#we were supposed to meet for coffee today but i’m not spending two hours on public transit

[serkonans]

man i was going to go see about renting from doubled his listing price after i expressed interest 😐

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Two

It feels cliched, like something from a film about a character working in some business firm, but I’m getting coffee for everyone at Mezzotint, the print studio where I am doing my internship. The studio, located above a little craft shop, opens right out onto a quaint street in Stoneybatter. 

It’s up and coming around here, that’s what they call it when they don’t want to admit to its gentrification, and the café that the staff frequents is one of those hipster places where there isn’t any room to sit. The exotic hanging plants in the window form a lush curtain where you can peer inside and see the moustachioed barista at work underneath a wall of interesting looking coffee paraphernalia.

This café is so close to the Luas line that you can hear the ding ding and swish of the tram as it passes every two minutes or so; Tallaght to The Point, Saggart to Connolly Station, over and over and over again. Each day is accompanied by the music of the city. It seeps in through the windows of this café and of our little studio across the road from it in a way that makes me feel like this little street in North Dublin, and I by extension, are woven inextricably into the fabric of the city. 

Everyone likes to pretend that September is the autumn, and even though the leaves are a little bit rusty and the waters a little choppier, the temperature is still warm enough to walk around without a coat in the afternoons. This is something seasonless that can’t decide what it wants to be yet, caught between one moment and the next. A warm breeze licks across my arms as I cross over to Mezzotint with five complicated coffee orders and a paper bag of pastries, pausing to let a woman with flowers in the basket of her bicycle pass me by. 

I pass through the shop first, where Petra is placing a new batch of little ceramic bud vases on a shelf, and I give her her mocha and pan au chocolat. “I like those.” I tell her, and she nods, subtly rearranging the vases and confesses that she’s already bought one. She spends way too much of the money she earns from working at this shop buying things in it, but I get it. I’d be buying stuff too if they were paying me. I head up the stairs to the studio above.

“Aw, thanks chicken.” Izzy, one of the printmakers, takes a coffee out of the holder marked with the letters FWAL on the top. I have learned it stands for Flat White, Almond Milk. It’s only half nine in the morning, and she’s already stuck into her work, the tips of her fingers blackened like burned matches from the ink. She doesn’t eat anything in the mornings because it makes her feel sick, but she’ll have her slightly softened croissant at eleven, I leave it in the bag for her. 

I bring a vanilla soy latte and a maple pecan twist to Gabriel who peers up at me impishly over his small, round glasses. “You look very nice today.” He says, and I grin. “So do you, but you look nice every day.” 

“Stop.” He grins coquettishly and lifts the lid off his coffee to sniff it. “This is soy, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah of course.”

“Good.” He takes a cautionary sip. “Because I’ll know all about it in about fifteen minutes if it isn’t. You’ll all know about it too.” 

“Yeah we definitely will too.” Izzy groans. “Remember that time they gave you whole cows milk?”

“I will never forget.” He says solemnly. 

“Yeah, no, me neither.”

I go over to the back of the studio to give Simon his flat white with oat milk. He told me he was vegan within an hour of meeting me, and I told him I’d actually never met a real vegan before, so it was an honour. It was supposed to be funny but if he thought it was he didn’t show it. 

He’s sitting hunched over an angled desk with a blade, digging grooves into a block of wood. This is what he does, this old style wood block printing, but it’s always got a contemporary twist to it. Like today, he’s working on a scene in a dark lake, ripples swell behind a woman with long black hair who’s naked, submerged up to her waist and looking up at the full moon. 

“Do you like it?” He asks me as I leave his coffee on the table next to him.

 “Yeah it’s really cool.”

He leans back to look, and quickly blows some of the loose curls of shaven wood out of the carved areas. “I like it as well, I think. It has something.”

“Who is it?”

“My girlfriend. It’s always my girlfriend. She’s my muse.”

He’s a very particular type of artsy-intense like that, like he doesn’t think it’s weird to call someone your ‘muse’ in a non-ironic way. “Oh right.” I say. I start turning away to head towards a pile of paper and tools in Gabriel’s corner of the studio, the same ones I’ve been trying to organise all week, but he calls me back over to him. “Yeah, Simon?”

“I’m thinking we should get a start on Christmas cards for the shop.”

“But it’s September.”

“Yes but it takes ages to get everything sorted and printed. It’s best we start designing in the autumn.”

“Oh, alright.”

“So…” He sits up and twirls the blade around his fingers in way that makes me nervous for his precious hands. He doesn’t look at me that much, including now. He’s still examining his work. “You’re doing a degree in illustration.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Could you draw up some designs? I don’t have time.”

I start to get flustered. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t really know what kinds of things to do.”

“Well, we don’t usually go for traditional type things in the shop, so if you can think of something that’s Christmassy but also, like, bright and modern and fun, that’d be unreal.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a portfolio?”

“Not really, just sketchbooks.”

“You’ve not done any kind of client work or anything?”

“Only a shop window.” I clear my throat awkwardly, unsure if I even want to admit to the work I did in Tullamore. “I did some window typography for a cafe during the summer.”

“You like typography?”

“Yeah it’s cool.” I shrug. “But I’d say I’m not very good at it.”

Simon’s mouth twitches up into as much of a smile as he appears to be capable of. “Why don’t you give something a lash for me, just see if you can come up with some fun Christmas card ideas that might incorporate interesting lettering. I don’t know.” He hunches back over his work so I know we’re finished discussing this. “Anything you want, Evie. I’m giving you full creative control, as long as it has a vibe.”

Full creative control is as terrifying as a blank page. I give him an almost inaudible “Okay” and go over to an empty table with a stack of paper to start trying to figure something out. What does that mean, anyway? A ‘vibe’? I sigh and start scribbling something down. 

I work through the morning and halfway into lunch, only realising it is when I surface from the haze of my creative flow to find everybody else gone. I fish around in my bag for the sad sandwich I prepared that morning and then get right back to work. I like it. I have no idea what I’m doing but I like doing it anyway. Sometimes when I get like this I wish that I didn’t have to eat or sleep or use the bathroom, like, I wish my body was a machine that could keep on drawing infinitely, churning out more and more work without the interruptions of my body’s needs.

Eventually the others come back and the sounds of press cranking and plate carving resume, and I am engrossed in what I’m doing. Gabriel passes behind me at some point and gives a little ‘hm’ of approval. “I like your lettering.” He says. “Thanks.” I say. 

I only realise the whole day has passed me by when a soft voice from the corner of the room pipes up. “Pub?” Simon cranes his neck like a submarine periscope and glances around the room at us. Without looking up, Gabriel says “Pub.”

“Pub.” Izzy agrees. 

I glance at the clock. It’s five already, and I feel like I’ve only just got into the swing of my card design. It kind of pains me that I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get stuck back into it again. I haven’t even started thinking about colours yet. 

Izzy tosses a balled up piece of scrap paper onto my table. “Hey, Evie.” She says. “Tools down. Pub?”

“Oh.” I say. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. We’re just heading across into Smithfield for a pint or two. Look outside. The sun is absolutely belting down.”

“We won’t get many more evenings like this.” Simon adds. “It’d be a waste not to come.”

“I suppose I’m not doing anything anyway.” I’m never doing anything, ever. “I can come for a while.”

“Unreal.” Izzy says, and I reluctantly relinquish my coloured pencils and then within five minutes the studio is closed down and the lights are off. 

“I’ll join you in a while.” Petra says as we lock up the studio door. “I’ll just do the cash register and then pop down.” We tell her that we’ll see her there and head out onto the street.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[julieloves074]

Anything For You (Jeremiah Fisher x Y/n)

Summary: After an eventful evening with supposed 'friends' Y/n, Belly and Taylor got left in a compromsing position. Thankfully Jeremiah is there to save the night and gets a realisation that changes everything.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing

Words: 6.6k

(Not my GIF :) )

I walked down into the kitchen to meet everyone’s prying eyes and an overexcited Belly, literally jumping up and down eating a good muffin. I run over to her knocking us both backwards.

“Happy birthday Bellyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Now we can be old together!” I exclaimed taking a bite of her muffin- she pulls it away with a huge grin, throwing the last bite into her mouth and hugging me back.

“Thank you Y/n! Ah I’m so glad I get to spend my birthday with you every year,” she nuzzled closer to me. I smiled unconsciously. Belly, Jeremiah and I are all the same age but she always acted younger, this year she really had huge glow up, not to be jealous but it’s making me slightly insecure…

Only now do I look around at everyone else in the kitchen, Jere is at the stove looking towards us with his ocean blue eyes and an indescribably ecstatic, beautiful smile, I had look away.

“Morning?” I say though it comes out more as a question, Susannah sits at the table with her iconic sunglasses tangled in her hair and another new magazine and coffee. Susannah and my mom are best friends, they met in Boston when Susannah first moved there, of course they’re not as close as her and Laurel but the three of them are inseparable when together.

“Your mom called earlier,” she said in that soft voice of hers, my mom came here with us every year but she recently managed to snag her dream position in a new publishing firm and couldn’t get the time off because what would that show about her commitment?

“Ah and I got up earlier to speak with her myself,” I say taking a deep breath, she was working crazy hours now, fixing up the firm she was busy from early morning to late nights I hadn’t had the chance to speak to her since we arrived.

“Oh Y/n, I’m sorry she had to run out extra early this morning, the painters are coming into the office but she’s had a last minute change of heart about the colours and they weren’t answering their phones,” she conveyed, I just put on a smile and nodded.

“So what are the plans for today then, apart from dinner and the party” I asked to change the topic, turning away from Suze and her all-knowing eyes of emotion reading.

“How could you forget?” Jere turned around to face me, taking the pan with eggs off the stove, “Taylor arrives today!” he exclaimed in fake mockery.

“Yes I completely forgot sorry!” I gave a guilty smile walking closer to him, covering up the fact that I was doing it by leaning on the counter, “You must be excited then Jeremy,” I annunciate his name, attempting to give my best ‘seducing’ Taylor voice. Everyone in the kitchen laughed including Belly. Jeremiah gave a sarcastic ‘haha’ before splitting the scrambled eggs between two plates.

“No… surely she still doesn’t call you that,” Suze laughed tipping her head backwards, the morning sunrise behind her making her out to be a goddess, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Trust me she does,” I start facing her then look at Jeremiah pointedly, “And this idiot loves her flirting,” I raise my brows and shake my head, a small pinching in my stomach. He pushes one of the plates my way, then grabs me by the belt loop in my shorts and pulls me towards him. Both arms around my neck, hugging me.

His head lands on my shoulder and I turn a little, his proximity and the heat of his breath on my ear making my heart faster by a few beats, “Ow come on Y/n you know my heart belongs to you and only you,” he announces, if only his proclamations were true. After years of this kind of flirting with my best friend I should be used to it, but my heart still feels every single one of these little comments.

“Yeah ok Jeremiah, eat up we have a crazy birthday party member to pick up,” I say but don’t move, he doesn’t either, I pick up some eggs on my fork and go to put them in my mouth before Jere moves forwards fast and eats the egg in front of my eyes. I open my mouth in shock and elbow him gently.

“Will you two get a room already?” A grumpy voice comments, Conrad walks into the kitchen with another one of his cranky expressions.

“Conrad watch what you’re saying,” Susannah announces and gives him an unimpressed look, Laurel looks like she wants to say something but decides to just watch the situation play out.

“Yeah sorry,” he said absentmindedly pouring himself a cup of coffee, I move from Jeremiah’s hold, part due to his brother’s comment and part to give Con an annoyed look that clearly says ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’. Conrad just sighs and turns around taking a sip of coffee. Jeremiah takes a step forward and lays his head on my shoulder.

“Happy birthday Belly,” Conard says to towards the floor, “I’m going out-” he starts, Laurel opens her mouth to speak “I’m helping out Cleveland,” he finishes.

“No you’re not, not until we open presents and Belly blows out her candles,” Susannah’s voice is hard, rightfully so I thought, this was a tradition, one I thought we all enjoyed.

“I’m so glad you’re sharing your knowledge Connie but your mom’s right, lets have some family time,” she said with a smile and a nod, Con sighed and nodded still looking at the floor. He always listened to Laur, the way they speak with each other is open and honest- no bullshit, I admire that.

And so that’s what we do, Belly blows out the candles on her small chocolate cake, I take a video of us all singing to send to my mom and then we make our way into the front room, Jere lays his hand on my lower back guiding me.

We’re the last to get in I quickly run to take the last seat on the sofa and stick my tongue out to him while he shakes his head at me. Without saying anything he comes and kicks my legs apart to sit on the floor between them. No one looks at us- this kind of this is normal. I looked at Belly ready to watch her open the first gift when Jeremiah grabs a hold of my hand, laying it onto his fluffy hair. I sigh and he look up to me with an expectant grin. I run my fingers through his hair throughout the whole ordeal, his hair is soft and the way he leans his head against my right leg when I run my fingers near the back of his head my makes my heart practically explode.

I think I might be selfish to do it, I mean this means nothing to him but a lot to me, still I think he’s happy enough with what he gets out of it.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

The atmosphere was still stuffy at the dinner, Taylor was doing her best to put every at ease but Conrad’s ‘I forgot to get Belly a present’ was not going down well, neither was his attitude. Belly was a bit upset too, something happened to the whaling boat Cam works on and he wouldn’t make dinner- he did promise to meet us at the party though. I was glad when the whole thing was over and we were getting ready to leave for Nicole’s party.

“Do you think me and Jeremy might finally hook up tonight?” Taylor laughed applying some mascara, I really had to try hard to not roll my eyes, instead I dug my teeth into my bottom lip. I like Taylor I really do, she’s confident and funny but sometimes I wonder how her and Belly even became friends… she could be a lot sometimes, but she is a good friend.

“His name is Jeremiah,” the words escape past my lips before I can stop them, Taylor doesn’t even turn at my comment, as if she didn’t hear it, but somehow I knew she was just ignoring it.

“Tay you might want to be careful, don’t go after Y/n’s man,” Belly laughs putting some of her makeup back into the bag on the dresser.

“Wait what-“ this got Taylor’s attention just fine, she turned sharply, one hand on her waist the other holding the mascara wand, “You didn’t tell you guys were together!!” she explained, but I couldn’t quite sense what her tone of voice was. If we were together- which we are not- I would be less than impressed with her lack of apologies for the merciless flirting.

I shook my head frantically, “We’re just best friends, stop trying to cause shit Belly,” I laughed throwing a pillow at her, she playfully rolls her eyes at me before throwing the pillow back. I knew about Belly’s crush on Conrad for years, she opened up to me about not long after it started, but I didn’t confess my feelings for the blonde until last year, I knew she knew, but I didn’t actually say the words out loud until last year when we were left home alone to eat ice cream and watch the titanic.

“So you like don’t mind if I make a move on him- or like if things get steamy?” she asked, one side of her mouth up in a sly smirk. At that specific moment I want to whack her with the pillow, she’s already been full flirt mode since the minute she got off that bus.

“Yeah whatever,” I said getting up off the bed, “But we should probably get going,” I say looking my phone, placing Susannah’s flower crown back on my head. I had managed to convince Belly that they make us look pretty and stand out, she didn’t believe my until Taylor confirmed.

“We look so hot!” Tay announced looking at the three of us in Belly’s mirror. I took a deep breath. This was going to be one hell of a night.

I was right of course, the trouble started as soon as we stepped out the door.

“We didn’t take this into consideration…” Conrad said looking at their red jeep as the girls and I approached. Jeremiah immediately reached for the strap of my small bag to pull me towards closer, balancing an elbow on my shoulder to lean on me.

“We won’t all fit into the car,” Steven said and I genuinely let out a laughter, reaching a hand to my forehead.

“We’re a bunch of dickheads how did we not think of this before?” I ask looking around at our little group.

“I did- Taylor and I were gonna be taken by Cam but now he’s meeting us there…” Belly explained, I whispered an ‘Ah’.

“It’s fine I’ll sit on Jere’s lap or something,” Taylor suggested with a full on smirk and I swear I heard Con and Steven laugh under their noses. Jeremiah unfolded his arm around my neck.

“All good I’m sure Y/n won’t mind, we usually have to end up this way when we party in Boston anyway, and I know you girl can’t ruin each other’s makeup and whatever, so what do you say best friend?” He looks towards me with a smile. I was fine with Taylor sitting on my lap as long as she was nowhere near Jeremiah’s but I know if I declined she would end up sitting on his and I couldn’t look at that. At the party at least I wouldn’t have to watch so I replied “Yeah no worries”.

It was true we did this all the time in Boston, it was much easier to find parking for one car rather than two, and we were always just missing the one seat. Taylor didn’t say anymore and avoided eye contact with me after this- I felt slightly bad as everyone piled into the car. Jeremiah and I were last, he sat down first in the back seat on the right and lifted his hands to guide me sitting down, his hands on my hips, I couldn’t meet his eyes, thankful for the darkness, so that the car full of people wouldn’t have to witness my beetroot red blush. I know we did this all the time but everything felt so much more intimate, personal in Cousins, at the Beach house.

When I was sat down Jere moved his hands onto my lap and laid his head on my shoulder, Belly and Taylor broke into a conversation next to us and Con and Steven were having their own in the front. Easily Jere and I fell into conversation too, his voice tickling my ear and me turning my head to reply to him. He was so close I could kiss him… I wanted to kiss him but I couldn’t. He didn’t want that, Taylor sure as hell didn’t want that and I couldn’t ruin our friendship- mine and Jeremiah’s that is.

The drive felt painfully longer than it should have, and when we arrived Taylor grabbed Belly by the hand and run off with her. Jere and I got out and followed Con and Steven into the house. Jere kept swaying to the side bumping into me on the path to the door, I pushed him back shaking my head and right before the we step in he turned to me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his face all of the sudden serious, his eyes mixture of worry and care.

“Huh? No- nothing’s wrong,” I said, attempting my best to sound reassured, in reality it was just a shitshow mixture of things all mixing in my head.

“Hey- I know my best friend Y/n Y/l/l more than I know myself,” he took hold of my hand, moving us out of the way of the door, “Talk to me,” eyes more pleading now, “If this is about Taylor-”

“Why would it be about her?” I interrupt fast, he’s a bit taken aback but doesn’t let go of my hand. He must know I’m jealous of her in some kind of stupid way.

“Because whenever she’s here she practically keeps Belly to herself, which is like totally not cool for you, because it’s understandable that you want to celebrate one of your closets friend’s birthday with her,” he explains still kind of confused by the relieved expression on my face- God I’m glad that boys are so stupid sometimes.

“Uh yeah, yeah, you know how she is though, it’s only a few days, I’ll be fine,” I assured running my other hand on his upper arm, giving a reassuring squeeze and a smile as I said the white lie.

“Hey look at it this way, we can sneak away just the two of us tomorrow,” he squeezed my other hand now, I nodded.

“Ok, now lets get partying!” he exclaimed starting to do some party moves, laying an arm around my shoulders and leading me into the loud house.

The party is like any other teenage Cousins party during the summer, except after watching Taylor flirt the shit out of Jere, Belly cuddle up with Cam and Steven sneaking away with Shayla I decided I needed more to drink… three turned to four really fast, then five, six, seven. Before I knew it I was drunk and balling my eyes out in a random kid’s bedroom on the third floor, away from prying eyes.

“Y/n?” A voice became clearer as it called my name repeatedly, I couldn’t answer though, it was as if I was in some bubble trans wiping tears from under my eyes every few minutes.

“Ow my God Y/n” it was Jeremiah, the second he saw me he rushed my way closing the door behind him, “What happened- are you okay?” he asked sitting down next to me, running his hands on both my arms, the touch making my next sob harsher. I covered my face with my hand.

“Come on it’ll be okay, I’m here,” he said and pulling me into a hug, tracing patterns on my back, letting me cry it out. As my breathing pattern slowly stated returning to normal, and the tears becoming further and farther in between he pulled away, not too much, if I wanted to reach for him again I easily could.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered shaking my head side to side looking at the floor, attempting another deep breath.

“No” he placed two fingers under my chin and lifted my face up to face him, “You don’t need to be sorry for expressing your emotions, now talk to me,”

I took a deep breath through my nose and let it come out through my mouth before I went to speak, “I guess, I miss my mom, this is the longest we’ve gone without talking, and I’m so happy and proud of her for this opportunity but she’s dreamed of this deb ball thing for years so I agreed to do it, now all I have is the money she’s invested into it- she’s not even here for it. She’s not here to help me pick out a dress, but I guess a part of me is glad she isn’t here cause- cause I don’t have an escort and the dance lessons begin tomorrow and I have literally no one to ask and-” I let my head fall backwards on the bed behind me,  brushing the tears from under my eyes, “And now Taylor’s here and I really don’t think she likes me and I just-”

“Y/n,” he whispered pulling me into another hug, running his hands through my hair as if he was strumming a delicate tune on a guitar, “I can’t even imagine how hard it must be not be in contact with you mom in these last few days apart from the few texts, especially since you two are so close, but hopefully she’ll be here for the deb ball,” he tried to sound confident, and my mom did promise she wouldn’t miss it but at this rate- when she doesn’t even have time to call- I was keeping my expectations low, “And don’t worry you’ve already got an escort,” he says into my shoulder, I force myself to not shiver at the air that rushes across my bare shoulder.

“Who?” my brows furrow as I pull away to meet his eyes.

“Me silly,” he says putting a smile back on, it’s contagious and he knows it, a smile works its way up to my face following suit.

“But you’ve sworn off of balls,” I tried to argue his comment.

“Yeah for everyone else, you’re Y/n, I’d do anything for you, all you had to do was ask,” he confirmed and I swallow, he doesn’t mean it in that way- surely? I wait a millisecond, thinking maybe he’ll lean in and kiss me, but the magic bursts after I don’t say or do anything- “You’re my best friend, unless you want to go with someone else?” he asks shifting his head to the side a little.

I shake my head and give him another small smile, I genuinely didn’t have anyone else to ask, even though I didn’t want Jere to do it out of pity- I knew he didn’t ever want to do one of these, I don’t hang out with any other boys, it’s always me and Jere and obviously Steven and Con but they have their own things going.

“You should get back to the party though, I’m sure Taylor’s looking for you,”

“She can keep looking I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re feeling any better,”

“I am, really Jere, I think I just needed to get those things off my chest,” I nodded alongside my words to sound more convincing, even though the images of him and Taylor dancing and making out crop up in my mind.

“Come on then,” he says standing up and reaching his hand out to me.

“No- I don’t think” I start

“Then you’re not better,” he says and goes to sit back down

“Jere I’ve had a few too many drinks tonight, I’m just gonna go sit in the car till you guys are done, I need a nap,” I say standing up all too fast, trying my hardest to not sway side to side.

“Ok I’ll come sit with you,” he proposes, “I’m not drinking tonight anyway” he reminded me, somehow between the walk down the two lots of stairs and the maze of people I managed to convince him he would be bored out of his mind because I would be sleeping so he gave in and stayed at the party.

The next thing I knew was when four people got into the car, Con and Taylor in the back, Steven and Jere in the front.

“Where’s Belly?” I asked still half asleep.

“Cam took her home like an hour ago, I’ll explain in a bit,” Jere’s voice said calmy from the front, even in this state I could sense the tension in the car. But it wasn’t until the next morning that I found out what else happened at the party. I didn’t question Jere further about whether he ended up making out with anyone, I couldn’t bear it and he didn’t mention anyone either.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

I wasn’t sure about this, Nicole and the other girls were always more my friends than Belly’s (Due to mom taking me to the country club almost every day- whereas Susannah and Laurel didn’t go very often. My mom is one of the owners so she had to upkeep her reputation. It does make me wonder why we never just bought our own beach house but when she explained that it wasn’t so much about having a house but the people inside- it all made perfect sense plus she did put money into Suze’s house helping out with the upkeep throughout the year). And don’t get me wrong I’m not jealous of their friendship I’m just worried, after the charity tournament earlier Nicole didn’t look too impressed with Bells.

Belly won and rightfully so, she’s worked for this specific event for weeks, but she had to switch partners from Taylor to Cameron mere minutes into the game due to a fake injury which we had planned on the way there. What we didn’t plan is Belly getting so in her own head that she ended up switching Cam for Conrad which Nicole didn’t look too impressed about, especially following after Belly’s messy margarita secret spill at the 4th July Party.

When I told Jeremiah about the invite he was far from helpful, he pulled me into a sweaty hug (we had just finished the tournament and got second- no thanks to him!) and said “That’s fine, let Belly and Taylor go while we go out to the pier and celebrate!” he smiled, I just pushed his head away from me.

“I’m not sure about this,” Taylor voices my worries now in the present, I don’t say anything just follow the two girls down the dock, Nicole’s father’s boat appearing towards the end. I’d slept on the boat before, last year Nicole held a late birthday (which is still in the school year) party and my mom suggested I need to go, it was fun to be fair but it wasn’t as fun as I would of had with our family.

“It’ll be fine, you’ll see they’re nice, you said it yourself the other day,” Belly argued

“No I said I’d give them another chance,” Taylor corrected and I pulled out my phone to avoid anymore of this interaction. Checking if mom may have replied to my text about the fundraiser, she rarely misses Suze’s events like these. Still- nothing from her instead another text awaits my attention:

‘Missing you already- not too late to turn back around, your favourite ice cream awaits on the pier,’ the text said, I smiled to myself before replying  ‘Movie later?’ the reply was instant ‘Duhhhh- She’s The Man?’ my smile expands even more, one of my favourites, ‘Deal, see you in a bit’ I replied slipping my phone back into my pocket.

 “Heyyyyyyy!” we got greeted by everyone on the boat, walking on we got passed some fruity alcohol mixed drinks and sat in our bikini’s talking and panting each other’s nails- gossiping about our real lives outside of the summer.

“Omg I have an idea!” Gigi suggests when the sky fades from a pastel to a midnight, navy blue, Nicole turns to her with a smile, I make eye contact with her wearily.

“Are we thinking the same thing…” Nicole said leaning forwards.

“Never have I ever!” they shout at the same time, everyone squeals I just smile, in no teen ‘coming of age’ movie does this end well.

“But we drink every time we’ve done something too,” Nicole adds.

“Omg perfect” Shayla says, “I’ll start- never have I ever hooked up with someone in a bathroom” a few girls take sips including me- it was a rough night at a party last year after I saw Jere escape to a bedroom with some girl he’d just met.

A few rounds in everyone had at least one finger down apart from Belly so Taylor helped her out- “Never have I ever had a steamy make out in the pool with Cam Cameron,” she giggled as all the girl’s eyes immediately swished to Belly who blushed and took a sip of her drink, all the girls burst out into questions. This did turn out to be quite fun.

“Ok but… never have I ever made out with Jeremiah Fisher at the beach alone though,” she said and my mouth opens in shock ever so slightly- she did not just bring that up.

“I have in my dreams does that count?” Gigi announces lifting her drink, Nicole pushes her hand back down and gives her a warm smile, “No that doesn’t count, but it’s very specific- who has then?” she shifts her eyes back to Belly.

“Reveal yourself,” Gigi announced meeting each girl’s eyes, “Y/n it was you!” she read the guilt on my face. I didn’t answer simply sipping my drink and putting my hand out as to say that I will not be answering questions.

“You can’t just not- give me some details I need to live vicariously through you” Gigi whined.

“Is there something going on between you?” One of the girls asked suggestively lifting her brows up and down.

“And if you don’t explain we’ll just have to assume,” Gigi continued.

I sighed, “I see we chose blackmail today- it was nothing, we were both hella drunk after a party, I went down to the beach just to look at the stars or whatever poet shit I thought I was doing, Jere clearly had the same idea and it just kind of happened- it was stupid,” I said, suddenly the atmosphere slightly died down.

“Skinny dipping?” Nicole asked, most girls decided to go home it was quite late, still the next minute that’s what we were doing, Nicole, Gigi, Belly, Taylor and I down in the water splashing each other and joking around, swimming in tears of laughter.

“Right I need the toilet,” Gigi said and started swimming over to the small dock.

“Ok I’ll go with you, make sure you don’t get kidnapped or anything,” Nicole added.

“We’ll be back in a second ladies!” Gigi called, we waved them off and continued just swimming around. The moon was getting quite high up now and the coldness started to kick in after a short while.

“Where are they?” Taylor asked with an annoyed voice.

“I don’t think that matters- what time is it? We told Susannah we’d be back for eleven,” I said, Belly’s face slowly fell, she’d forgotten.  We swam back over to the deck.

“Where are our clothes?” Taylor asks in a panic; I feel around the dock but can’t find them.

“It’s ten to eleven- what? They must be here somewhere,” Belly said nonchalantly, focused on her phone.

“Belly how are you not freaking out right now our clothes are gone,” I prod her arm, looking over her shoulder to see what on her phone has her so mesmerised.

“These bitches- I knew not to trust them!” Taylor grunts still looking for our clothes. My worst prediction has come to life, I knew there was no way for this night to end well in any capacity. Reading the text on Belly’s phone gave me the exact reason for the night’s downfall.

“For fucks sake Conrad- your timing is shit as usual!” I shout upwards to the sky, hoping the universe may somehow pass on my message.

“What?” Taylor jerks and swims over, shaking her head, she’s annoyed too.

“We need to get out of here,” Belly says.

“We have no way to get out, a: from the water cause we’ll be walking around naked, b: Jere dropped us here and Nicole’s mom was meant to take us back,” I remind the two girls. After a few minutes of deliberating we spot some kind of black mat and wrap ourselves with it before starting down the road.

“We’re not going to get back to the house until morning at this rate,” Belly announces a few minutes into the walk. She’s right it’s much harder to walk as a three wrapped up in some mat like a burrito

“Or we’re going to get murdered!” Taylor argues.

“That’s it I’m calling Jeremiah,” I say, they didn’t agree with me the first time I said it but this time I wasn’t going to listen to their opposes.

“Hello?” I hear the voice on the other side of the call say, there’s loud music and loads of people talking and singing. They were still at the party- that was a good sign, we weren’t going to get shit that we got home so late.

“Jere,” just saying his name in this situation was tying a knot in my throat, “I- we need you,” I whispered and that’s all it took I could hear him shuffling, he was asking a million questions but I just told him where we were and to come quick. While we waited we kept moving forwards.

A huge weight was lifted off my shoulder when I saw the lights of the car, then another came which made me a little confused but I quickly realised it was Conrad. Both the brothers rushed out their respective cars towards Con was holding a bag which he pushed in our direction.

“These are yours,” he said looking only into Belly’s eyes. There was a silence, Jere then meeting my eyes frantically.

“Right we’ll hold this while you guys get dressed,” Jere suggests and they turn around backwards to us holding the black mat while we quickly get changed facing the trees. The whole ordeal is awkward and I’m cold and shivering, teeth clattering against each other.

 “Here,” Jere says taking off his hoodie one handed and passing it to me.

“Thank you,” I mutter coming from behind the temporary barricade, Belly and Taylor are done quickly too, they boys place the mat on the side of the road. Hope the person who owns this doesn’t get too annoyed- or if it belonged to Nicole I hope she got into trouble for losing it.

“Bells, Taylor are you aright to go with Con, Y/n and I have one more stop,” he faced the girls, I didn’t say anything though I knew the last thing Belly wanted to do right now was get into Conrad’s car. The brothers must have argued again because they hadn’t exchanged a single word since they’d arrived.

“Yeah that’s fine,” Taylor announced, her eyes meeting mine before grabbing onto Belly’s hand and pulling her to Conrad’s car. We’re still stood there as they pull away. The second the lights from Con’s car disappear Jere grabs me into a tight hug.

“Are you okay now? What happened?” He asked pulling me even closer.

“I don’t really want to talk about, I think they thought it was a funny prank,” I shook my head so he ran one hand down my hair, whispering “ok” into my ear. After a moment he lands his hand on my lower back as he leads me to the passenger seat. And we hit the road, Jere jokes whenever a moment of silence comes by.

“So what’s our extra stop?” I ask, he turns to me with a grin.

“I did promise you ice cream,” he says and a smile takes over my lips too. We arrived at Moo’s the 24hour desert place and ordered two ice creams with toppings, eating them in one of the booths. Usually we sit opposite each other because it’s easier to talk but today Jere pulls me to sit next to him. He pushes his back against the wall facing me, his one leg against mine.

After our stop when we get home all the lights are already off.

“Movie?” he asks hopefully after I take off my shoes, as if automatically a yawn escapes my lips and I let out a caring sigh.

“I think I’d fall asleep five minutes into it,” I reply starting to head towards the kitchen. He catches me by the waist near the fridge, turning me around to face him, pulling me into his chest, I rest my chin on him to meet his eyes.

“I can’t let you go right now, so I guess you’ll just have to fall asleep five minutes into the movie,” he shrugs, how could I ever say no to him to his words, he’s usually touchy but since he picked me up he’s been hesitant to let his body leave mine.

“Jeremiah, what are you talking about?” I ask laughing, “I feel better now, I was just a bit shaken up,” I say.

“Well you might be better but I’m not, I was scared, I can’t let you leave my sight in case anything else happens,” he explains, I’m about to ask what could happen to me inside the beach house with so many people asleep in rooms next to each other upstairs but he’s pulling me onto the couch and I decide to be selfish. No- I wasn’t being selfish my best friend had the right to be worried about me and want to spend time together- that was my excuse for letting my feelings getting the better of me.

So we settled under a blanket and Jere put on ‘She’s the Man’ and like predicted Val wasn’t even pretending to be a boy yet and I was already floating off into dreamland. The last thing I felt was Jere pulling my body closer to his.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

When I woke up Jeremiah wasn’t there and I wrapped my arms around myself to replace the warmth of his body, there were voices in the kitchen. I huffed and got up from the couch, my headache was not as bad as expected- the stolen clothes scenario sobered me up real quick last night. I walked in and everyone was already dressed, bathing suits, sundresses and shorts and tees

“Good morning,” I say in a groggy morning voice, “Why is everyone already dressed and ready?” I ask rubbing my eyes which are still half closed.

“We’ve got the Country Club day today,” Susannah enlightened me, I squished my facial features- I had forgotten.

“We’re leaving in an hour so it might be time to start getting ready,” Taylor said but I couldn’t quite figure out the emotion behind her words.

“Or you could just stay with me?” Laurel spoke up cheerfully

“You know Vanessa wouldn’t agree,” Suze said giving me a comforting smile, she’s right mom wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t go, I needed to be her representative and give the little small speech she wrote out for me in her name.

“Where’s Jere?” I asked automatically, this was our routine.

“He went out for a surf, didn’t even tell me,” Con announced pouring some more coffee into his mug.

“Right, I’m going to go get ready then,” I say and walk out as awkwardly as I walked in.

I put on my chai green bikini and a white dress over the top, throwing my hair into a fishtail braid, the first thing I was going to do at the country club was go for a swim.

Upon arrival I did exactly what I planned, jumped into the pool and swam a few laps, got a cold drink and started heading towards the changing rooms to get back into my dress for my speech but I’m stopped by voices in a somewhat hushed argument round the corner.

“You’re insane!” Jeremiah’s voice came out loud and clear, I could imagine him running a hand through his hair.

“It was joke chill Jeremiah” Nicole barked back

“How am I supposed to chill Nicole, that was so shitty of you,”

 “What’s got you all worked up?”

“What is wrong with you? Did you actually think about what you were doing?”

“It was harmless- they’re fine” Nicole’s voice came out followed by an annoyed sigh.

“If anything that happened to them- to her, to Y/n, god forbid there was some creep walking around, or some random driver picked her up-them up yesterday I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself. If something had happened I would never forgive you, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself that I wasn’t there to protect her from you and your pettiness, take it out on Conrad, leave Y/n out of it,” he commanded.

“This isn’t just about the prank is it?- It’s about Y/n as well?” she accuses, for a moment Jere doesn’t reply.

“I love her Nicole, I think she’s the love of my life, no- I know she is and I hate that I wasn’t there to protect her, you should have seen her, you’re no friend Nicole, no friend would ever do anything to put their friend in a state like the girls were last night,”

“Jere-”

“And you can forget about Conrad, he was also cleaning up the mess you created”

“Let’s not make a big deal”

“Fuck you Nicole,”

At this I walked around the corner, tears creating a glistening layer over my eyes. Nicole was staring right at me, Jeremiah turned around and I ran in to his arms, his grip was tight and comforting. I force my eyes shut fighting the tears.

“Thank you for saving me,” I whispered into his body. After a few seconds there’s a sound of feet walking away, Nicole had left, Conrad will never be able to look at her the same, not after she put us in danger like that- Belly like that. My body feels lighter when he holds me, like he lifts all the troubles off my shoulders, “Did you mean what you said to her?” I asked weakly, still holding onto him for dear life.

“I would do anything for you. I knew that I loved you for years but it hadn't hit me how easily I could have lost you without you ever knowing, without having been able to tell you that every day," he said.

"Jere-"

"Y/n I know we’re best friends, but I think we both know there’s more than that, and if you’re not ready to take it to the next stage that’s fine I will wait for you, because- because I love you so much and there’s no one else I could imagine myself with,” his hold tightens and my heart swells at every word.

I lean slightly away from his body, hands snaking onto his face, looking into his beautiful ocean eyes, leaning forwards I kiss him and it’s as though everything in the world seems to find its place, its balance, its centre.

Masterlist

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”  Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

[christowhore]

Redeeming Myself

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader

summary: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, chris makes it his mission to prove to you how much you mean to him.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is 29, chris is 40), angst, reminiscing on past actions, fluff, talks with therapist, chris makes up for bad behavior, slight alcohol consumption, smut, happy endings, rpf !!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!!

notes: the final installment of Pining for Professor. it was only supposed to be a one shot, but i got inspired and expanded it. it took a while cause writers block, but it’s here. for anyone who has read the series, thank you and hope you enjoy ! 💓🥰

i do not allow the reposting, rewriting or translating of my fics. these are works of my own and i do not give permission for any of the acts stated above.

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SERIES MASTERLIST • MAIN MASTERLIST

For a month and a half following that afternoon, Chris began to go above and beyond to mend his mistakes in an effort to regain your trust.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been forgiven for the hurtful words he hurled at you, the voice he raised, and his cold demeanor through it all. But you forgave him nonetheless, which he was eternally grateful for.

Chris suspected that his venom-laced words still took a toll on your overall being. He sensed it in the way your usual humming was kept to a minimum, as did your soft caresses to his body. The fun facts that you would randomly blurt out had basically become nonexistent.

You hadn’t tried initiating sex with Chris due to still being affected by his actions, which was understandable to the brunette.

He could tell you were being cautious around him, which broke his heart more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you never really talked in depth about what happened, deciding to push it under the rug and move past it. But ignoring the elephant in the room could only last for so long.

That morning was no different. He had spent the night at your place and decided to wake up and make you breakfast in an effort to mend the faltering relationship.

You woke up to an empty bed, something that you were used to since Chris had always been an early riser. Getting your morning routine out the way, you made your descent downstairs with the smell of pesto guiding you down the steps.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw the sight of your topless boyfriend, donning only a pair of boxers and an apron. You watched as he studiously focused on the skillet in front of him. His intense focus and the sounds of eggs frying in the pan made him oblivious to your arrival.

It wasn’t until you made your way towards the fridge next to him, that he registered your presence. “Morning princess, you sleep well.”

“Yeah, I slept fine,” your voice still a bit gravely from your slumber. You poured yourself a glass of orange juice, ignoring the intense gaze from Chris in your peripheral vision.

He was so used to having you touch him in the mornings. Not so much in a sexual way, but more intimately. The way your lips would ghost against his shoulder blade, your palms would hold his sides and pull him against you so that way you could bask in his warmth. Your arms would wrap around his front until your fingers absentmindedly toyed with his lower abdomen, playing with the wisps of hair on his happy trail.

He missed when you would move your lips until they met the space behind his ears, giving light open mouth kisses. The sound of you whispering ‘Morning daddy’ would leave him awestruck. Even though the words were a regular occurrence for him to hear, it was the way you would say it in your morning voice that made it ten times more special.

Though those actions might seem minuscule to others, they meant the world to him and it was killing him that he hadn’t been able to experience such tender moments with you in a while.

“I’m making breakfast- pesto eggs and some bacon for you. It’ll be done in a minute.”

You nodded along before heading to the table, phone in hand while catching up on your morning news.

It didn’t take long before a steaming plate was placed in front of you, the scent of garlic and basil already making you salivate.

Chris sat besides you and watched as you dug a fork into your meal, a smile reaching his face as he heard your content moans.

The two of you ate in silence, only the sound of soft chewing and utensils hitting your respective plates could be heard.

Every so often, you would feel Chris peek at you, hoping for you to start up a conversation with him like you always did. It’s not like you didn’t want to, it was just that you were still hurting due to his words. You know from a psychological standpoint that there was something going on inside of him that caused him to lash out, which you understood. But it didn’t aid in diminishing your apprehensiveness towards opening up to him, afraid that another fight would break out and hurtful words would again be hurled.

He could sense the internal struggle battling within you so he spoke up, breaking you out from your subconscious.

“I know I’ve been saying this repeatedly over the past few weeks, but I want you to know how sorry I am,” Chris sympathetically stated, “You didn’t deserve what I put you through, the things I said. I just hope that we're able to someday go back to how we were.”

You sat there staring at the man in front of you. Was there a way that the two of you can revert to what once was? Could you actually forgive him?

Not knowing how to properly respond, you simply nodded. A tight lipped smile was evidence that Chris had a lot of making up to do.

Finishing up breakfast, you excused yourself to your office to go and work on your dissertation, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he needed to do something big to make up for his actions. He also knew that he needed to figure out why he lashed out on you.

Taking out his phone, he clicked on a saved contact and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear.

“Morning, I’d like to make an appointment as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Chris sat on the plush maroon couch, his eyes getting reacquainted with the familiar setting. The office had a few knick knacks littered around the space. A potted plant here and there. Motivational, yet cheesy posters on the wall. An assortment of magazines on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been here in a while, his usual talks were about his anxiety and dealing with fame. But for this appointment it was about you- specifically how he treated you.

The new topic was foreign to him, resulting in the brunette not knowing how to address it. So he silently sat there as his therapist, Dr. Reynolds, held her pen in her hand and studied his behavior.

“So,” she cautiously started, “What brings you in today?”

Chris sat there twiddling his fingers at her question. There could’ve been a few reasons that brought him in, but the main one was why he said the things he hurled at you.

He proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes recapping the events that had transpired, making sure to not spare any detail. After his spiel, Dr. Reynolds skimmed through her notes that she jotted down during his explanation.

Looking up from her notebook, she locked eyes with the brunette. “Do you think that some of your actions correlate with self-sabotaging behaviors? How, when you opened yourself up to her so suddenly it made you feel scared? Scared that you might need to face those fears that are plaguing you.”

Chris sat there incredulously, “Well- I mean no. I don’t think so.”

The pair talked for over an hour, going over the usual allotted time as they broke down why Chris had acted a certain way.

He realized the anger he felt was a coping mechanism to avoid feeling what he truly felt: fear. Mainly his fear of commitment. Part of him was scared that any future marriage would end up like his parents, in divorce. He feared that you would stop loving him. He feared that he would stop loving you.

And that fear was ultimately pushing you away from him. Which uncovered the biggest fear of all, losing you.

Dr. Reynolds eventually received a knock on her door, indicating a waiting patient, causing their therapy session to be cut and saved for another day.

“Thanks doc, I think I know what I need to do now.”

After some much needed self-reflection made in the meeting with his therapist, Chris knew what he had to do. Leaving the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed his publicist, Megyn.

A few rings later, he went into detail to the blonde about his plan. Not caring about what the press might say, or how his fans might react, he needed to get it done.

She wasn’t too keen on dealing with the impending press that would come from it, but she was happy that he was able to find someone that he truly loved.

He went back to your place that evening with a refreshed mind. The rest of the day went by as usual, you both did your own respective things, the tension still heavy in the air.

As you both started on your own night routine, his main focus was on you. He didn’t even know he stopped brushing and was staring until you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Earth to Chris, everything alright?” your tone was light and airy, hinted with a bit of joy.

Chris looked at the slight smile on your face and was reminded all over again as to why he fell for you. That smile was something that was so ingrained in his mind that not even old age could make him forget it. It warmed his entire being whenever he was sad and it made him realize he could never take it off your face for the rest of his days.

“Yeah princess,” he whispered, still lost in you, “I’m alright.”

You nodded along to him, though your eyes squinted a bit due to being curious of his change in demeanor. Before he was overly cautious around you, now it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Before you could set your toothbrush down and set out for bed, he stopped you with a hand on your elbow, pulling you into him. Not caring that there were still dribbles of toothpaste in his mouth, he leant down and attached his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, he was desperate to feel your softness against him though wasn’t trying to rush the act in any way. Moving his hand up, he held onto your cheek in an effort to pull you even closer than you already are.

The smell of your lavender night cream instantly calmed him, making him feel safe in your embrace and absentmindedly smiling into the kiss.

Chris finally pulled away, only slightly, to look down on you with a dopey grin. “God I’m in love with you.”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile reached your face to match the man across from you.

“I love you too love bug,” you sighed against his lips, “You probably should’ve rinsed your mouth though, I can taste your toothpaste.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, just got caught up in the moment.”

Chris kept you secured in his arms as he continued to stare down at you. There was something different about him, specifically the way his gaze was directed at you. Though you were not complaining.

“How about we bring back date night? I can cook and we can finally sit and talk to one another like we used to.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his pleas. It had been a while since you two sat down and basked in each other’s presence. The thought had you hopeful that things could go back to normal.

“I would love that,” you began, “How about Friday? I have a test for a few of my classes this week so we can do it once I’m all free.”

Chris smiled down at you with eyes evident of his admiration for you, “Friday is perfect.”

The rest of the week went on rather differently than previous ones. Your touches came back to his body, fingertips grazing alongside him whenever he was close. Chris would regularly kiss your cheek or top of your shoulder anytime he had the chance.

You did take notice of him on his phone a lot, part of it filled you with uneasiness but the rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t something to ponder too much over, so you let it go.

Chris had been spending the entire week making sure that his plan was rolling smoothly. He had the entire date night planned to a T. He informed his family about it, who were ecstatic for him, making his own mother tear up due to how happy she was. He made sure to have everything ready at the house so that everything would be successful.

The day of the planned affair, you were stuck in your home office grading the last set of tests before being able to officially clock out for the evening. Inputting the grades into Blackboard, you were brought out of focus due to the sounds of buzzing from your phone. Picking up the device, you unlocked it and saw the incoming text from your boyfriend.

Chris: Baby, I know you’re still probably finishing up, but dinner will be ready at my place at around 7. I put something on your bed for you to wear. See you soon!

The endearing message made you smile and also feel a bit elated. You missed the intimate moments shared between you and Chris. The loving looks sent your way, the delicious food and engaging conversations. But most importantly, you missed the sex. Before, the two of you were like jackrabbits, the longest you both went without getting hot and heavy was about 2 days. Now going on over two months, you were becoming insatiable.

Quickly inputting the final test scores in your online grade book, you got ready for your night in with Chris. Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room to be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Laying on the bed was the same black dress that you wore on your first date with him.

With the amount of dresses you had in your wardrobe, it was a shock that he was able to find the specific one you wore that night. The sentiment warmed your heart and filled you with hope.

Rushing to get ready, you went and got dressed, making sure that you appeared your best before heading out.

It was only a quick drive to his home, before you were sat in his driveway.

Your mind was plagued with worry. You feared that if this night didn’t go well, then it would ultimately mean the end of your relationship with the man. Taking in a deep breath, you calmed your nerves before exiting the vehicle and made the trek towards his front door.

Using the house key you still had attached to your own ring set, you unlocked the door and walked in though you didn’t get far when the sight before you made you stop and gasp.

Starting from the front door laid a trail of rose petals leading you through the house. The thoughtful effort made tears begin to form in your eyes and your breath unsteady.

Following the trail, the same smells of vegetables sautéing brought you back to that time over a year ago.

Once you made it inside the kitchen, you saw Chris with an apron adorning his massive frame on top of his suit. Once he took notice of your arrival he turned around and smiled at you. “There you are sweetheart. I was waiting for you to show.”

He turned down the fire before gliding towards you, about to reach down and kiss you when you beat him to it.

Grabbing a hold of either side of his face, you slammed your lips to his; the action surprising you both. You delivered him repeated pecks which caused the brunette to laugh between every one of your kisses.

Getting enough of your intimate fill, you pulled away from him and looked up. “What’s the special occasion? I mean I know it’s date night, but still.”

Chris brought his hands down to rest on the dip of your back before pulling you in closer to him. The action caused your neck to crane up to look directly into his eyes.

“I wanted to make things right with my best girl.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the slight Captain America reference before delivering another kiss, “Thank you, I love it.”

The meal went according to plan, the two of you enjoying the same shrimp scampi dish he made on your first date together.

You were sipping on your glass of wine when you heard Chris speak up.

“Though I’ve said it more times than either of us can count, I need you to know how regretful I am of how I acted.”

You sighed at his words, “Chris, I said it’s-”

“No, it’s not okay (Y/N),” he interrupted you, “It wasn’t okay for me to lash out at you. It wasn’t okay for me to hurt your feelings.”

“Tonight, I tried to recreate our first date together to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Chris had rehearsed what he was planning on saying for the past few days, but here now in this moment he couldn’t remember a single prepared line. So he just decided to follow his heart.

“(Y/N). The day I met you, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but fate brought us together- well I guess I should say Ma did with her insisting.”

His words caused you to chuckle, “I can see where you got your determination. She really didn’t quit until she finally got us in the same room.”

The memory of Lisa bringing you two together that afternoon warmed both of your hearts.

“That day we met was the day I knew that there was no one else in the world that would matter to me as much as you would. Every single day that I get the pleasure of seeing that look on your face will forever make me the luckiest man on the Earth. So when I hurled those words at you and took that smile away, it made me feel horrendous.”

You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt the warmth of your tears sliding down your cheeks.

Chris reached across the table and curled his fingers around your hand, slightly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend that I could be. I realized that my own fears of commitment caused me to take out my frustrations out on you, and absentmindedly pushed you away. But I realized that pushing you away was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

He felt his heart rate race and his organ beat heavily in his chest, his anxiety slowly rising.

“You are the greatest thing to happen to me. You make the worst days seem minuscule whenever you’re around. I love the way you’re able to always help push me through any obstacle I face, no matter how big or small it may be. The way you easily get along with my crazy family. And I love how you make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine anytime I kiss you.”

Chris felt his hands begin to sweat. One of his hands clasped onto yours, while the other held onto the small box in his left pocket of his slacks.

“A few days ago I had a session with my therapist about you. And during it I realized how much I care about you, and how losing you, even though it was brief, was the worst thing I had ever experienced.”

Slowly standing up on shaky legs, he brought you up with him.

“I had to secretly figure out the right size while you were sleeping the other night,” he began to joke, “You don’t know how hard it was to get the measurement done considering how light of a sleeper you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest. You suspected that something was different about his behavior and this evening, and your suspicions were slowly coming to light.

“I can’t ever experience the feeling of not having you by my side again. Waking up to a cold bed and not seeing the way your nose would sometimes crunch up while you're deep in a dream is something I never want to go through again.”

Chris reached into his pocket of his pants and pulled out a cherry red box. The sight of the gold inscription labeling 'Cartier' made your breath catch in your throat and tears fall freely down your face.

The height difference was changed when he steadily dropped down on his left knee, his tear filled blue eyes looking up at you.

“(Y/N), you make me the happiest man in the world. And I know it’s a stereotypical line for me to say, but it’s true. I love how you’re able to bring the best out of me and everyone around you. I love how you love everyone unconditionally. God, I love how fucking breathtaking you are. I am in love with everything about you.”

Letting go of your hand, he held the box in his grasp before cracking it open. The action caused your hands to cover your mouth and you to bend at the knees. With the aid of the lights around the room, it unveiled to you a marquise cut diamond. One either side were two stones. On the left was a pearl, indicating his June birthstone. The other side showed your gemstone, the rocks pairing perfectly with one another.

“So,” Chris began with a shaky breath, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you do me the honor and make me the luckiest person in the world. Will you marry me?”

Your body shook with sobs as you nodded along to his question.

“Wait, are you saying yes?” Chris asked, excitement evident in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s you nodding yes or no.”

Removing your hands from your face you grasped on to your now fiancé’s, “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

Chris didn’t even get the chance to put the ring on you before raising up and slamming his lips against yours. Both of you tasting the salty tears that expelled from the other.

It was his turn to lay a continuous stream of kisses to your lips. Soft chants of ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth between every one.

Pulling away, he retrieved the ring from its box as you held up your left hand. You watched as he slid the band down your finger until it situated perfectly against the base. A content sigh left the both of you.

Chris brought your hand up and kissed the back of it and then your ring finger before locking eyes with you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your gaze flicking back and forth between each other’s lips until finally you two connected them.

This time, the embrace was intimate, more passion filled. Your hands folded against the nape of his neck, the coolness of the gold band making him smile with contentment.

With his hands holding onto your hips, he guided you back until you were met with resistance from the wall behind you; the sudden force causing you to lightly grunt into his mouth.

Lowering his hands until his palms rested on the back of your thighs, he tapped on your skin, an unspoken request for you to jump. While securing your hold on his neck, you jumped up and rested in his palms. With you in his hands, Chris began to walk the two of you towards his bedroom. Since Dodger was staying at his mom's house, he didn’t bother closing the door, not worrying about any sudden intrusion.

Your mouth was still attached to Chris when he laid you down, you head against the soft pillow on the plush bed. His frame towering over you as he shook off the suit jacket from his body, kicked off his shoes and toed his socks away.

“I love you so much (Y/N),” he swooned through kisses.

“I love you too Chris.”

Untying the front of your wrap dress, the silk material fell to the sides of your body, revealing your figure which was only covered by a thin, lace pair of underwear. The sight of your half naked self made him growl down at you in desire.

Removing his lips from yours, he descended down your body, leaving kisses in his wake.

“You’re all mine.”

His lips kissed around your taut nipple, his tongue poking out to flick at your pert bud.

“Forever and always.”

You felt him leaving traces of wetness from open-mouth kisses on your abdomen.

“The love of my life.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your thong before dragging it down your legs.

“My beautiful fiancé.”

You breathing hitched as you felt his warm breath fan across your exposed cunt. The hot air was a stark contrast to the cool slick of your dripping wetness.

“The future Mrs. Evans.”

And with that, Chris flattened out his tongue before running a long stripe up your pussy, lapping up your wetness until he curled it around your clit. “Oh fuck, Chris.”

How exhausting the sexual hiatus that you experienced with the brunette was evident due to how you were squirming on the bed. Your hands spread throughout the sheets, gripping and tugging in an effort to gain some form of steadiness. Over two months without having him on you had you mewling into the air. “Please baby, don’t stop.”

With his tongue occupied, Chris continued to devour you. His tongue alternated between long drags and quick flicks between your folds. You felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening in a desperate attempt to taste more of you- to feel more of you.

Removing his mouth, he heard you begin to groan in disappointment before it turned into a moan when he spat on your cunt then suctioned his lips around your clit. With one hand holding your stomach down, he used the other to enter your soaking hole with his index and middle fingers.

Chris was gentle with his digits inside of you, dragging his pads alongside your ways, stroking your contracting walls and feeling every ridge. Once he was knuckle deep, he scissored your cunt, basking in the sounds of your squelching around his fingers paired with your content moans of relief.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, using the limb to draw slow, tortuous circles on your mound as he watched you fall into the deep recesses of ecstasy.

He observed your neck stretch back, exposing a slightly bulging vein running up the expanse. The way your lips quivered as your moans flew freely out. Your legs began to shake when he hit the spot he was all too familiar with deep in your core.

“Look at me,” Chris demanded, his Boston accent evident in his request, “Need’a watch my pretty girl cum all over my fingers.”

The eye contact with the brunette was intense, more fierce than ever experienced before, but you reveled in every second of it. You noticed how his pupils had become blown out, only showing a small ring of blue surrounding the black.

You tried to keep the gaze locked until you felt your orgasm come full force through your body like a tidal wave. “Christopher!”

Upon hearing your screech of desire and feeling your essence begin to soak his digits, he replaced his thumb back with his mouth, longing to taste every single drop of your sweetness. His fingers continued to pump inside of you, prolonging your release and causing more of your juices to flow into and around his mouth.

Chris finally removed his fingers to drink more of you until you attempted to feebly push his head away, the orgasm causing you to lose most of your strength.

“Sorry princess, you know Daddy just can't get enough of you,” Chris moaned as he licked your essence off his lips.

He rose up your lower half and hovered over you staring down at your exhausted self. You mustered the power to raise your arms and grasp his face in your hands before bringing him down to connect lips once more.

The kisses were lecherous, the both of you yearning to taste every single part of the other. Your tongue was firm against his as he massaged yours while you swallowed each other's moans.

Your body felt on fire with the way his large hands were massaging and caressing every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers digging into your softness and pulling you flush against his frame.

Taking your hands away from his face, you began to unbutton his dress shirt, peeling away the material until it unveiled his tattooed chest. Your fingers tracing the large design on his chest before making its way down to his belt, unbuckling it in the process.

Dragging the leather through the loops and away from his body, you unzipped his trousers before reaching in to palm his obvious erection. The action made the man above you keen against your tongue. “I wanna taste you Chris.”

With your thighs around his hips, you nudged him until your positions were switched. His head against the same pillow, he watched as you tugged down the material on his lower half, leaving the two of you completely bare for one another.

You laid down on your stomach between his legs before grabbing hold onto the base of his cock, drawing a hiss from Chris.

His head craned back at the feel of your wet mouth tonguing his length, the wet muscle licking a stripe from the base to his tip. “Ohh- that's it baby.”

You collected your spit before it dripped from your mouth and on his head, the liquid cascading down the massive length. Using it for your advantage, you began to stroke him while attaching your lips around his tip. Your tongue flicked his slit while drinking up his precum.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N).”

Removing one of your hands, you began to swallow his length, stroking off what you couldn’t take down. His moans and groans only stir you on as you bask in the feel of him throbbing in your mouth. With your free hand, you began to palm at his balls; the action making him grip the sheets as well as tenderly holding the side of your head.

His mouth was parted, showing only his tongue, as he panted out. “That’s it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Chris felt his peak slowly approaching, the buildup steadily growing with every swipe of your tongue, suction from your lips and tug at his balls. Though he would’ve loved to release down your throat and watch your mouth milk his balls, he wanted- needed to feel your warmth surrounding him as he coated your walls.

He went to unlatch you from his cock and raise you towards him. “I need to feel you,” he breathed out, “I miss the feel of you around me (Y/N).”

You crawled up his body til you were straddling his hips. Reaching down, you pumped his length a few times before positioning it for entry. The second you began the descent and his head met the resistance from your cunt, you both groaned out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer so he brought his hands to your hips and fully sank you down on him, sheathing his entire cock inside of you. The action made you lurch forward with your hands planting themselves on his chest in search of stability.

“Oh that’s it princess,” professed Chris, “Missed this tight fucking cunt choking my cock. Missed you so goddamn much.”

With the help of his hands on your hips, you began to slowly work yourself on his dick. Every rise and fall of your hips made you experience the delectable feel of his veined shaft drag against your channel.

“Oh Christopher,” you cooed as you felt him throb inside of you.

“That’s it princess, I’m right here.”

You brought your hands from off of him and covered his large ones. Removing them from your body, you intertwined digits. The new position of your hands allowed the newly added engagement ring to gleam under the light.

If he had a camera, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of you in that moment. Every buck of your hips caused your breasts to bounce, the action enticing him even more than already. The sweat that began to form on your body caused your body to shine from the bedroom lights, making your body appear as if it were glowing.

He wanted to frame the glorious sight of you, but he decided to settle with the fact of knowing he would be able to recreate this exact moment for the rest of his life. Recreate with you as husband and wife.

He rose up from the mattress and maneuvered your legs to wrap around his waist before sitting on his haunches. The new position of your naked chest pressed up against his own while he fucked you on his cock was a sort of intimacy that couldn’t be explained.

The closeness of your faces allowed you to feel each other’s breaths warm your features. You could see pupils being blown, feel the sweat dripping off one another, and hear every single sound that escaped the other's mouth.

Attaching his lips to yours, Chris moaned into your mouth. “That’s it baby, cream all around my cock. Milk me til I fill you up with my cum.”

The heels of your feet dug into his lower back and your fingertips gripped onto his neck, leaving scratches in its wake.

You knew for certain that you would have bruises on your waist with the way he had latched onto you, raising you up and down his length.

With every thrust, your sweaty skin slapped together as his balls spanked up against your ass.

“Ahh baby, I- fuck Chris I’m almost there.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m right behind you.”

A few more harsh thrusts as his tip slammed against your g-spot and you were suddenly slammed into the blissful abyss of your orgasm. The tightness of your contracting walls caused Chris to achieve his own release. The shouting sounds of you two reaching your respective peaks echoed throughout the room.

Warmth flooded your body and your cunt as you felt Chris’s cock shoot ribbons of his seed deep into you. He continued to drag you along his length, hoping to prolong the glorious feeling of your pussy throbbing around him.

After the sensation of your peak began to wane, he fell back against the mattress, bringing you down with him.

The two of you laid there in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth radiating off the other.

Chris strokes your back, long traces of his thumb running along your spine as you both regain your breath.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N). So goddamn much.”

Still a little too spent, you nodded while your hands toyed around with his chest.

While you two sat there, a realization popped into the brunette's head, making him begin to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his ass jiggle with every step out of the room, the sight making you chuckle. When he returned, he held his phone in his hand.

“Seriously Christopher, you wanna make a sex tape right now?”

A boisterous laughter left him at your assumption, “No sweetheart, not that.”

Chris sat back next to you on the bed as he scrolled through his phone gallery. After a few flicks on his thumb, he finally found the photo that you two took on your first date. You were as beautiful as ever, smiling at the camera as he looked in awe at you.

You watched as he loaded up Instagram and clicked on the plus sign to create a new post. “Chris, what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Choosing the desired photo, he went to begin typing out his caption that would unveil you to the world.

chrisevans: A little over a year ago this photo was taken on our first date. I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, that’s why I eagerly asked you to be mine. (Y/N) you make me the happiest man that I could be. I know this past year and a half has been a tough one, especially with everyone in the world claiming that they were dating me while I kept you in the shadows, but enough is enough. There’s no one else that I would rather be with. There’s no one in this entire world that holds a candle to you. To your beauty, your kindness, your everything. You are the love of my life. As of tonight, my fiancé. And soon to be my wife. I love you more than words can describe princess. (Y/@/N)

Chris finished typing out his message before looking down at you, silently asking for approval. He watched as your index finger raised up and clicked on the share button, indicating the end of your secrecy.

A dopey smile made his face before he looked at you, phone in hand, “Now, about that sex tape.”

You laughed at his joke as he made his way to kiss you once more. The embrace was full of contentment due to knowing that things were back to normal with a growing relationship full of unwavering love, reinstated trust, and pure happiness.

A/N: and that's a wrap folks. thank you to everyone who read this series.

also i would like to say that this is in no way an indication of chris evans personality or character. this is just fiction.

if you enjoyed this, please make sure to reblog and comment. feedback is much appreciated !

* divider credits : @firefly-graphics *

[landinoandco]

An Unlikely Grand Prix

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Warnings: flufffff

Word count: 2.1k

Requests are open :)

The Belgium Grand Prix was one that was highly anticipated - not only did it mark the end of the summer break and start to the second part of the season but it also promised some quality racing with its high speed corners.

You and Daniel were sitting in your hotel room on Sunday morning, a drink of coffee in your hand and a vitamin smoothie in his, your laptop open in front of you as you made some edits to the latest version of your book. You were an author and about to finish the final edit of your new novel.

“Have you seen the weather forecast for today?” He asked, leaning onto his forearms. You looked over your laptop lid and nodded, taking off your glasses.

“I have, you better be careful. It was bad enough in qualifying yesterday - “ You paused, saving your work and closing your laptop down. “I don’t care what people say - wet races always make me nervous. They shouldn’t have sent you out in Q3, it was hard to watch.”

A silence fell between the both of you, Daniel watched with a softness in his eyes. He knew exactly how you felt and he loved how supportive you were of him. You were his biggest fan and he could not be more thankful for it - you were there for him every weekend through rain and sunshine and through good races and bad races. You knew him better than anyone.

“I will be as careful as I can -” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I really feel like I’m getting somewhere though - P4.” He exclaimed, a smile flashing across his handsome features. You brushed your thumb over his hand.

“It was a really good lap - especially given the weather.” You agreed.

You moved your gaze to the window - the steady sound of rain hitting the hotel window filled the room.

“It’s definitely going to be a tense one.” Daniel muttered, pushing his chair back and getting up. You followed and made your way to the door, shrugging on your coat as you went.

The rain was pouring down as though the heavens above had opened - Daniel held an umbrella above both of you, sheltering you from the downpour. Members from different teams raced around the paddock to dry shelter - the buzz of conversation could already be heard from the grandstand in front of the pitlane. You admired the dedication of the fans; it was far from just a shower and for those exposed without even the slightest of cover would be drenched to the bone even by now and the grand prix was far from starting.

You looked over to Dan, his eyes twinkling and a spring in his step told you that he was looking forward to today’s race. His eyes flickered down to meet your gaze, bumping his shoulder into yours causing you to chuckle.

It was incredible to think about all of the things you two had managed to fit into 3 (going on 4) years. You met each other on the top of Table Mountain in Cape Town, you were there plotting for your next novel and Daniel was there hiking with his friends…

You were sat on a rock, looking out to the city of Cape Town tucked away under the mountain range - you were out in South Africa on an escape from the cramped conditions of London. You had a deadline quickly approaching to come up with a plot for your next book and as of that moment you still weren’t any closer to coming up with the next bestseller. Sure, you had ideas but they were yet to set a light a fire of motivation in you.

You had zoned out, your gaze attached to a bird soaring across the landscape ahead of you when a sudden voice pulled you swiftly out.

“Whatchu’ writing about?” The man asked, his tone was bright and as you looked over at him you saw the beaming smile stretched across his features. His eyes showed a confident but kind manner, brown curls stuck to his forehead and the beginnings of a beard covered the bottom half of his face.

“If I knew, I would tell you.” You quipped back, turning to face the man in order to see him properly. He had a muscular physique, no doubt a sportsman - you had thought at the time - an explosion of colour seeping out from his shorts caught your eye as you clocked the tattoos; they weren’t the only ones either as little drawings were littered over his hands and arms.

“Nice tattoos.” You complimented, nodding over to him. If it was at all possible, his smile grew larger and he put his fist out.

“I’m Daniel, by the way, Daniel Ricciardo.”

The rest was history - an adventure packed history. One filled with enough adrenaline to last you for the rest of your existence. The introductions had also prompted your next plot idea so the following week when you had returned to London you turned it into your agent - who had immediately loved the outline you had presented.

A few hours later and the start of the Belgium grand prix was approaching but still the track was resembling more of a spa - ironically - than a safe and functional track. Dan walked in from the drivers parade and shivered - his coat having provided no cover.

Frowning, you got up and handed him a towel, “What are the conditions like?” Nerves laced your tone. Dan sat down, shrugging, “They’re what we expected them to be like but it’s really rough. If we can even see 6 feet ahead it would be a miracle.”

A miracle was something they were all desperate for and before they knew it the race had been red flagged - deemed too dangerous to race so all of the teams were in their garages coming up with ways to entertain themselves.

You had made your way out of the McLaren garage to join Daniel who was wandering up and down the pitlane looking for a way to cause havoc.

You crept up to him and grabbed his shoulders and shouted: “boo,” in his ear causing him to jump up in shock and scream. You and many witnesses were doubled over in laughter as the Australian held his hand to his chest.

“I just came to say -” You started, “That you looked like you were about to do something mischievous and I wanted in on whatever your plan was.”

Dan looked at you with complete adoration in his eyes, a lopsided grin formed on his face. At that moment, he had never loved you more. It was a strange feeling that he couldn’t quite describe - it was just one he felt warming up his entire body. One thing he had always adored about you was the way you understood him - at the beginning of the relationship he knew you had found it hard to deal with his childish, devil may care attitude. As soon as you relaxed more around him, you two became more comfortable with one another - you decided to try his way of living. Letting fate take you to your next adventure and enjoying the unpredictability of it all. From your first adrenaline seeking adventure Dan had managed to persuade you to join him in - he knew he had found his partner in crime. Most importantly, Dan had taught you a way of living that was more enjoyable, a way of living that allowed you to get more out of life and push your comfort zone right to the limit.

“I have a few ideas.” He smirked, then grabbed your hand twirling you around as though you were ballroom dancing.

“What are you doing?” You giggled, the corners of your eyes crinkled as he pulled you into his chest, guiding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder as he grasped the other in his and held them up as though you were dancing the waltz; finally placing his hand on your waist.

“I don’t suppose you would have seen it but in 2015, the American qualifying was cancelled due to rain and to pass the time I danced with my teammate. I figured I would make a tradition of it.” He explained, twirling you around again.

“Did Lando not want to dance with you?” You questioned, the corners of your lips quirked up. Daniel stopped and took a step back. For a moment you thought you had said something wrong but then a spray of water splashed up the front of your coat. Gasping, you wiped the water from your face and Daniel’s smug smile came into focus. You looked down to where he was standing and saw a gaping hole that had now filled up with water.

“You little-” You had begun, a smile betraying you entirely as it crept upon your features. You wanted to pretend to be angry but he had caught you off guard.

“I thought that you would be a nicer dance partner - but apparently not.” He retorted, biting down on his lip in an attempt to stifle his laughter at your facial expressions. You looked at him and then down at the puddle, back at Daniel and then decided what your next move would be; before you could however he had picked you up over his shoulder, spinning around happily.

“Daniel-” You protested, having to close your eyes to avoid feeling motion sick. You heard him chortle then give in as you felt your two feet touch the ground once again. You pouted at him, strands of hair now stuck to your forehead - it was a sight to behold. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat, his breath becoming shallower as he brushed the loose strands of hair from your face. He had decided at that moment that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he was ready to start the next chapter of his life with you. It would be a brand new adventure and probably the scariest yet.

“Marry me.” He mumbled, brushing his thumb over your cheek. He froze, an idea sparked, turning on his heel he fled in the direction of the McLaren garage.

Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, your heart thumping against your ribs. Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you glanced around you only to realise the whole of the pitlane and grandstand of fans had fallen silent - watching on in anticipation. Had they heard what he had said? How could they have, Daniel had muttered so quietly even you had struggled to hear the words that tumbled from his lips. Little did you know, a camera had caught every moment and you were now the sole focus as you waited for Daniel to come back.

Moments later and he was running out of the McLaren garage, something in his left hand. You squinted to get a better look, from where you were standing all you could see was a flash of blue - but as he came closer you realised what he was holding was in fact a Haribo packet.

Your hands flew to cover your mouth, you knew exactly what he was about to do. You were fighting back tears of joy as he opened the haribo packet and pulled out a gummy ring, got down on one knee and said: “Marry me. Our new adventure, just you and me. My partner in crime.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as you nodded fervently, words appearing to fail you. You flung your arms around his neck. There was an eruption of cheer from around you, as fans whistled and clapped and fellow teams called out in congratulations.

You placed a hand either side of Daniel’s face, tears shone in his eyes. To most a gummy ring would seem immature - laughable even but to you, it confirmed to you how much you loved the man standing in front of you. The gummy ring he had presented to you meant so much more than being a Haribo. It represented you both as a couple. A love that was unconditional and would never get old and yet whilst you both would age - the love you had for one another would stay youthful, unpredictable and exciting.

You were more than ready to start the next chapter of your adventure with the man you loved most.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Date With the Side Characters is Going Terribly and Then it Starts to Rain

Brothers ver.

Diavolo

It was a tragic truth that the poor Crown Prince didn’t get to go out and have fun very often, but he had managed to get a singular day off! He of course was going to spend it with the future monarch-consort of the Devildom!

Diavolo had a whole list written out that was full of fun cliche date activities that he wanted to try, and it was also full of stuff MC said they wanted to do, so the date was going to be completely perfect.

As Diavolo and MC walked hand in hand to Madame Scream’s, they both took notice to the fact that literally every single demon in the vicinity was staring at the two of them.

The crown prince laughed it off, saying that MC looked so positively radiant that everyone couldn’t help but stop and look. MC laughed and leaned their head against Dia’s arm, but both of them knew full well that everyone was really staring at Diavolo.

To be fair, wouldn’t you stare if the most powerful person in the entire realm walked by holding hands with a pathetic little human?

They got to Madame Scream’s, got their sweets, then Diavolo got a phone call. It was Lucifer frantically explaining that the RAD gym was on fire and he needed to run everything by Diavolo before he could do anything about it.

That ate up about fifteen minutes and the desserts ended up getting cold… Diavolo tried to make light of it as the two finally got to eat their chocolate chip cookies.

“So apparently one student thought it would be a good idea to set a firework off inside, you know I encourage having fun at school but maybe they should have set this off outside.” “Maybe..?”

Next it was time for a romantic walk on the beach! That would have gone better if Diavolo remembered it was giant-crab season. As cool as it was to watch Diavolo hammer-throw an eight foot tall crab into the ocean it left MC’s ankles vulnerable to get pinched by regular sized crabs.

And maybe they both should have wore appropriate shoes… they were sinking into the sand and it was getting into their shoes…

Okay, so the beach didn’t work out, Diavolo had plenty of other ideas! They just had to- wait he was getting another call.

Half an hour later, Diavolo was finally able to hang up and gave MC an apologetic look. He said that he needed to cut the date short and go to an unavoidable meeting…

Oh well, at least this date couldn’t get any-

A loud crack of thunder caused Diavolo to nearly drop his phone in surprise. Oh… oh no… not rain…

Large droplets of water pelted the pair as they waited for Barbatos to pick them up. Diavolo slowly lifted up his arm and shielded MC from the rain as best he could. Well… this outfit was ruined, the least he could do was try and save MC’s…

“Well…” Diavolo tentatively began. “I heard getting caught in the rain is supposed to be romantic..?”

MC only sighed and moved a little closer, they folded their arms and stared blankly ahead. Their glassy expression made the crown prince’s heart sink right to the floor. Maybe he could cancel the meeting! He promised he’d spend more time with MC and he intended to keep it!

“MC, I could-”

“Dia, no.” MC looked up and gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I knew what I was getting into when I said I’d be with you. Your kingdom is more important than one little date.”

“But I wanted to make you happy today…” Diavolo mumbled. His kingdom had always come first, before his friends, before MC, before even himself, was it so much to ask to have just one day for him to spend with the person he loved?

The human reaches up and lowered Diavolo’s arm and looped it around their shoulders. “And you did, any time that I get to spend with you makes me happy. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. The crab moment was pretty awesome.”

MC pulled out their DDD and showed Diavolo a picture of himself chucking the giant crab into the watery horizon. “We can put at least one moment of this date into the photo album.”

The precise tapping of the falling raindrops cause the DDD to flick to the next picture, which was an awkwardly angled snapshot of MC brandishing a stick at a much smaller crab who had attached its claws to their ankle.

“Uh, maybe not this picture…”

Barbatos

The poor butler rarely ever gets a day off, and he could tell MC missed spending time with him, so he asked Diavolo for a day off.

Of course Diavolo said yes, but when the day of the date came…

Barbatos saw every mishap and disaster coming a mile away. The smart thing to do would be cancel the date, but NO. Barbatos was going to use his powers for good and make sure MC had the time of their life!

The first disaster was supposed to come in the form of a pickpocket stealing MC’s wallet, key word being supposed.

As the perp made their way through the somewhat crowded sidewalk, fully prepared to swipe some wallets, Barbatos quickly twirled and dipped MC out of the way. This action also conveniently had the result of Barb knocking the pickpocket out cold.

MC of course, was none the wiser of the attempted theft and just assumed Barbatos was being suave (tm).

The second disaster was both MC and Barbatos getting hot coffee accidentally spilled all over them. Or it WOULD have been if Barbatos hadn’t quickly notified the person that would have spilled the drink that their shoelaces were undone.

Hell yeah! Second disaster averted!

The date progressed smoothly, well, as smooth as it could have gone. All those days of work and the task of making sure MC was none the wiser of any of the nasty things that could have ruined the date was really making Barbatos tired…

“Barbatos, are you alright?” “*exhausted breathing* Y-yes dearest, of course. Don’t trouble yourself.”

MC would have bought that lie if Barbatos didn’t look like he had just finished running a ten kilometre long race through a heatwave.

After making sure MC was not in the path of the escaped hellhound that would be running down the street in three, two, one, there it went, MC was safe and sound, Barbatos sighed in relief.

Just one more thing…

In the smoothest possibly motion, Barbatos opened the umbrella he had been carrying and held it over himself and MC.

MC looked up at the umbrella perplexed. “Barbatos, why-”

Thunder rumbled as the first drops of rain pelted harmlessly against the umbrella. Barbatos smiled softly and took MC’s hand. “Did you enjoy the date, darling?”

“Have you been doing damage control all day..?” MC asked. “Oh no wonder you look exhausted…”

Barbatos’ face burned with embarrassment when MC wrapped their arms around him.

“You work way to hard, this date was supposed to be relaxing for the both of us,” MC sighed. “You know what? We’re going to go back to the Demon Lord’s Castle, and I’m making you tea and snacks.”

“MC..?”

They began to pull Barbatos in the direction of the castle and plucked the umbrella out of his hand.

“I’ll hold this.” MC smiled brightly. “You relax, mister.”

Barbatos was about to protest, then sighed, no future he could see in his brief overview involved MC giving up on their new mission to make him take a break. He felt himself smile, he really lucked out with this human, didn’t he?

Simeon

The next volume of TSL had been released and Simeon was officially completely exhausted. He had spent the past two days signing special hardback copies and his writing hand was officially deceased.

He needed to relax and unwind… who better to do it with than MC? Simeon simply invited MC over to Purgatory Hall to hang out.

Oh my~ premarital eye contact~

It was just so nice, MC rested their head on Simeon’s chest while they lounged in bed watching TV, their hands gently intwined, the smell of Luke baking cookies…

Simeon let out a content sigh, he was truly and completely at peace in that moment. The soft knock on the door to his room barely phased him.

Solomon poked his head into the room with a bright smile.

“Hi you two, so sorry to barge in on your date, but before Luke took over the kitchen I made way too much food. I’ll bring some in for you guys!” “Solomon no-” “Wait!”

The date was now in intense danger. They needed to get out of there immediately! The first thing the angel could think to do to save the love of his life was to throw them out of the window.

Fret not, MC’s fall slowed considerably and they gently landed on the grass outside thanks to Simeon’s magic, but the angel himself was not as lucky. Yes his fall was slowed, but he still faceplanted into the dirt.

The two ended up running for dear life away from Purgatory Hall, further exhausting Simeon.

Well, at least they ended up near a very pretty fountain. Simeon and MC sat on the fountain ledge and resumed their snuggling.

Until Simeon got a phone call from a very frantic Luke begging for help with his math homework.

Due to being quite rusty at the subject, Simeon had to teach himself how to calculate the square root of something and then teach Luke, which was honestly frustrating for everyone involved.

After the homework was felt with, Simeon got ready to sit back down on the fountain ledge, ended up missing, then slipped straight into the fountain. It was a good thing that the water was shallow…

Then to MC and Simeon’s horror, it began to rain.

“Well…” Simeon sighed, he accepted MC’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of the fountain. “This isn’t so bad..?”

Lightning cracked in the distance, Simeon pulled MC into his arms on reflex, only to then realize that MC had become just as soaked as he was.

“I… sorry, MC.”

Simeon slowly unwrapped his arms from around MC, but the human remained firmly in place. “Ah, it’s fine. Want to call a cab or back to Purgatory Hall?”

“Y-yes, that sounds-” Simeon felt around for his phone, then winced and looked into the fountain. His phone was lying at the bottom of the fountain… “Do you think you could call?”

MC perked up and planted a kiss on Simeon’s cheek. “Of course, we can cuddle in the car.”

“That sounds wonderful…”

Solomon

Solomon decided to text MC at two in the morning to ask them out. In his defence, he was up late making potions and didn’t notice what time it was.

“Hey MCMCMCMCMC-” “ITS TWO OCLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.” “Wanna go on a date tmrw?” “…ok.” “🥳” “see you tomorrow, Solomon.” “Oh yea- that reminds me- look at this snail I saw yesterday.” “Effervescent.” “Marry me.”

Obviously super happy that MC said yes to the date, Solomon was newly rejuvenated and went back to making his potion. It was six in the morning when he realized that maybe he should have just quit while he was ahead and went back to sleep.

It was a little late for that! He needed to go to school, then go on the date. Solomon gracefully took MC’s hand, led them out of the school, then fell down the stairs.

It um… may have messed up his tailbone. Solomon never felt more like an old man than when he and MC sat down at the cafe for coffee and MC had to help him into his seat.

The coffee arrived, MC and Solomon drank it, and Solomon just sighed in relief. This was nice, time with his sweet MC…

The way they made him feel so completely at ease… that smile… those eyes… those eyes were looking very confused-

“Solomon…” “Yes my sweet?” “There’s uh… there’s a giant spider on your head…”

…Solomon looked up and the giant spider fell right into his drink. He wasn’t thirsty anymore.

A little later, he and MC were walking hand in hand through the park, the darkness of the Devildom was almost comforting as the fireflies and pixies created little balls of light that danced around the pair.

It was such a soothing sight to behold, Solomon and MC sat down beneath a giant tree. MC rested their head on his shoulder, and Solomon let out a content sigh. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment…

Solomon was harshly shaken awake by MC who yelled at him for falling asleep in the presence of pixies. Solomon had completely forgotten that pixies like to possess sleeping people. That was probably why he was awoken in the middle of stuffing his face with cookies that were in his backpack.

The two unanimously decided that it would be best to head back to Purgatory Hall. When the two had just returned to civilization… Solomon heard thunder.

Quick as a flash, Solomon looped his arm around MC’s waist and pulled them closer, using his other hand to draw a circle above them, when the rain began to fall, the two were completely dry thanks to the shield.

“Ha… HA! HAHAHA!” Solomon pointed and laughed at the sky. “GOT YOU BITCH!”

“Solomon..?” MC asked tentatively. “Are you alright?”

The sorcerer looked at his dear sweet perfect MC, gave them a toothy smile, and shook his head. “No darling, I’ve been awake for 56 hours.”

“Wait what? You texted me at two in the morning, you couldn’t have been awake for more than an extra few hours..?”

Solomon peppered MC’s face with sleepy kisses as the rain pattered against the shield. “I have a weird life.”

“You know what, I buy it.” MC sighed fondly. “Do you want to go home and sleep?”

“More than anything, I’ll teleport us home!”

“NO! Let’s just call someone to pick us up!”

[watchmegetobsessed]

A STEP FURTHER

Sequel to SIT ON ME

a/n: as per requested, here is a part two to my recent sebastian fic! hope you guys will like it as much as you did the previous part! also, there’s not gonna be any more parts!

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Assistant!Reader

word count: 3k

masterlist

You were expecting it. You knew how the internet and most importantly, Sebastian’s fans work. Just hours after the event, dozens of videos got out of Sebastian saying that he wanted you to sit on him if he was a chair, an answer to a highly inappropriate question that shouldn’t have been asked in the first place, but your crazy ass boss thought otherwise.

It washed over the whole fandom and soon enough everyone was talking about the two of you. And because part of your job is to be up to date about Sebastian’s media presence, you had to face not just him but yourself all over the internet. Fans started to dig up every tiny interaction between the two of you caught on camera, they posted photo montages of you and him just out and about or going from one meeting to the other. They started to look for signs that you’re dating and half of the fandom became convinced that you’re in a secret relationship. Speculations and rumors spread faster than wildfire and there was no way to stop it, you just had to live with it.

In the meanwhile, Sebastian didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. It’s like he didn’t even acknowledge the fuss about the two of you, like it was all so natural and normal to be seen as a couple by the whole world when you were just his employee.

“What? It’s not like I ever addressed anything about my dating life,” he shrugged one day when you asked him why he is not caring about the situation at all. And that was pretty much it.

The fans wouldn’t have been that big of a deal to you either. They are strangers, they always get fixated on something and soon enough you knew something new would come up and make them forget about your existence. The people close to you on the other hand are a whole different side of the story.

Following the event, Mackie wouldn’t shut up about Sebastian being hopelessly in love with you and he would nag you to go on a date already, getting on your nerves even more than he usually does with his nosiness. You love the man, you really do, but he needs to learn how to stay in his own lane.

And then, slowly but surely every friend you and Sebastian shared caught up on the story and they started asking you about it again and again and you had to tell them the same thing every damn time: you and Sebastian were working together, no romance was involved between the two of you.

No one believed you.

Now it’s been weeks and people still go crazy whenever you and Seb step out together, which happens quite often since he’s been having a busy month work-wise. Paparazzi are always following you around, catching every moment you spend out in the public, putting you on the tabloids nonstop. It’s become your usual.

Another day, another event. The day starts early for you before you pick Sebastian up and heading out to have breakfast before you are supposed to show up at the concert hall that’s going to be the venue of today’s interview and Q&A.

“Mackie has been blowing my phone up all morning,” you grumble upon seeing another text from said man before you just turn your phone screen facing down so you can finish your toast in peace.

“What does he want?” Sebastian hums.

“He is asking if I’m coming today, as if I missed any events these past weeks,” you huff shaking your head.

“He has been acting weird,” Sebastian grimaces, reaching for his coffee. “Weirder than his usual,” he adds.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just asks weird stuff,” he shrugs, not paying much attention to it and you decide to do the same.

Not much later, you’re finished with your food, only sipping on your coffee when you spot a group of girls near your table, their phones pointing in your direction and you have to stop yourself from growling, turning a little so you’re not facing the phones entirely. Sebastian notices your discomfort and looking around he spots the girls as well before turning back to face you. He doesn’t say a word, just gets up from his seat and strides over to the group as you watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi girls, can I ask you to delete the pictures you took, please? I’m happy to take selfies with you, just please don’t post the ones of us eating, okay?” you hear him ask them, leaving you completely speechless. Luckily, the girls are happy to obligate and he quickly poses for pictures with all of them before joining you back at the table.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You clearly didn’t like that they took pictures of us and I know you don’t like how we are being talked about recently, so I thought I would… try to help about that a little,” he shrugs, finishing the rest of his coffee.

“I just don’t like that everyone is in our business,” you sigh, folding your arms on your chest as you lean back in your seat.

“So we have business? Together?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you over the table.

“That’s not how I… We talked about this, Seb,” you breathe out, your shoulders falling forward.

“Ages ago. Things might have changed since then,” he suggests shrugging his shoulder.

“I still work for you,” you point it out. “Things are better this way.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mumbles, clearly hurt by your words, but there’s not much you can do against it. “Let’s go, I don’t want Mackie to be up in my ass for being late,” he sighs, leaving the money on the table that most likely covers both your meals and a fat tip as well.

The car ride to the venue is silent, but not in the comfortable way it sometimes is. It’s awkward and you keep glancing at him, trying to find the right words but you’re not even sure what you want to tell him.

I’m sorry we work together so we can’t date? I’m sorry I keep rejecting you? I’m sorry I’m afraid if we go any further than this it will ruin our friendship?

You have absolutely no idea how to deal with it, so you just stay silent, right until you arrive to the venue. Before Seb could get out of the car you speak up.

“Are you mad at me now?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip.

“I’m not mad, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you,” he truthfully answers, his eyes only falling on you after he has spoken.

“But there’s something, I can tell.”

“I’m just a little frustrated, is all.”

“Because of what people say about us?” you make a guess.

“Because there’s this unsaid situation between us and you just don’t let me address it. You don’t want to talk about it and whenever it’s brought up, you just shut the door right at my face,” he explains and with each spoken word, you feel worse and worse.

“It’s a complicated situation,” you breathe out.

“It’s not,” he retorts. “Do you not like me?”

“Of course I like you!”

“Okay, I like you too so why can’t we be more than just friends?”

“Because we are not just friends. I’m working for you, it’s a different situation!”

“Y/N, this is not an office job, there’s no HR, no policies, we can do whatever we want!” he chuckles bitterly as you keep your eyes down. You don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not just because of work, but because you’re terribly afraid of being a disappointment to him if you eventually give it a try.

Your silence doesn’t amuses Sebastian and you don’t have time to rave any longer about the situation.

“Forget it, sorry I brought it up again. Let’s just… get over with this thing,” he mumbles before getting out of the car.

You move around each other like strangers, he is clearly avoiding to even look at you and you’re feeling guilty even though you don’t think you have a reason to. Still, you hate seeing him this upset, especially when it’s because of you.

The change in your act is not that evident, but Mackie immediately notices it. When you walk past him he grabs your wrist and pulls you aside.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks with wide, curious eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you retort, acting innocent, but there’s a reason why you didn’t become an actress, you suck at even lying.

“You and Seb are acting like a divorcing couple!” he whisper-yells. Pursing your lip you start chewing on the inside of your cheek as you nervously tap your foot on the ground.

“We just… had a little disagreement.”

“About what?”

“Us,” you breathe out, your head hanging low.

“Wait, so there is an ‘us’?” he asks, air-quoting the last word and you roll your eyes at him.

“No, that’s what the disagreement was about. He wants and I…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t, because I know that’s bullshit. Y/N, I see the way you look at that man, why are you making it so hard for the both of you?”

“It’s just—It might ruin everything and I can’t afford that right now.”

“Ruin everything?!” he grimaces. “What would it ruin?”

“I said fucking everything!” you snap at him, losing your patience that you’re the only one who has issues with the situation. “Our friendship, my job, everything! And I don’t want that. I can’t have that.”

“Dating someone wouldn’t ruin the friendship, Y/N. This is not middle school. Friendship is part of being with someone and you two have that. Just let it take a step further.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have stuff to do,” you mumble under your breath before walking away from him before he could get another word out.

It’s not that you don’t want it, because you do, you really do. You’ve been in love with the man for a long time and knowing that he has feelings for you too makes you have a heart attack every time you think about it. But you are so afraid it might go south and then you’ll end up losing your job and one of your closest friends as well. Because above everything Sebastian grew to be your biggest confidant, the person you turn to whenever you are feeling down, when you need a shoulder to cry on, you can’t imagine your life without him anymore and it’s not just about the times when you’re working. Traveling around the world with him is a blessing, you love the little moments you share, the late night movie nights in hotel rooms or when you’re exploring a new city together. You love messing around in his trailer when he is filming, making silly videos on sets or playing around with props you shouldn’t even touch. You can share anything with him and vice versa. If you lose him for whatever reason, you would be left with a hole in your life that would just simply never disappear, because no one will ever be like him and that’s a fact. You’re terribly afraid to risk everything for something that might not even work. You might be a horrible item, romance can bring out things of people that haven’t shown before.

The guys finally get on stage and you watch them from the side as always. It goes as usual, they are joking around, making a show, entertaining the audience as they go over the interview before the question round starts. You don’t realize it at first, but you’re holding your breath as one question follows the other, you’re scared someone might ask Sebastian about you and the shit show would blow up again. You can only hope his answer wouldn’t be as stupid as it was before. But luckily, the audience keeps you out of their business, only focusing on what’s important, so you start to feel relieved. Right until the whole event is nearing its end and Mackie decides to take matters into his own hands.

“I think we have time for one more question,” the interviewer announces and dozens of hands shoot up into the air, desperate to get the chance to ask the men on stage, but before anyone could get the mic, Mackie speaks up.

“Actually, can I have that last question?” he chimes in holding up a finger.

“Uh, sure, go ahead!” the interviewer responds, clearly a little puzzled about his request. Mackie then turns to face Sebastian who is sitting on his right and just by the look on his face you already know what it’s gonna be about.

“Sebastian, my question is: What do you love most about Y/N?”

He can barely finish the question, the crowd erupts in cheers and whistles that he had the guts to ask him about you, but you’re feeling different about his ballsy move.

“Mackie! No!” you shout from the side, both men looking your way. Mackie tries to look innocent while Sebastian’s face is unreadable, his piercing blue eyes are just staring right back at you and you wish you could read his mind.

“Alright, I take back the ques—“ Mackie starts in a mumble, but Sebastian is quick to cut him off.

“Nah, I’ll answer,” he simply says, another round of cheering filling the place and you accept defeat.

Squatting down you hug your knees to your chest as you listen to the inevitable answer Sebastian is about to give.

“What I love the most about Y/N is that she is genuinely the best person anyone could ever have in their life. She is so selfless and caring towards others, always got her friends’ back no matter what. I love that we aren’t just simply working together but we are friends too, really good ones and that I know nothing can change that.”

Listening to his soothing voice through the speakers, you feel your throat closing up, especially at the last part he just said. Chewing on your bottom lip you tilt your head to the side as he continues.

“Literally anything can happen, we could have the worst fight ever and I still know that we would make up no matter what. She is… just an amazing and exceptional person.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence and you’re staring at him from afar with teary eyes as his eyes are glued to his hands in his lap.

“Damn,” Mackie breathes out, making everyone laugh and Sebastian’s gaze rises to him with a small smile on his lips.

There’s no time to dwell on his answer, the event needs to end. The interviewer thanks for their time and as the crowd cheers to them they head off the stage, waving at them until they disappear.

You’ve moved to the corner of the room, not wanting to be in the way, but you’re still not over the speech Sebastian just gave about you. As he appears from the stage his eyes are clearly scanning the room, searching for someone and when he finally spots you, his face hardens as he heads in your way. You’re standing with your hand covering your lips, eyes still slightly watered and seeing you like this he knots his eyebrows together in worry.

“Hey, what’s—“

“Did you mean that?” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Did you mean it that nothing can change that?”

“Of course,” he nods, finally seeing what this is all about. “We’ve always found our way back to each other, haven’t we?”

“But dating is so much different than what we do now!” you breathe out, still not entirely sure it’s what you should do.

“Why would it be?” he chuckles softly. “We are already spending the majority of our time together, we know each other better than some couples, it wouldn’t be that big of a change, Y/N. And just like how it could ruin things between us, not taking the step could do the same, because sooner or later it’s gonna be unbearable, one of us might end up dating someone else and that wouldn’t do good to us for sure. I would rather accept the end of it knowing that we gave us a try than not even trying.”

“What if I turn out to be a completely shitty girlfriend?” you ask in a whisper as he steps closer, his hands finding your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, holding them gently. “W-What if I—“

“Shut up,” he cuts you off chuckling. “There’s no chance you are shitty at anything,” he replies teasingly, making you smile the slightest. “But even if you do end up being one, we’ll work on it together.”

His hands guide your hands around his waist, you hold onto his shirt as he cups your face in his hands, his face inching closer until his nose is brushing against yours.

“I really hope you’re right,” you breathe out, giving up to resist it any longer. There’s no use.

“Was I ever not right?” he asks smugly.

“Oh remember when—“

You don’t get to finish, because he silences you the best way possible, his lips smashing onto yours. It’s been long due and it doesn’t disappoint, his lips feel soft and perfect against yours, you can’t help but let out a pleased hum as your hands slide up his toned chest and your arms curl around his neck while his hands find your waist strong arms circling your waist as he pulls you tight against him.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mackie’s voice breaks the moment and as you both pull back and turn in his direction, you see him pump his fist into the air with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Mind your own business, Mackie!” Seb calls out to him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck giggling like a little school girl.

“It’s my business! I made it happen!” Mackie retorts and a laugh rumbles through Seb’s chest.

“I’ll send you a thank you gift card later!” he shouts back before turning to you again, kissing the side of your head.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[harryspet]

pinky promise | p.parker, b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] little!peter x little!reader, stucky x reader, stucky x peter, ddlg, ddlb, polyamory, fingering, vaginal sex, sex in little space, age regression, millionaire!stucky, hints of breeding kink

A/N: she’s finally here :)  i intended for this to have more stucky but it just didn’t work out lol 

In which Peter and you play Mommy and Daddy. 

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish  @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @nsfwsebbie​@yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows​ @write-from-the-heart​ @sad-ed-noise​ @quaksonhehe​

main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

“Pick out which one you want, baby,” Bucky whispered before walking past the little curtain, talking into his cellphone as he listened in on an important phone call. You went back and forth trying on the same skirt, one white and the other a light pink. You were starting to get a bit frustrated, knowing that you preferred when Steve just chose for you. 

You huffed, deciding that you didn’t want to look at yourself in the dressing room mirror for any longer. You decided to put them back on their individual hangers and put your clothes on. That morning, Daddy had put you in one of your “big girl” dresses. It was still light blue with ruched sleeves but, paired with your white sneakers, you looked normal enough to walk around the mall. 

When you left the dressing room, Bucky was waiting for you. His face instantly fell when he saw your expression, “What’s wrong?” He grabbed your arm softly and when you turned your face away from him, he grabbed your chin, “Which skirt did you pick?”

“I didn’t like them,” You spoke softly, your eyes slowly rising up to meet his.

“But you looked beautiful in them,” You gave him a shy look and his lips began to tug into a grin. He reached up to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“I can’t decide,” You told him, “I don’t need them anyways …”

“Nonsense. If you can’t choose, then my princess must have both. How else are you supposed to turn heads and make a good impression on the first day of classes?” Bucky easily dismissed the idea, “We’ll have a fashion show tonight and the boys can help you pick.”

You should’ve known that money would be no object to him. It was never to Steve but it seemed Bucky liked to spoil you especially. No wonder Peter was so spoiled. 

“Thank you, Papa,” As he heard your voice, the raise in pitch and the pouting lips, he knew what you needed. He kissed your forehead softly. 

“Awe, my baby doesn’t want to be a big girl anymore. Let’s get you home then, princess.”

It was true. Your date today was very nice and you loved the bond you were building with Bucky but you wanted desperately to wind down in little space. After a long day of college classes, your favorite thing was coming home to Steve but now you got to come home to three people who wanted to baby you. 

From the moment, Bucky buckled your seatbelt for you, you were already beginning to slip. He held your hand the entire ride and as the two of you walked into the luxurious brownstone in Brooklyn that you called home. 

You were quite ready to run into Steve’s arms but the first thing you saw was Steve’s arms wrapped around Peter. The younger boy was sitting in his lap, playing a video game, his eyes focused on the flat screen illuminating the living room. 

When Steve saw you, he smiled of course, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Steve was Peter’s Daddy as well but, in your moment of wanting to regress, you couldn’t help but want Steve’s full attention.  

“Hi, Papa!” Peter shouted, his eyes not leaving the Mario Kart game. He was dressed in his PJ’s, the footie ones that had all the little Darth Vader’s printed on them. 

“How was your trip? Successful, I hope,” Steve asked. 

Bucky seemed to notice your mood had a fell and that's when you felt his hand on your waist. He lifted you easily, setting you on his hip, all while holding your shopping bags. You were very grateful, resting your head on his shoulder, “Very successful but this one is in need of some tender love and care. I think we need a nice warm bath, don’t we?”

Bucky felt you nod and his lips pressed into a thin line. Steve flashed him a knowing look and Bucky gave him a look that said, “don’t worry, i got this”. The merging of your small family went much better than Steve had anticipated but you still had your moments. 

Bucky carried you upstairs into the room you shared with Peter. The walls weren’t painted white but the two sides of the room contrasted each other. Peter’s side was full of pastel blues and greens while yours was rainbow central. 

Bucky ran a bath for you and, much to your enjoyment, he joined you inside. You felt completely relaxed as he ran a wash cloth along your skin, soaping you up and massaging your skin gently. Your back against his front, Bucky could feel you slowly relaxing. 

“You know, both Daddy and Papa love you very much,” Bucky spoke into your ear, his hand dropping between your legs, slowly spreading them. 

“Mhm,” You agreed, shivers running through you despite the warm water. 

“And Peter does too …” As his fingers spread your folds, his strong hands began to rub in a circular motion.

“I know, Papa,” His pace was still gentle, every circle he made teased your sensitive bulb, and you found your hips starting to grind against his fingers. Your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the sensation. 

“That’s why I think that this weekend … you and Peter should spend some time together, while Daddy and Papa are away on business.”

Your eyes opened at that, surprise evident on your face, “Without Papa and Daddy? But we’re too little-” A small moan escaped your lips as he paid special attention to your special area. You slowly closed your eyes again. 

“Your big brother will take care of you, whatever you need, princess,” Bucky spoke softly, his fingers working methodically against your clit.

All you could do was nod, agreeing with whatever Bucky had said. You were too focused on your incoming orgasm to disagree. When you finally did release, Bucky didn’t let you go, he kept going until you were trying to pull away from his body. He wrapped his other arm around your torso, pulling you back, as he made you ride out your orgasm.

“Good girl,” He groaned into your ear, “What do you say?”

“T-Thank you, Papa,” You panted and he began to kiss the skin on your shoulder. 

+

You were still deep into little space when you awoke the next morning. After a tearful goodbye to Steve and Bucky, you decided that you’d play dress up in order to cheer yourself up. Peter explained to you that he was going to be a “big boy” and make the two of you food for your tea party. A tea party that he invited himself to after complaining that his own stuffed bear was invited before him. 

You’d chosen a cowgirl hat to go with your flouncy pink dress and set the living room up to be your venue. The coffee table was fully decorated and pillows surrounded the table for all your guests to sit. 

“Petey!” You called to the kitchen just as he entered with a plate. You told him he had to dress up if he was to join you but he refused to put on one of your dresses. Instead, you had to settle for him wearing a red cape and a crown. 

He set it out in the middle of the table, proudly smiling as he exclaimed, “Ta-da!”

You took one look and pouted, “You burnt it,” There were about ten slices of burnt toast with butter, “And where are the finger sandwiches? Cinnamon scones?”

Peter gave you a confused look as he took a seat on the pillow beside you. He was already grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing his mouth, “The toast is pretty good,” Was the great response you received. You shook your head, deciding to just pour the tea for everyone. 

“Here’s tea for you Buttons, Sassy Cat, Miss Sprinkles, Sir Horse  …. and for you Mr. Parker,” You poured his tea carefully and you smiled, noting how impressed he seemed by the simple act. You set down the pot and grabbed your own cup, “And make sure you sip it like this, with your pinky out, because we’re sophisticated.”

“I thought you were a cowgirl,” Peter chuckled a bit as you watched him try to sip his tea carefully. 

“A cowgirl princess,” You corrected him with the utmost seriousness, “I’m still sophisticated.”

“My apologies, your majesty,” He bowed his head slightly and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Your day had started with burnt toast but you had a feeling Peter was going to make it a fun day. 

+

Hours later, the living room was now shifted into a small fortress made of blankets and chairs. Toy Story was playing on the TV while you and Peter paid attention to your separate coloring books. Your most relaxing pastime was having your paci, letting it soothe you, while you colored. You stayed inside the lines unlike Peter and he’d constantly tear out his pages before starting again. 

The two of you had changed out of your costumes from early, having done a million activities since tea this morning. You were down your panties, a rainbow t-shirt, and fuzzy pink socks. You were flipping the page in your book when you felt Peter’s foot graze the bottom of yours. You didn’t think much of it, even starting to find the feeling soothing after a while. 

When you turned your head towards him, you found him watching you, “I’m bored,” He spoke suddenly, “Let’s play a video game.”

You only shook your head, turning back to your drawing, and you heard him let out a frustrated huff of air. The stroking of your foot soon turned into a tapping. Despite your attempt to ignore him, he began to inch closer to you. When you turned your head again, his face was only inches from yours and you were looking into his brown eyes, “We can play pretend some more,” That made you perk up and, despite being in the middle of drawing a castle, you set down your crayon. 

You gave him a curious look which caused him to smile, “We could play Mommy and Daddy,” As your eyebrows raised in confusion, he continued, “Well I’d be the Daddy and you’d be the Mommy of course. Don’t you know how to play?”

You slowly shook your head and Peter leaned in. You were frozen for a moment as he kissed your pacifier. You felt your cheeks heat us as he gently removed it from your mouth then pressed his soft lips against yours. You’d never shared a kiss with him while the two of you were alone and, for a moment, it felt forbidden, “We have to ask permission…”

Peter could see your enjoyment as clear as day, “But we’re just pretending. Mommies and Daddies kiss all the time,” You nodded, understanding though you still felt a bit nervous. 

“I like your kisses, Petey,” You said and you watched his face turn red. He leaned in again and you were grateful for his touch, how he moved your lips against yours, and how his tongue began to explore your mouth. You turned on your side and you felt his hands roam over your backside. 

He dipped his fingers into your panties, causing you to cry out, “Shush, we have to be quiet. We can’t wake up the baby,” He whispered to you and you instantly nodded, enjoying the sensation, “You’re soaked, Y/N.”

You could feel his member growing hard against your thigh, still confined to his underwear. You reached out to touch it and you watched him shudder at your touch, “Geez…” He groaned, “Do you want to make another baby?” Something seemed to shift in his eyes and suddenly he was more eager than before. 

“Yes,” You nodded, playing along to whatever scenario he was making up along the way, “I love being a Mommy.”

Peter couldn’t wait much longer and you let him climb on top of you as you quickly pulled down your panties. He didn’t waste time with his own underwear, pulling out his hard cock, and pressing against your warm heat. You felt his tip rub against your clit and then up and down your folds. 

You held onto the sides of his torso, gripping his striped shirt tightly as he began to sink inside of you, “Y-You’re so tight, honey,” he began to rock back and forth, looking into your eyes as he hovered over you. He gripped the pillows beneath you tightly, the motion in his hips causing your body to convulse beneath him. 

“Peter, peter, peter,” You breathed, biting down on your lip. His head dipped down, kissing your lips again and, distracted, you didn’t notice that his hand moved between your thighs. He fucked you while his hand stroked your sensitive bulb, knowing that would send you over your edge. As you tightened around him, you brought him to his climax. 

As he collapsed against you, catching his breath, you welcomed his embrace. 

“You can’t tell Papa or Daddy,” He told you, hugging you tight.

You only held out your pinky and he wrapped his around yours. 

You wouldn’t tell but you imagined the grand punishment that would ultimately lead to you cumming until you passed out. 

+

“Petey … petey,” You tapped the sleeping boy’s nose until you finally startled him awake. He was quite cute when he slept, holding tight to his teddy bear while he was tucked into his baby blue sheets. Peter pouted as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing you hovering over his face, book in hand, “I can’t sleep.”

He attempted to close his eyes again, “Count your sheep, Y/N,” He mumbled as he turned his head away from you. 

You bounced on top of him, your legs straddling him, and he awoke again, “I counted all the sheep! Like five trillion-million of them,” As your voice raised, he pressed his pointer finger to his lips. He sat up on his elbows, giving you a frustrated look. 

“Shush, you don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” You instantly shook your head, obeying his warning to calm down. Peter eyes the book in your hand, “Why can’t you read it to yourself?”

“I like the way you read,” You spoke earnestly, “And you can say all the big words.”

You knew that would work, stroking his ego. Peter loved it when everyone treated him like a big boy. He thought for only a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips and suddenly his tiredness was gone.

“C’mon, get under,” He motioned for you to move and, excitedly, you climbed under the covers with him. The twin-sized bed fit you two comfortably and you liked cuddling more than anything. As Peter pulled the covers over you, he whipped out the flashlight he kept underneath his pillow.

You rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso, as you listened to him, “Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, ’smatter of fact.”

The accents he used always made you giggle. Peter was quite the story teller but that didn’t keep you from drifting off a few minutes later. Peter kept reading, entranced by the novel, but stopped when he heard your soft snores. He turned off the light and let the book fall against his stomach. 

“G’night, Y/N.”

[sundaysundaes]

Revival

Jung Jaehyun X Reader feat. Haechan | Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU | NC-17 | 15k

Summary: When fate brought Jung Jaehyun to you, it didn’t feel like your first time meeting him. And with him, smiling at you like his heart shattering to pieces, eyes painted with longing, you knew you were connected to him somehow. You just have to find the answers before it’s too late.

Warnings: sex scenes (both with Jaehyun and Haechan), mentions of death and suicide 

For my lovely cinnamon bun Esme @rainydayswithnct​ I couldn’t think of anything else to give you but this. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I hope this will make you happy ❤️

His eyes… They remind you of the ocean after the storm. 

It’s not the color as his are dark brown, like the freshly turned earth after rain. It’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, emits sadness, yearning for something. As if he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. And as he peered into your eyes, full of depths and secrets you long to unveil, something tugs upon your heartstring. 

It’s not love at a first sight. You’ve experienced that before with Lee Donghyuck, the lover whom you share frantic kisses and desperate touches with. But it’s something more intense, something you can’t even begin to fathom, something you wish you understand.

The second your eyes are locked to each other, it’s like you’re electrocuted, starting from the tip of your hair down to your toes.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, your voice sounds like you haven’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his chin from where it made contact with your head earlier. “I was looking for a book so I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there.”

The man, young enough to be around your age with a gaze wiser than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. There’s pain that fleets through his eyes, a feeling that he quickly hides with a smile too bright to be genuinely coming from the heart. When he speaks, his voice is both rich and soft, deep and tender. “No, it was my fault.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t apologize.”

You want to reach out to him, want to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart, want to ask him whether you’ve said too much or too less. But he’s nothing but a stranger and you don’t want to step out of the line. “Were you looking for a book?”

“Yes, umm…” He points his finger towards a book hidden in the shelf behind you. “That one.”

You follow his direction, smiling when you read the title written on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”

“Oh, then it’s fine,” he says, pushing the book back to you after you handed it to him. “You can take it.”

“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”

“Me too. So—”

“I insist.” You press the book to his chest, looking up at him. He looms before you, standing 180 centimeters tall that you have to tilt your head up to match his line of vision. You catch a sniff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. His eyelashes are long, face framed by strong jawlines, brunette locks falling over his forehead. When his lips curve up, pretty dimples start to form in his cheeks. He looks like a painting, a thought runs through your mind, one that you hastily dismiss. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” you add.

His eyes widen, just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you.”

You barely catch his words. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I’m… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous which you find rather endearing. “I mean, It’s hard to find someone who has a similar taste like mine.”

Your heart convulses. You know how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more. Your boyfriend’s name pops in your head but your lips betray you before your brain can form a warning. “Well, I do have a peculiar taste when it comes to books,” you answer with a smile. “Sure, as long as you tell me your name.”

“Right, sorry.” You love the sound he makes when he chuckles, and you love it more when it echoes louder in your ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Jaehyun.”

You expect it to be soft just like the way he’s gazing at you, but his palm feels calloused against your own. When you reply to him with your name, he seems stunned but doesn’t stay still for long. Your name flows out of his mouth so naturally, as if he has been calling you for years, like a soulmate to another. It feels like electricity is running through your veins once more, something that you’ve never experienced before.

It takes around ten minutes to walk from the library to the nearest coffee shop and by then, you’ve caught on the little gestures he makes: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. You’ve become aware of his passion and the love he has for books, so strong that it can only be matched by your own. You’ve learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.

“Have you thought about what kind of story you’re planning to write?” You question as you slide your cup closer with hot, black coffee shimmering inside. Before you take a sip, Jaehyun drags a sugar bowl toward your direction. “What?”

“It’s too bitter for you.”

“You think I can’t handle my coffee?”

“It’s not that.” He clears his throat and you wonder what is it that he’s trying to hide. “The coffees here are always too bitter.”

“Yeah?” You taunt him, smirking. “Well, watch me.” You take a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits your tongue but you act unfazed. Smacking your lips, you say, “See? I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“No. Give me the damn sugar.” 

It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s little laughter becomes one of your most favorite sounds in the world. 

“I’m planning to write a romance novel,” he responds to your earlier question.

“Romance, huh? To be honest, I see you more as someone who writes detective stories. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”

“Like what?”

He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”

“Cheapskate.” You purse your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”

“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end.”

“No,” you drawl out. “What happens to them? You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me about it.”

“Of course, I can.” There’s a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “I’m the author.”

“And a jerk too, apparently.” You’re worried you might go too far with your joke but Jaehyun still peers at you with that warm, longing eyes that make you curl your toes.

“Fine, then,” he succumbs. “Since you insist, I’ll give you a hint later. But you’ll have to imagine the rest.”

“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” You raise an eyebrow, teasing him. “I happen to have a very creative imagination.”

“I promise you I won’t. I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”

“Huh, interesting.” You pretend like you’re rethinking your decision, just to get him a little bit hopeful and nervous by it. “Deal, why not.” Your coffee has grown slightly cold but the sugary taste of it serves as an addiction. “So, does that mean we’ll see each other again?”

“Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book. So, hopefully, yes.” You both exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles with you breaking away first, bringing your focus back to your coffee. “I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Jaehyun questions, “Is today your first time visiting?”

“No. I’ve been visiting it almost every day for the last… two weeks, I think? It’s near my workplace so I usually drop by after work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.” You swirl your spoon, watching the little whirlpool you create inside your cup. “Besides, I can’t read at home.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s…” You awkwardly laugh, waving one hand in the air. “I have a boyfriend who is younger than me and he’s a pretty lively person. It’s hard to focus on your book when someone keeps pulling you into conversations.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for you to notice before he starts again. “Isn’t it better to have someone like that rather than to be alone, though?” He counters, the smile on his lips never falter but the one in his eyes does.

“I…” It’s not apparent but you can sense it, the painful look on his face. It feels like you just said something that hurt him so badly that you want to apologize about it. “Yeah… I guess so…”

Maybe he notices you noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a wider smile that does reach his eyes this time. “Why do you choose this library?” He diverts the topic. “There are a lot of new ones in town, bigger ones too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You nod, sighing. “Okay, don’t laugh, but honestly? It just feels somewhat nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, it felt like I’d been spending all my life there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Jaehyun stays quiet that you have to lift your head to understand what goes through his head. His face is pensive, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Jaehyun?”

He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping your mouth, his shoulders tense, and only after what feels like hours, he finally has the strength to drag his eyes away from yours, bringing them down to see his interlaced fingers lying on the table. 

“It’s just closer to my place.”

***

“Hey, babe.” Donghyuck chirps with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, his fingers running through the keyboards, eyes locked to his computer screen. He can tell that it’s you who just slipped through the front door by the sound of your footsteps. “You’re late. Did you get the puddings I asked you?”

“They’re in the fridge.” You take off your coat and unwrap your scarf from your neck before you stroll toward the living room. You can’t remember what or who initiated it but it has been almost six months since he started living in your apartment. You remember how he used to spend just one night at your place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for your touch. Before you knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel on the bed, his toothbrush on your sink—and he could be spending the entire week at your place, only moving once to his apartment when he ran out of comic books to read. It just came so naturally that you didn’t notice at first but by the time you did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table.

Being with Donghyuck was easy, casual, and he gave you more reasons to laugh over little things more than anyone else. During the first two months, you acted like newlyweds with him peppering kisses on your face whenever you arrived home from work. Unlike you, Donghyuck is a freelancer and he does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for you—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, sometimes even doing your laundry when he felt he’d been neglecting you. Whenever you arrived late, he would’ve always had something prepared for you, beaming at you with a contagious grin while chiming, “Finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you and I’m starving. Today’s dish is your favorite so let’s eat!”

But things are bound to change and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss you good night before bed and you treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what you were wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet you with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.

It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Donghyuck is still yours as much as you are his.

It’s fine.

“I met someone today,” you say, reaching out to stroke his dark hair. It’s so soft and fluffy like a dog’s fur and you find it calming just to card your fingers through them. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into your touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. 

“A man?”

“Yep.”

“Is he hot?”

“Well, he’s not ugly.”

“Then don’t get too close to him.”

Donghyuck is the jealous type, he’s always been—sometimes even a bit possessive but it makes you happy to know there’s someone out there who cares about you so much he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else. But not today. Today, his words feel empty. You can tell that he doesn’t mean any of them. He just says them as a joke, maybe out of habit, but certainly not a warning.

“What will we be having for dinner?” You ask him when he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen as his character just got shot dead.

“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly in to the air before he turns around, finally recognizing your presence. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”

“You didn’t wait for me?”

“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you too. It’s probably cold now but you can heat it up.”

“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.”

“I’d love to do that but,” he smiles apologetically, his fingers meeting the keyboards once more. “I’m busy, babe. There’s an event going on and Jeno literally won’t let me take a break. Look, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”

You have stopped believing in his promises, or at least, don’t allow yourself to believe. You’ve learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.

You smile back, push his hair away so you can land a kiss on his temple. And no matter how much your bottled-up feelings are about to burst, you don’t say a word.

Because you know silence is what keeps your relationship alive.

***

That night, Jaehyun appeared in your dream.

He had a different hairstyle, a little bit shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way—a white buttoned-up shirt under a brown blazer that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to. Nevertheless, he looked just as strikingly handsome as he was in real life.

He took off his fedora hat, bowing when his eyes met yours as he entered the library—the one that you always visit. “You look beautiful today,” he said, smiling like he always has from the first time you saw him but it felt different in the dream. His smile was timid and shy, eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with yours, but they were honest. The way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of you, painted with both desire and affection.

Your body went autopilot, words flowing from your mouth before you could even process the situation. It was like you were residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Are you saying I didn’t look beautiful yesterday?”

“No, that’s not—” At the sight of you covering your smile behind your hand, he sighed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m sorry. Which book would you like to read today?”

“Will you choose one for me?”

“Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you.” He smiled a tad wider, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips, and you could feel your lips curving to mirror his. 

“Well then,” you said, reaching toward a bookshelf. “Why don’t we start with this?”

It ended without you knowing what book it was nor the line between your dream and reality. They stand out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines you’d exchanged with him—that it takes you a few good minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not a memory.

You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

***

The library is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need to be repainted. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is comforting. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and you’re consoled by the tranquility. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep you company.

And Jaehyun.

You meet him every day when the sun is an hour away from setting. You don’t chat for long, spending most of your hour reading your chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him scribbling stuff down on his notebook.

“Why don’t you use a laptop?”

“Not fond of it. I feel more like a writer this way,” Jaehyun responds, re-reading the words he just wrote on paper. When he notices you’re giggling, he frowns. “What?”

“You’re like my dad.”

“Then I’m sure your dad is a very smart, tech-savvy man.”

“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do stuff more traditionally.” You sink further into your chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad and I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going?”

“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat mischievous. “Inspired by someone.”

“You’re not talking about me, are you?”

Jaehyun drags his pen over his note. “Character A begins to question her—”

“Shut up!”

The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like he’s becoming a mystery you can’t solve. You’re closer to him, closer than any of your friends, but you know there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To you, Jaehyun, with his eyes that always seem like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears, still seems like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows you, you’d gladly collect every piece of him to be able to perceive him better.

***

Jaehyun visited you in another dream.

This time, you were walking next to him beside a beautiful pond in a backyard that seemed familiar enough to be your own. Both of you were dressed in traditional clothing and you wondered whether a ceremony just occurred.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding your hand.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you heard yourself mumble, body moving beyond your control. “I just feel like we’re moving too fast. We just turned twenty.”

“Are you having doubts?” He intertwined your fingers better and you noticed how his were shaking slightly. “About me?”

“Of course not.” You turned around, reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “Jaehyun, this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I want to be with you, there’s no doubt about it. I’m just thinking about our future, that’s all. What will we do with our jobs? Our money? What will we do when we have kids—”

“It’s just like you to overthink about stuff,” he tittered, “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”

That earned him a pout. “I’m not overthinking about stuff. I’m planning them.”

“Of course, my bad.” He kissed your inner palm once before he let you frame his face again, his hand pressing against the back of your smaller one. “Thank you.”

You frowned. “For what?”

“For everything. For caring, for worrying.” Jaehyun smiled so gently, it was almost heartbreaking. “For being with me. Perhaps it’s immature for me to say this, but whatever future that lies ahead of us, I’m sure it’s filled with nothing but joy as long as we’re together.”

“That is such an embarrassing line to say.” You giggled and the blush that bloomed on his face was instant and striking but before he could say a word, you pulled him into your embrace, resting your cheek against his chest. “As long as we’re together, huh?” You repeated quietly. “Then will you promise you’ll stay with me forever?”

“I promise.” Jaehyun’s smile was pressing against your hairline. “Not even death can separate us.”

You wake up with a cold sweat, your heart thrumming so loudly, it makes you feel nauseous. Donghyuck shifts around in bed at the sound of you gasping for air, sleepily asking what’s wrong as he rubs his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you tremulously utter, a hand on your chest as if it could do something to steady your racing heart. “Go back to sleep.”

Donghyuck sends you another look with eyes barely opened. “Come here.” He tugs you closer to his chest, his nose grazing the crook of your neck. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmurs drowsily against your skin, and in a matter of seconds, he drifts back to sleep.

“Yeah…” You swallow your breath, Jaehyun’s name resting on the tip of your tongue. “Just a nightmare…”

One that feels too real.

***

Weeks turn into months, and what started as curiosity becomes affection. 

Reading books has turned into nothing but an excuse for both of you to spend time together. What started as stealing secret glances at each other has morphed into an exchange of secret whispers in a secluded corner. The questions have become more personal too, and you find yourself talking about childhood memories and nonsensical ideas that show up in your thoughts, even the ones you have never shared with anyone else, not even to Donghyuck who lends his arm for you at night.

It’s only the dreams that you keep quiet about, as they always revolve around him since the first day you met Jaehyun. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s a way of your subconscious trying to tell you that you have feelings for him—feelings that aren’t meant to be shared with friends—as the dreams tend to play romantically. And you can’t deny that you do feel something about him.

It’s hard not to feel anything when Jaehyun has given you everything you’ve ever asked from a person. From a friend. From a lover.

But it’s not love. Definitely not love. At least not in the way you know of. In your mind, love is in the form of hugs you share with Donghyuck, not in the way Jaehyun lands his eyes on yours. Love is—

Your head swirls. What is love?

The concept of love is so complex that even if you know about it, you’re not sure if you understand it enough to experience it. You have never talked about love, not with your boyfriend, not with yourself. Is it something that you’ve already felt once? Are you in love with Donghyuck—the man you’ve spent the last two years together?

What does he think of me? You start to lose focus, sinking into your thoughts and the soft music playing in the background feels like a lullaby. Does Hyuck love me?

Before long, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fall asleep with your arms folded on the table, cheek pressing against them.

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming of a hand, so warm and tender as it brushes stray hairs from your temple. You’re dreaming of a voice, so familiar to your ears, so quiet and heartbroken as it resonates in whispers. You’re dreaming of a pair of lips, so soft and light as they press against your strands.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember me. It’s okay, so please…” Slender fingers curl around your wrist, bringing it to frame a face with skin as soft as porcelain. “Just come back to me…”

You wake up. 

Jaehyun is sitting on the other side of the table, pen tapping against his lips as he reads back his work, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He notices the little shift in your movement, immediately beaming at you with his signature smile. “Hey there, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes before sitting straight on your seat, your hair’s astray. “What—How did I—” A coat is slipping through your shoulders and you catch it before it meets the ground. It’s Jaehyun’s. “Umm—t-thanks,” you mumble, handing it back to him.

“Sure,” he responds. “You were shivering so…”

“Oh… Right.” You certainly don’t feel cold now especially when your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “W-what time is it?”

“Around eight. The place’s about to close.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, grinning at your behavior. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve. My boyfriend's gonna interrogate me for this.” You sigh, trying to gather back every bit of your strength and dignity. “Why are you still here?”

He raises an eyebrow at that, acting offended. “You don’t actually think that I’m the type of guy who leaves pretty girls sleeping defenselessly in public, do you?”

The word ‘pretty’ comes so effortlessly from his mouth that you’re sure he doesn’t mean it to mean something more. “There’s literally no one else around here but the staff besides us.”

“Which should be the more reason why I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, yes, how chivalrous of you. Thank you, oh my mighty prince. How can I return the favor?”

“By coming here again tomorrow?”

The way his eyes shine with excitement at the thought of seeing you again makes your heart flutter. “I don’t think you need to ask,” you grin.

***

Jaehyun knows you. He knows you too well. But it’s not the things that can be seen, it’s the things that you can only know by spending time together. Jaehyun knows the type of music you listen to, knows that whenever it gets too cold, you’ll start craving a cup of hot chocolate. 

It’s strange, the fact that Jaehyun, a stranger you just befriended, pays attention with all his heart, even at the words that accidentally slipped off your tongue as if you’re the only person who matters in the world, while Donghyuck, your boyfriend, barely bats an eyelash when you share an important aspect of your life. It feels strange at first, but now, it sickens you.

“What’s this?” You ask, examining a CD case he just hands over. “Are you giving me a mix-tape?” It doesn’t have a cover, just a note painted with the words: When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other. You have your eyebrow raised. “A quote by Rob Sheffield?”

“It’s a hint for my story. As promised.” He takes a seat in front of you. “Have you worked on it?”

“When you’re only giving me this quote as a hint and nothing more, it’s kinda hard to come up with something tragic for the ending.”

“I thought you had a very creative imagination.”

You throw a playful glare and he titters a little bit in response. “Is there any other reason why you’re giving me this?”

“Just something to keep you company.” He smiles. He always smiles, but more with his eyes than his lips. Then he slides down another thing—a book this time—wrapped with a red ribbon. “As you read this.”

It’s an old book written by your favorite author, one that you haven’t been able to read because it’s so rare to find. “How do you—” You’re lost for words. You have never told him about this. You’ve mentioned your favorite books but none from this author as it is something personal that you prefer to keep to yourself, not wanting others to judge you for your distinctive taste.

“It’s written by my favorite author,” he elaborates, “I just thought you’d like it too since we have similar taste.”

There’s something he’s not telling you, you can sense that. But if he’s not ready to provide the words, you won’t take them away by force.

“Thank you.” You hug the book to your chest. Somehow, the air feels like spring, like cherry blossoms blooming for the first time after being frozen for so long. “I’ll cherish this.”

“It’s just a book, don’t be dramatic,” he chuckles but happiness is written all over his face, mirroring yours. Jaehyun’s eyes soften and he appears so fragile, like a porcelain doll. So beautiful and vulnerable.

The songs he has compiled for you seem like they’re taken straight out of your playlist. Even for the songs you’ve never listened to before, they click right in. You’re so caught by the moment, drowned deep in the lyrics and the music that resonates from your speakers, that you don’t hear the sounds of your boyfriend stepping into the room.

“I thought I heard noises. What are you listening to?” Donghyuck asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the empty CD case you’ve been holding on your lap.

“A friend gave me,” you answer. You notice the way his eyes dart to the handwritten note and it makes you nervous as if you’re doing something wrong behind his back, something forbidden.

“What a thoughtful friend,” he comments nonchalantly, albeit a little bit cold. You mask your anxiety with a chuckle. “Maybe you can tell your friend that there’s this thing called Spotify nowadays. Literally no one listens to CDs anymore.”

Your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, and maybe it’s better to leave things the way it is but you can’t stop yourself from bitterly saying, “I happen to like listening to CDs. It makes me feel nostalgic.”

“You and your nostalgia.” Donghyuck snorts, completely missed the annoyed tone in your voice. He places a peck on the top of your head. “Well, I’m hungry. What do you want to have for dinner? I’ll cook."

“There’s a new Chinese restaurant opening just a block away,” Jaehyun said on a Sunday evening when you two were about to part ways. “They got amazing reviews. Do you have some time to spare? I know how much you love Chinese food.”

“I never told you I loved Chinese food.”

“Everybody loves Chinese food, it’s not that hard to guess.”

“Fine. But if you can guess what I’m about to order, I’ll start filing a restraining order against you, assuming you’re a stalker.”

“Well, I gotta be careful not to get caught then.”

“Baby?” Donghyuck snaps you out of your reverie. “I’m asking what you wanna have for dinner.”

“Umm…” You push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, somewhat jittery. “Chinese food?”

He frowns upon your words. “I didn’t know you liked Chinese food.”

“I-it’s just something I haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Well, I’m going to cook you something better.” He grins, boyish and ignorant. “How about your favorite Spaghetti Aglio e Olio by Chef Lee Donghyuck?”

You smile, weak but hopefully not empty. “That would be nice.”

***

“You’re okay?” Jaehyun asks the second you take a seat in front of him. He seems so concerned that it surprises you. You haven’t realized you look that troubled.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a smile. “Just… You know, boyfriend stuff.”

You can tell how Jaehyun is holding back his words from how tightly he keeps his lips pressed together. He’s always considerate like that, always detecting every little thing that you try to hide but never pressures you to speak, especially when it comes to your relationship. Jaehyun respects you, respects the fact that you are already involved with someone that he never tries to get you to look in his direction. Though his eyes often betray him, Jaehyun tries his best to maintain his distance. He never flirts, never praises you with romantic words, never steps out of line.

And you’re thankful for that because deep down you know, once he does, it will be hard to untangle yourself from his grasp.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Then...” Jaehyun closes his book, leaning closer. His dimples are so prominent when he grins, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “How about we go try out some dumplings?”

It’s so sudden and random but once the idea sinks in, there’s only one thing you want to say. “Take me away, Jaehyun.”

It’s not about the food. It’s not about ignoring your problems, or the loneliness that’s drowning you a little bit more every day. It’s about enjoying the little things with someone who understands you, someone who doesn’t need to hold your hand to keep you warm. 

Someone who can finally let you breathe.

***

“I can’t believe it’s closed early,” you whine after you read the sign that’s strapped to the library’s front door. “And I was so excited to read the next chapter too.”

“What’s the book?” Jaehyun asks, adjusting the strap of his bag that hangs low on his shoulder.

“No Longer Human.”

“By Osamu Dazai?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got a copy of that.”

“What, really?” The spark of glee that glimmer in your eyes catches him by surprise but he hides it behind a soft smile. “Can I borrow it? It’s such an old book, I can’t even find the e-book version of it.”

“Sure. Would you like to come over to my place?” The line makes your breath hitched in your throat and Jaehyun recognizes the faint blush that spreads on your cheeks. Mirroring your reaction, he hastily clears his throat, rubbing his nape as his face turns scarlet. “Or, uhh, I can just hand it over to you tomorrow.”

“No, it’s—” As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you notice your fingers are shaking. “I have—I’ve got time to spare. You have coffee at your place, right?”

His shoulders begin to relax and with a soft gaze, he reciprocates with an even tender smile. “If you’re alright with instant coffees.”

“Then lead the way.”

Jaehyun has this mature persona around him, like a caring big brother that calms you down but the second you arrive in his hallway, he fumbles with his words, his key slipping out of his fingers during his first try, and his nervousness starts to rub off on you.

It makes you wonder whether he’s feeling like he’s crossing the line, just as much as you are with Donghyuck’s name sitting on the front of your mind.

“Come in,” he invites, opening the door but keeping his eyes anywhere else but yours. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

His apartment smells just like him and it makes it hard for you to focus on anything else. But the second you’re able to sort that thought away, you realize something. He keeps his place minimalist and neat, just like the way he dresses and writes. Everything is organized properly with two paintings decorating his walls—ones that remind you of your grandmother’s house. “You really do have an old soul,” you playfully comment and he scrunches his nose at you in return.

It feels more familiar to step into Jaehyun’s apartment than your own because he has everything that you wanted and more. All the books sitting on his shelf, his collection of CDs, even the potpourri he has on his coffee table has the same scent with the one you’re planning to buy. 

“I know you said we have similar taste, but this…” You scan his bookshelf in awe, noticing how it almost covers his entire wall from how huge it is. He owns hundreds of books and everything is arranged alphabetically. “This is just taking it to another level. Are you sure you’re not my stalker?”

He simpers. “If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you here. Too much evidence.”

“Or maybe you’re just planning to keep me here with you forever.” When he doesn’t reply, you realize how wrong that line just sounded. “I’m sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Jaehyun waves you off, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

The tension gradually starts to ease by the time you have a book in your lap, your eyes running from one passage to another. Sitting next to you, Jaehyun has his pen glued to his notepad again, his brown hair nearly looks golden as the sunset illuminates his face with such a warm, beautiful glow.

He really does look like a painting, you admire as you steal glances at him from behind your book. The perfect shape of his nose, his smooth skin, the way he’s so focused on his story, drowned inside his imagination… Maybe you’re being carried away, taken by his beauty, that your mouth begins to produce the words without thinking.

“Why do you look so sad?” 

Jaehyun’s pen nearly slips from his fingertips. “What?”

“Sometimes you just look... so lonely and hurt,” you clarify although you’re growing more conscious of the way you’re crossing the line. “It feels like you’re forcing yourself to smile when you look at me...”

Jaehyun loses the ability to speak, even just blinking his eyes already seems like a stretch. But he sees something, the genuine curiosity and concern written in your eyes, that makes him avert his gaze away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarks, forcing himself to chuckle and you know that’s he’s showing you that smile again, even when you can barely make out his features.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re just tired of him keeping secrets to himself when you’re sure they concern you. Maybe you’re just sick of seeing him like he’s on the verge of breaking apart without knowing the cause. Or perhaps it’s just your selfish way of saying, “I want you to smile, truly smile, because of me and no one else.”

But you find yourself reaching out a hand, your fingertips meeting the warm skin of his cheek, wanting him to turn his face around so you can see his expression. Jaehyun jolts, your name tumbles down his lips abruptly, his hand clamping against your wrist. “What are you doing?” His eyes are shaking as they bore deep into yours but yours are steady. Your eyes, your voice, your fingertips. They’ve never been this steady.

This is the first time you’ve been this close to him, to know how long his eyelashes really are, the way they flutter against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth, and the beauty mark on his pale skin. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever witnessed in person.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suddenly touch you like that.” You try to retract your hand, but he keeps his fingers around your wrist, hand hanging mid-air as he swallows his breath. Seeing him nervous makes you nervous. “Jaehyun, I won’t force you to say anything you don’t want to say, but…” You haven’t realized that you’ve been speaking in whispers, but Jaehyun has and his eyes soften just as much as yours do. “Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

Whether it’s from your words or the tenderness in your voice, you’re not sure, but Jaehyun releases your hand only so he can cup your cheek. He murmurs your name, so soft as if he’s telling a secret that he’s been dying to say. He leans forward, his breath is now fanning your cheek, and he’s so close, so close, and your eyes begin to shut when his lips faintly graze against yours—

The ringing sound of your phone blares through the room. 

Your entire movement stops but your heart runs a thousand miles per hour. It takes a good few seconds to come back to reality, and when you do, you’re not graceful at it. “Umm—” You glance away, breaking free from his touch. Your fingers are trembling hard when they retrieve your phone from the table. It has stopped ringing and a notification appears on your screen. The sight of your boyfriend’s name makes you feel like the floor is crumbling underneath you. “Sorry, it’s Donghyuck—I have to—It’s getting late, he must be looking for me.” Too embarrassed to see his face, you quickly gather your belongings into your arms, not even spending a few seconds to wear your coat back. “Thank you for inviting me. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” And you don’t wait for an answer, only forcing yourself to laugh which comes out as strained and pitchy, before you head toward the front door.

“Wait.” Jaehyun has his right hand pressing against the back of the door, shutting it close before you have the chance to let yourself out. You’re trapped between the door and his chest, making it harder for you to breathe. “Can you look at me?” He firmly orders but promptly adds a soft, “Please,” when you’re not brave enough to respond to him. 

You turn around, hugging your purse and your coat to your chest, facing him but not meeting his eyes. You can feel him analyzing your expression, feel how heavy his gaze is on your face. He bends down slightly, hand reaching out to frame your face like before but you flinch, eyes shutting tightly before he can make any contact.

You can’t see the look on his face as you are too frightened to do so, but you can tell how much you hurt him by the sound of his voice. “You forgot your book,” he states, handing a copy of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human.

“O-oh, right.” You sound so nervous, so afraid, and you don’t know why. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to read at home anyway—”

“I want you to have it.” It’s the first time he loses the warmth in his voice when he speaks and if you’re not too clouded by your thoughts, if you weren’t so selfish, you would’ve tried your best to fix the situation. But not right now. Right now, you just want to disappear. You want to run back home, run into Donghyuck’s arms like how you’re supposed to be. 

Because this is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not when you have another man waiting for your return.

You take the book from his hand, noticing how your fingers brush his and how they stay that way for a little too long, but Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes and you’re still not sure why you’re on the verge of crying.

“Don’t be. It was my fault.” He notices your emotions, he always does, and it breaks you apart to know how much you’re breaking him right now. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Nothing happened,” you convince him, shaking your head and will your tears to go away before they fall down your cheeks. “We didn’t do anything.”

Jaehyun’s fingers curls, nails sinking into his palms as he tries his best to mask what he’s feeling. “You’re right,” he quietly repeats, “Nothing happened.”

***

“Where have you been?”

Your keys slip through your fingers at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and you’re petrified, millions of thoughts running through your head as you try to come up with an excuse.

But why? Why do you have to come up with an excuse? “Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.” Isn’t that what you said?

“Babe?”

You jump back a couple of steps when Donghyuck walks into your personal space with a frown breaking on his temple. He furrows his eyebrows deeper at your reaction. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”

“Yeah, umm—” You adjust the collar of your turtleneck shirt, suddenly feeling like you’re being choked. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I just had a long day at work.”

“Why didn’t you text me? I could’ve swung by to pick you up.”

You force yourself to smile at his offer. “Thank you. It’s okay, really. Were you waiting for me?”

“Well yeah, I wanted to eat dinner together. It’s been a while since we did that and I wanted to make it up to you.” He cutely pouts and you’re reminded of the reason why you’re so trapped under his spell. “Text me next time when you’re about to come home late so I don’t have to wait for you.”

There it is. It strikes again. The feeling of loneliness. Curling your fingers at the hem of your shirt, you weakly reply with, “I’m sorry.”

Because out of the millions of thoughts that run through your head, that’s the only thing you have the bravery to say out loud.

***

“Hyuck?” You call out, carding your fingers through his soft locks. Donghyuck has his head on your lap with his legs sprawled out, taking most of the couch. His eyes are glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch, thumb moving frantically to land a new high score. “I think we need to talk.”

Donghyuck doesn't respond right away. After a few relentless movements of his thumbs, he shouts, “Fuck, not again! Goddamn, I gotta restart all over again.” You can see him renewing the game, picking a different character. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just…” You’re nervous, feeling more so than the pain that swells in your chest from not being taken seriously. “It feels like we haven’t been spending time with each other. Properly, I mean.”

“We’re spending time together now, aren’t we?” He hisses when his character takes another damage from his opponent. “What, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

I want us to talk. I want us to laugh. I want us to listen to each other like we used to. “I’m not in the mood for movies right now.”

After taking another shot, Donghyuck groans. “Fuck this stupid game,” he grumbles, throwing his device to the coffee table. “You know what’s annoying? The fact that I could land a perfect high score when I was drunk as fuck but now, I can’t even get into top three!”

Your patience is growing thin, but even then, you can’t find the strength to confront him properly. “Hyuck…”

“Right, sorry.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his head as he sits straight up, facing you properly. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

You meet his gaze and you realize how rarely you stand in this position, with him looking directly at your face with concern in his eyes. Now that he’s paying you full attention, your vocabulary turns into a blank slate. Your lips are parted but your voice is nowhere to be found, as it is hidden by the fear of speaking beyond control once you let your emotions run loose. 

“I…” You begin, clearing your throat to sound less anxious. “Are you happy with me?”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Of course, I’m happy. What are you talking about? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, it’s…” Your hands lay rigid on your lap, fingers tightening around each other. You weakly smile. “Nothing. I guess I just had some weird thoughts popping in my head.”

“Look, I promise you I’ll do the laundry this weekend,” he confidently convinces you, as if that was the problem you’re currently facing. He pokes you on the nose, grinning boyishly. “Stop acting so weird, you’re creeping me out. What else are you thinking about? If it’s sex you want, you just gotta ask. You know I’m down with it anytime you want.”

“Yeah, of course…” You can force yourself to laugh but every sound you make feels like a knife piercing against your heart. “Sorry, I was just being stupid. You can ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore you, how can I do that? Not when you’re this cute.” He giggles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But his affection does not make the butterflies in your stomach come alive. It makes hot tears threatening to appear in your eyes. “I like your sweater,” Donghyuck coos, “Is it new?”

No, this is my third time wearing it in front of you. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed.”

“I always notice everything about you.” He ruffles your hair as he stands up, stretching out his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? ‘Cause I’m dead tired.”

“No. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, babe.” He bends his head down to kiss you fully on the mouth, tongue running along your lower lip just to tease like usual. When he pulls away, he has his juvenile grin intact. “Well, I’m going to bed. If I wake up late tomorrow, you can re-heat the food. I’ve stored everything in the fridge.”

Donghyuck disappears behind the door before you can finish saying good night.

***

The sun’s about to set… He must have been there already.

It has been two days since you last saw Jaehyun. You know you’re not being fair avoiding him like this, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re not brave enough to face him after that. Have you been giving him signs? Was it your fault, was it the expression you made, was it the words you spoke, that made him lean towards you, asking for a kiss that you were more than eager to give?

“Hey, babe,” Lee Donghyuck chirps against your ear, arms finding their way to circle your waist, pulling you to his lap. “What are you doing?”

You’re successful at hiding your surprise but knowing it’s Donghyuck, anything will probably pass by without him realizing. Even when you have spent the last fifteen minutes reading the same paragraph in your book over and over again as your thoughts drift somewhere else. 

You have a boyfriend and it’s not Jaehyun. Donghyuck is everything to you now, isn’t he? Yet, if you hadn’t been interrupted by that phone call, you were sure you would’ve yielded to Jaehyun’s touch.

“Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.”

You’re disgusted with yourself.

You throw a glance to the side, your nose nearly brushing his as Donghyuck settles his chin on your shoulder. Unlike Jaehyun who has a fresh, masculine scent, Donghyuck smells like summer and lilacs under the sun. It’s comforting and sweet, yet even after two years, it stills feels somewhat unfamiliar to you.

“Reading a book.” You shiver when he pushes your hair away, placing a lazy wet kiss on your nape, lips parted and tongue pressing against the skin. “Hyuck…”

“It’s okay, keep reading.” Whenever his mouth makes contact with your skin, he adds a hum or a moan to make sure you know that despite his words, he’s not giving you the chance to continue. “You want us to spend more time together, don’t you?”

You deeply exhale, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, sensitive skin being caressed but none of his touches pumps desire through your veins. Since when did I stop wanting him this way? You wonder, feeling guilty when Jaehyun’s face appears in the corner of your mind once more.

“Baby,” Donghyuck murmurs seductively against the skin, thin fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your navel. “Hasn’t it been a while since we last did it?”

“It’s only been a week.”

“And that’s a week too long. I want you.” He strokes your cheek, guiding you to meet his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a rhetorical question since you both know you can’t say no when he demands something from you. “Of course.”

Donghyuck’s lips still taste the same, feel the same as they suck bruises on your delicate skin but the sparks are no longer there. He used to make you squirm with excitement, body begging under temptation. Sex used to be an adventure, a way for him to make you lose your mind, to have you gasping his name between moans, nails clawing against his back, thighs trembling under his fingertips.

Right now, sex is just… another glue to keep your relationship in place.

Clothes are discarded on the floor, and Donghyuck is sitting with you on his lap, his spine pressed against the couch, nails digging into your hips as he brings you down to take him inch-by-inch. He hisses when he feels you engulfing him with your warmth, head thrown back with lips parted in a blissful moan.

“No matter how much we’ve done it,” he chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “I can never get enough of the way you’re taking me so well, baby.” Donghyuck is a very passionate lover and his lips love to praise, both by words and kisses. The way he calls your name, the way he whispers, “You feel so good around me,” often makes you wonder whether there would be any other man who will desire you this much. But is it love? Does he love you? 

Do you love him? 

You’re not sure. You don’t know yet. But you know he plays a huge part in your life. Donghyuck once added a spectrum of colors into your previously dull, monochromatic life. You care about him, think about him more than you should, even putting his needs and priorities above yours.

If that’s not love, then what is it?

“Donghyuck…” You flinch when he rocks his hips up, a bit too rough and forceful as he’s getting impatient with the pace you’re going. “I—I think I love you.”

It surprises you that these words can leave your lips but you don’t regret it. It’s the right thing to do, saying these words to him. It’s only natural after the amount of time you’ve spent with him. It’s a way to bridge the gap between you and him, to reignite the flame, to bring laughter back into your life. 

To fix the mistake you just made two days ago.

But maybe his thoughts are too clouded with lust, maybe your words are too quiet for him to hear, or maybe you haven’t said the words at all and everything is just playing inside your imagination but no matter what the reason is, Donghyuck doesn’t answer. The words that escape his lips are obscene, a sign that he’s about to finish and you let him pull you closer to his chest, let him sink his face in the crook of your neck, let him groan and release everything inside because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Did you get to come?” He asks, breathless and flushed when he’s finished. His bangs are glued to his temple, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and when he strokes your cheekbone with his fingers, they tremble from the pleasure that washed through his body.

“Yes.” You didn’t. You haven’t in a while. It’s not because you didn’t enjoy it. Donghyuck still moved in the way you wanted him to—in the way that used to untie the knots in your stomach, almost making you cry from how good it was. But you’ve begun to realize that there was a part of you missing and Donghyuck isn’t the right piece to complete the puzzle. 

Jaehyun.

The dread of having another man’s name running through your head is so much, it almost makes you vomit your insides. 

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I said I love you.”

There’s no going around it this time. You’ve said the words, you’ve pronounced them loud and clear but when Donghyuck still doesn’t say anything, you wish the earth could swallow you whole. “Can you… say something, please…?”

“Baby,” he sighs, fingers framing your face so gently, it hurts you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t love you but—”

You’re stunned, shocked to your core at the incoming rejection but… that’s it.

You don’t feel anything. How can you not feel anything? You don’t feel hurt, you’re not disappointed, you’re just…

Relieved.

“Baby, are you listening?” Donghyuck calls again, grabbing you by your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “I like you. I really do like you. I like you so much but love is such a big word and for me to be committed that way is just… I don’t know, I haven’t figured out my feelings yet. I don’t even understand what love is. I just—I need more time.”

You’re lost for words. How can you tell him? How can you say that you’re so relieved he doesn’t love you back? How can you tell him that his action does not break you apart, but only makes you realize that you’ve just been forcing yourself to stay with him because it feels like it’s the right thing to do?

What if you’re just staying with him because you’re so afraid of being alone, not knowing that loneliness is the only thing he can offer you in return?

“I understand,” you quietly reply, climbing off his lap. Your knees wobble slightly under your weight as your mind travels somewhere else. You gather your clothes into your arms, placing them back on your body.

Donghyuck frowns at your reaction, calling your name as he stands up and pulls his jeans back to place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you by saying it when I still don’t truly mean it the way you do.”

You can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes when you can’t even understand how you feel. “I get it, Hyuck, it’s fine.”

But maybe Donghyuck is taking it the wrong way because his voice is laced with both exhaustion and desperation to make this feel any less terrible. “Babe, can we just talk—”

“I said, I’m fine!” You turn around to face him, head dizzy and heart palpitating. It scares you. It scares you that after all this time thinking Donghyuck was the one for you—all the things you’ve done, all the memories you’ve shared—you still don’t understand your feelings for him. You loved him once, you’re sure you loved him once. But is it love if the feeling isn’t eternal? Can you call it love when it fleets by so fast, disappearing without a trace as if it’s never existed in the first place?

To think that these two years you have spent with him would amount to nothing...

You take a deep breath, wishing your body and voice to stop shaking. When you look him in the eyes, there’s nothing but certainty written in your eyes. “You’re right, we need to talk.”

Donghyuck walks to your spot, hand resting against your waist, another one framing your cheek. “Please don’t be mad,” he whispers, and for the first time in the last few months, he does look sorry. “I’m happy to hear you say those words, I really do, but—”

“I want to break up.”

He freezes, jaw dropping low. “What?” 

“I want to break up with you, Donghyuck.”

“What—why—” His eyebrows are sewn together, and you take his hand away from your face, breaking free from his hold. “You’re breaking up with me because I can’t say I love you too?”

“No.” You exhale. “I’m breaking up with you because I feel fine with you not saying it back.”

He stands in silence, then his forced chuckles fill the air. “Babe, what are you talking about—”

“Are you happy with me?” The tremble in your voice has receded. “Be honest. Are you truly happy with me? Or are you just going along with everything because you’re so comfortable—so used to the situation of being with me—that you start to think as long as I’m not hurt, it’s fine. As long as I’m not alone, I can keep going with this relationship, even when I’m with someone who doesn’t truly understand me. Or accept the real me.”

Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. His voice is a pitch lower when he speaks, bitter and hurt. “Is that how you feel? All this time when we’re together?”

“No.” Your heart still breaks at the sight of his face. “I think I really did love you once, Hyuck. And if you had rejected me a few months earlier, I would’ve probably broken down crying. But now…” You grow stiff, noticing the infuriated look that’s plastered on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stays mute and the silence only adds more tension to the atmosphere. His teeth are grinding against each other when he replies. “Why did you even say you loved me if you weren’t fucking sure about how you felt?”

You twist your finger in the hemline of your shirt, in dire need of something to keep your emotions collected. “I thought it would make us grow closer again. To fix what’s lost between us,” you weakly admit, heart throbbing and breaking at the sight of him. “But then I realized that we shouldn’t say we love someone just because we have to. We should say it because we want to. Because we truly feel that way. But I didn’t feel anything when you didn’t say it back. I only felt… relieved.” 

The enraged look on his face forces you to drag your eyes to your feet and you stay still, breathing as quietly as possible. It’s only when Donghyuck starts to reach for his jacket, muttering, “I’m not having any of these bullshits,” as he walks passes you that you dare to look in his direction.

“How easy for you to put this all on me,” he declares with his fingers lingering on the doorknob, so spitefully it shocks you. “You probably think I’m dumb and insensitive, but I know. I’ve noticed the way you changed ever since you met him.”

“What?” His words feel like a slap to the face. “I don’t—”

“You know,” he cynically laughs into the air, throwing his head back. “Just because you found someone who makes you happy ‘cause he can quote your favorite lines, read your favorite books or listen to the same shit you like, doesn’t mean you can throw me away like I’m some fucking garbage.”

You’re petrified by his words. Somewhere in your head, you keep saying that the reason why you’re breaking up with him is that you’re so different from each other—that there would be little to no chance for the two of you to understand one another even if you’re given all the time in the world. But you can’t deny that there’s a part of you that completely rejects Donghyuck simply because you’ve stopped wanting him as much as you want Jaehyun. 

It sickens you.

“I’m…” It’s suffocating. The tension in the air, his eyes, the way your heartbeat is ramming against your ribcages. “I’m sorry...”

Your apology only aggravates him more and with gritted teeth, Donghyuck slams the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silence of your room.

Your apartment has never felt this big before.

***

It’s funny how you just ended your two years relationship with your boyfriend but Donghyuck isn’t the one you’ve been avoiding for months. It’s Jaehyun.

Something is gnawing at you from the inside, the feeling of guilt as if you just sinned. You didn’t cheat on your boyfriend. Physically, you didn’t. You’re attracted to Jaehyun, everybody would be to someone who owns such a handsome face and delicate features. But it’s more than just physical attraction because when you lay at night in your bed, alone and empty, it’s not his face that comes to mind. It’s the little thing he does, the way he listens to your words so attentively, the way he smiles—happy and sad at the same time, the way he greets you, the way he nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to think of a word to write on his note. 

And the dreams.

The dreams never stop, they only grow stronger. You can remember each and every one of them crystal clear when you wake up. They’re usually different every night but for the last few days, the atmosphere and the surroundings were the same. 

In the dream, you were lying down in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but your white gown, too weak to even lift a finger. Jaehyun was sitting on a wooden chair with a book in his hand—the one that he presented you as a gift in real life—while his other hand was holding yours, thumb tenderly gliding against your knuckles. He seemed much thinner, cheekbones growing prominent with dark eye-bags tainting his pale skin. But his smile was the same, just as warm, just as tender.

He was reading you a story, one that you had memorized by heart from how many times you’ve read it. But it’s different when he read the words out loud, voice melodious and soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. When it was over, he beamed at you, asking, “What’s your favorite part of the story?” And you opened your mouth but no words could come out. You were losing your voice, could only make croaking sounds and even that already put a strain on your body. You could see how much it broke him to hear you struggle but he waited patiently, hand squeezing yours tighter. 

“Me too,” he responded after he heard your answer, kissing your knuckles. “I like that one too.”

In another dream, you saw him sitting at the edge of your bed, his mouth still formed that beautiful, delicate smile, but his eyes were as heavy as the storm. You asked him, why, what’s wrong, trying your best to let your voice break free from your mouth. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I won’t let anything separates us,” he said and it felt more like a promise than how it sounded. “Not time, not death, nothing. I will always be with you.” He let his lips linger on your temple as he whispered the next words. “So it’s okay if you want to sleep. I won’t be going anywhere.”

Then… I’ll see you again when I wake up.

“Yes.” He leaned closer, letting his lips meet your chapped ones in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

But by the time you opened your eyes, heart thrumming loudly inside your chest, with the sound of the alarm in your phone muffled by your pillow, you knew that in the dream, once you go to sleep, you’d never be able to wake up.

I have to see him.

***

Three months have passed since you last saw him. It’s funny that despite how close you are to each other, know each other like the back of your hand, you just only realize now that you haven’t given him a way to contact you. No home address. No phone numbers. No social media. You’re not even sure what his last name was. You never needed to know his contact details before. Every day, an hour before the sun is replaced by the moon, you will meet each other here in this library—that was the unspoken promise between you and neither of you ever broke it. Not until now. The second you stop coming to the library, you disappear from his life as well, as easy as snapping your fingers.

The quickest way to see him is by visiting the library. Today you will see him. You just have to.

It’s raining hard, hard enough to drench you to your socks, painting shivers to each of your fingertips. It’s a Sunday evening, the sun is an hour away from setting behind the horizon. But with how heavy the rain is going, the day will turn into the night before the sun can shine its light through the clouds again.

Hesitation arises within you as you take shelter on the porch, your shivering fingers circling the doorknob to the library. He might not even be here in this kind of weather, you miserably think to yourself. It wasn’t raining when you took your leave half an hour earlier but you should’ve noticed how thick and dark the clouds were. Your thoughts were too jumbled that you didn’t even think about carrying an umbrella with you.

But you’re already here and if he still keeps his promise…

You take a step inside.

Your clothes are drenched but thankfully they’re not dripping water to the carpeted floor. It’s warmer inside, so warm that you feel like you’re home, sitting close to a fireplace, basking in the scent of sandalwood. Your eyes naturally scan the room, taking a longer glance at the table where you usually sit in front of him, a book in your hands, a smile strapped to your face. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s not here. Is it because of the rain? Or… Maybe he has stopped coming here to see me. 

You can only realize how important someone is to you when they’re gone and it hurts so much that you have to nip at your lower lip, fingers curling around the end of your sweater. 

I want to see him again…

“You’re here…”

You turn your head to the source of his voice, heart about to burst when you see Jaehyun stopping on his tracks, one hand holding the entrance door open, another one carrying a folded umbrella that drips water to the floor. He’s so stunned at the sight of you, he doesn’t even appear to be breathing. In a whisper, your name breaks free from his lips.

And you run towards him with all your might.

He nearly stumbles from how hard you’re crushing your body against his, his umbrella falling from his grip but he doesn’t push you away. Jaehyun is warm, warmer than everything you’ve ever held and you wonder whether you’re just freezing from the cold or he’s always been this comforting. It feels so natural to stay in his embrace, to be wrapped with his strong arms, to have him whisper your name against the shell of your ear. 

I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.

Jaehyun...

The first tear that slips down your cheek is an accident, as you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t even know why you’re crying but you can’t stop. You sob against his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his knitted sweater, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying harder but failing every time. 

Jaehyun never breaks away from your embrace. He does not care if people stare, does not listen to the murmurs being exchanged at the back of the room. He pulls you closer, one hand holding you around the waist and the other one stroking your damp hair. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, overwhelming you with his scent, his warmth, his voice, his everything and you still want more. His lips nearly brush against the tip of your ear when he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hands are now fisting the back of his sweater, pressing your cheek to his chest as you muffle your cry, focusing more on the sound of his heartbeat. It feels like a dream, one that you never want to wake up.

It’s only when you have the strength to pull away from him that he releases you. He swipes his thumb under your eye, erasing the stains of your tears. He looks at you in a way that is so different than the way Donghyuck used to. His gaze is softer, a mix between the feeling of relief for having you in his arms and a yearning to have more as if you’re still far away from his reach.

I want him to stare at me like this forever.

“You’re freezing,” he says, noticing the coldness of your cheek against his palm. “Would you like to come over to my place? I can make you something warm.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “That would be nice.”

***

Jaehyun’s sweater is too big that the hem falls to the middle of your thighs. Your clothes are in the dryer, making rumbling noise that’s loud enough to fill the awkward silence between you. Drying your hair with a towel he gave you, you take a seat next to him, careful enough not to invade his personal space too much.

“How are you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, handing you a cup of hot chocolate.

“Warmer now, thanks.” You wrap your fingers around the mug, seeing a cloud of steam erupting from your drink. 

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad you look fine.” 

“I am. I feel fine. More so than I’ve ever been.” And it’s not a lie. Being here with him, despite everything that happened, makes you feel at ease. He makes you feel as if you had been embarking on a trip for so long and now you’re finally home. “Were you, umm…” Were you planning to wait for me at the library? Have you been waiting for me all this time? Or was it just a mere coincidence that we bumped into each other again?

“Were I what?”

“Never mind.” You don’t have the bravery to do it. Flushed, you quickly take a sip of your drink.

“I was about to wait for you,” he suddenly confesses, nearly making you choke. “I was… worried about you. I kept wondering whether something bad happened.” His voice gradually turns into murmurs as he continues. “And I thought... After what happened... You hated me.”

The ticking sound of the clock echoes like thunder when silence hangs in the room. “I would never hate you, Jaehyun…” You’re unconsciously rubbing the edge of your mug with your thumb, eyes fixated on the glass instead of him. “There’s no way I could hate you.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his head to face you. “Well, you stopped visiting for three months without leaving a word. It was hard for me to stay positive,” he says, a bit teasingly, “And I had no idea how to contact you either. I didn’t know what else to do but wait in the library every day until I could see you again. So that’s what I did.”

Blood is rushing to your face. He did wait for me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He chuckles and you just realized how much you missed hearing it. “You don’t need to. I’m glad we can meet again.”

“Me too.” You mirror his smile. “You know, you could’ve just looked me up online.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” He asks and your heart stops. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You have to tell him the truth, you owe him that much. “I couldn’t. The way Donghyuck looked at me when I broke up with him made me feel so guilty and I knew I would hate myself even more if I ran back to you right after.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questions in a whisper. “What did you feel guilty for?”

Your heartbeat roars so thunderously loud, you can hear it in your ears. “Because he said the reason why I broke up with him was that… I had feelings for you.”

Jaehyun stays in silence for a few seconds and it drives you insane. Eventually, he leans forward to lay his cup down on the coffee table. “So…” He hesitantly speaks. “Did you tell him he was wrong about that?”

You tighten your hold around your cup. “I…” Taking a deep breath, you confess. “I didn’t.”

And there are so many things to be said, but none of you dares to speak. The silence is deafening, its invisible arms strangling you little by little and you’re trapped, not knowing whether to ask him to respond or just run away before your heart explodes to pieces.

Jaehyun does that look again where he stares at you like you own his heart, giving you the permission to hold it or crush it however you like. “Your hair is still dripping water,” he says, reaching out to place his hands around the towel and gently dab your strands, squeezing out the excess water and he’s so close, you can truly see the color of his eyes. In the soft, yellowish light of his room, they’re a little bit darker, a stark contrast to his pale skin. You’re distracted with the way his eyes shimmer under the light, the way he breathes so softly, warm breath hitting your lips.

And you don’t know who initiate it, but for the next breath you take, you’re gasping for it against his mouth. Jaehyun’s lips move slow against yours, tentative and patient, waiting for you to react. But he doesn’t have to wait, not when you’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Not when both of you have been wishing for it to happen.

If your mind wasn’t too deluded with the thoughts of him, how he feels against your body, how he tastes on your tongue, how the low grunt and moan that escape from the back of his throat successfully send shivers down your spine, you would’ve probably thought about how different he was compared to Donghyuck. Jaehyun was so tender, cradling your figure so gently as if you were about to break into pieces if he moves too fast. His kisses aren’t as rushed and bruising as Donghyuck’s, but they’re deep and just as passionate, if not more. The effects that his lips have on your skin burn stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. And if you thought Donghyuck reminded you of the sun, Jaehyun was the blazing sun himself.

But you couldn’t think of Donghyuck. You can’t think of anything else but Jaehyun. Right now, he’s the only one that matters.

“Push me away anytime you want,” he says, eyes dark and hazy, as he circles a hand around your waist to press your body flat against his chest.

With one hand fisting his collar, you let your lips taste him once more. “I never want you to.”

Your soft gasp is muffled by the skin of his neck when Jaehyun lifts your body off the couch, and you tangle your legs around his waist for support as he carries you toward his bedroom. Despite the growing, overwhelming passion between you, he lies you down so gently on the bed, hovering above you as he paints your name at the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, pulling him closer and closer until you can sink completely into his warmth. 

No words are being exchanged because they don’t need to. Jaehyun speaks with his eyes, expresses his feelings with his lips, and carves your body with nothing but affection and adoration with his gentle hands. It amazes you how different sex can feel when there are feelings involved. It’s a connection, not just between your body and his but your mind, your soul, and every bit of your heart.

You’re more sensitive to his touch that even the slightest slide of his finger can make you arch your back. Jaehyun swallows every gasp, every moan of his name that tumbles down your lips and you do just the same with his.

He only stops to give you the chance to catch your breath when he’s fully sheathed inside you. His fingers tremble as they caress your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, sounding breathless and hoarse. He looks even more beautiful like this, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and swollen by kisses, pale cheeks reddening at the feeling of you peering into his eyes.

You smile, gaze softening. “I’m fine.”

Jaehyun has never looked so content before, so relieved, so happy and it makes you feel something in your stomach—something that you haven’t felt for months—to know that you’re the reason behind his most genuine, beautiful smile. When he whispers, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” into your ear, you know that he’s not talking about the time you were absent from the library. His words have more weight to them as if he’s been waiting for you for years as if you once belonged to him before something separated the strings between you.

“I’m going to move, okay?” Jaehyun murmurs against your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding a little.

He takes it slow, waiting for you to adjust to his rhythm as he keeps his eyes on your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a small moan, barely audible. He splays one hand on the inner part of your thigh, fingers pressing hard against the supple skin as he pins it down to the bed, spreading your legs wider so he can press himself deeper inside you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your jawline. “So beautiful…”

You nibble at your lip, circling your arms around his shoulders, raking your nails down his back as he picks up the pace. He’s perfect, he’s so perfect at everything he does—the sway of his hips, the angle, the way he changes from giving shallow to deep thrusts in accordance to your expression, knowing exactly what you need. 

He kisses you every time you give him the chance and it makes everything a lot more intimate, makes you feel more vulnerable, makes you feel more exposed. “I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead pressing against your own. “I’ve always been… All this time…”

There’s a surge of joy washing through your entire body and it’s so intense, you find yourself hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your vision blurred with tears. How can you feel so complete when this is your first time with him?

“Jae—” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you wrap your legs around his hips, arms hugging his shoulders tighter. “Jaehyun, I’m—I’m close—”

At your words, Jaehyun untangles your arms from his body and sits on his heels. He takes a hold of your waist and slams his hips harder to yours, driving you to the edge until you’re left sobbing against the sheets. He pulls away on the last second to finish himself off, tainting your stomach as a low grunt breaks free from the back of his throat. His bangs are falling over his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down from his chest to his lean stomach and he still looks like a painting, one that you can’t seem to stop admiring.

“Wait, don’t move,” he says as if you had the strength to do so. “I’ll clean you up.”

When he comes back from the bathroom, fully clothed in a white tee and black sweat pants, he takes care of you so attentively, dabbing warm towel along your skin, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. A gentle smile never leaves his face but he blushes whenever your eyes make eye contact, though not as apparent as the shakes on his fingertips. 

“You’re so good at this,” you tease him, propping your elbows on the bed. “Must have a lot of experience with women, I’m sure.”

“I’ve only ever been with you,” he answers and it doesn’t sound like a lie.

“What?”

His movement stops, acknowledging the appalled look on your face. “There’s… something you need to know.” He slips under the comforter, lying down on his side, and makes sure it covers your body to your shoulders to keep you warm. “That day, when we first met… It wasn’t our first time meeting each other.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows are adjoined in the middle. “When did we first meet then?”

Jaehyun falls quiet, eyes searching yours. “In the same library,” he says, “Seventy-four years ago.”

***

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips as you scan your surroundings. Jaehyun has taken you somewhere you haven’t been before, a rural area in the foothills of Jiri Mountain. After spending more than three hours drive from Seoul, seeing nothing but never-ending roads and traffic signs, it feels refreshing to see a charming little village, blanketed in a snow of white and soft pink, with the sound of water streams soothing your ears and cold wind of April caressing your cheeks.

“Hwagae,” he claims, his hand never leaving yours as he walks next to you, taking shorter strides to match your step. “People usually think that Jinhae is the best place to see cherry blossoms, but for me, it’s here.” He glances at the way your fingers are intertwined with his, smiling timidly to himself. “But maybe due to personal reasons.”

“Well, you’re not lying…” You murmur in awe, eyes widening at the sight of cherry blossoms trees that line the road, following both sides of a turquoise-blue stream, pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. “It’s beautiful.”

You can hardly pay attention to anything else so when Jaehyun presses a kiss against your hairline, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “It is, isn’t it?” He says, pushing some loose strands behind your ear. “Beautiful.”

With his eyes locked with yours, it seems like he’s praising something else and you look away, cheeks heating up at his words. “How long does this road goes?”

“Around four kilometers.” Jaehyun follows your steps. “There are more than a thousand cherry blossom trees around. Locals call this lane the Marriage Road as it is said that lovers who walk hand-in-hand under the trees will get married and live happily ever after.”

He tightens his grips around your hand, and you can swear your palm is getting sweaty from how nervous you are. “You just can’t stop making me blush, can you?”

“I’m just stating out facts.” He chuckles and it’s even more beautiful than the whole scenery. He’s more beautiful than anything you’ve seen. But when he speaks, all trace of humor has dissipated. “You may not remember but... This was the place where I asked you to marry me.”

You have seen it coming but it still shocks you, nonetheless. It’s easier to treat him as a liar who’s telling superstitious stories and pointing things about you because he’s a stalker that knows more about you than he should. But the more he tells his stories, the more they feel like the truth and it’s not just a hunch. His stories are his versions of the dreams you’ve been having. The dreams that you’ve gotten ever since you first met him, and you never told anyone about that.

As you take a seat on the nearest bench, Jaehyun hands you his journal—the one he’s been using to write his novel. “I think it’s time for you to read the story.” But as you reach out to open it, he lays his hand on top of yours. “Before that,” he says, “Remember what I asked you? I want you to guess the ending for me.”

You’ve never thought about it, never imagined how the ending of his story would unravel. He has told you that it was about a pair of lovers meeting each other by fate and separated tragically by death, you knew that much. But anything could’ve separated them, whether it was because of sickness, accident, or simply because of old age, you could’ve guessed wrong. Yet, when your lips moved without thinking, providing answers that make your heart jolt, Jaehyun smiles and says, “Correct.” He then opens the book and gives you the chance to run your eyes through every passage. It’s written in a first-person narrative, allowing you to see through Jaehyun’s eyes as he unveils his story. 

The female lead has your name.

Every line. Every word. Every description. They feel like deja vu and the tiny hairs at your nape begin to raise. Your fingertips tremble as they move to open new pages. These are memories. They truly happened in the past. As you read, you can feel your own coming back, little by little, and by the time you’re halfway through the story, you can guess the next part that’s about to happen or correct little details that may have slipped from his mind.

“They were lilies,” you say, fingers tracing his perfect handwriting. “Not white roses.”

“What?”

“The flowers you gave me on our first anniversary.”

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath, and when he chuckles it sounds like a peal of tiny laughter and a choked sob at the same time. “Is that so?” He weakly asks, fixing his gaze to his lap. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

But he remembers everything else, everything that matters, even the way he felt back then. You could tell the love he once experienced with you through his eyes, the longing he has suffered as he waits for you to remember him once more, and the agony of being separated from you.

It’s easier to cry than to breathe when the memories of your past life start to dawn on you but you provide your best effort to stay reserved. There are more you need to learn.

The reason why he visited the library was not because he lived nearby. He moved there so he could visit the library, as it was the first time he met you in the previous life. “I was hoping she would remember the place as it was something we both grew fond of,” Jaehyun wrote in his journal, “She always thought I had a passion for books. She was wrong. She was the one who taught me that stories could mean something more. That they could make you feel alive, make you feel something you’ve never experienced just by words. I’d like to believe that these stories were the ones who brought us together, so we could create our own and maybe then, we could inspire other people—to make them feel alive with our stories.

I waited for her every day, from one season to another. The memories I have of her have always been there with me ever since I could remember, but that did not guarantee hers would resurface. Maybe she was looking for me. Maybe she was not. Either way, I couldn’t give up. I would not give up. 

And finally, one day, I saw her again. In the same library, with the same little smile she always had whenever she had her eyes fixated on her book. She appeared exactly the same as the first time I met her 74 years ago. I could not breathe, trapped between reaching out to her or just standing still in the distance, because when our eyes met for a brief second, she looked away. 

She did not remember me.

I was crushed. Devastated. I was nothing but a stranger. Twenty-five years I had been searching for her and now that she stood before me, I lost the ability to speak. It took me another week until I could find the bravery within me. I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible, even when my heart was breaking, even when my hands were shaking. I sank my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t take her hand and pull her into my embrace. When she told me her name, I was shocked. Her last name was different but her first name was the same, and I wanted to laugh. Fate could be so cruel, letting her keep her name but not her memories. 

But memories could be re-created, and I learned that none of her habits had changed. I might be a stranger, but to me, she was not. She was my wife and I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her I love her and hear her say the words back to me. I was ready to start over, to make her fall in love with me once more but before I could even begin, I learned that she had belonged to someone else.

And what killed me was that… She did not look happy with him.”

Your breathing stalls. Everything makes sense now. He’s been holding everything to himself. This was the secret he kept from you. And that time when he almost kissed you… What did you say to him?

“Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

That’s what he did. He stopped pretending. 

And you pushed him away, treating both of your feelings and his like a mere high school crush when they were something deeper than anything you’ve ever had. 

You place your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it until it grows white. He must have been so hurt, you realize, I’m the worst.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, reaching out to take your hand. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I—” You shake your head, hoping the tears won’t fall. You give him a reassuring smile. “I want to. I need to remember.” Your smile doesn’t deceive him but he gives you the space you need, believing the honesty in your words.

Your marriage with him only lasted for four years before you passed away in your sleep, your weak lungs could no longer support your system, and through his story, you learned that Jaehyun followed you to the place he shouldn’t have. Because just a few minutes later after you took your final breath, he slit both of his wrists with a knife and hugged your body close to his chest, his blood drenching the white sheets underneath. His lips lingered against your hairline as he spoke, “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

His neat handwriting starts to turn into dark splotches of ink as it is tainted by your tears. You’ve remembered. You’ve remembered everything. Everything that makes you happy and everything that hurts, you’re reliving each and every one of them. 

“Why?” You sob, shoulders quivering as you try to keep your emotions contained. “Why did you do that? You could’ve lived for many more years. Could’ve found someone else.” You bury your face in your palms, voice muffled by your skin. “You could’ve been happy without me.”

You can’t see how he looks at you, can’t feel his touch as he’s nowhere near, but you hear him take his breath. “My mother used to say,” he says, “that two people who are meant to be would always find their way to each other, even in the afterlife.” Jaehyun moves and kneels on the ground in front of you, his hands prying yours away from your face and his smile has never looked this blissful. “That’s why,” he continues, voice so soft it’s almost as light as the wind. “If there’s a chance, no matter how little it is, for me to see you again I would gladly trade my eternity for it.”

There are emotions you can’t explain, ones that you can’t understand. Emotions that make you cry as if the world was ending but also ones that make you feel so blessed to be born into this world, to be able to see him again, to witness his beautiful smile, his beautiful soul, and the beautiful love he has for you.

“Why are you crying?” Jaehyun chuckles softly but the quiver in his voice betrays him. He strokes your cheek, drying your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

Leaning into his touch, you sob against his palm, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you, Jaehyun. Even if my memories never came back, I’d still fall in love with you. Over and over again. I’m sorry you had to wait—”

Jaehyun abruptly stands on his knees, pulling you into his embrace. As your eyes widen in surprise, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering, “If I had to wait a thousand years to be able to have this one moment with you, I’d gladly do it in a heartbeat.” His shoulders begin to shake and you wrap your arms around them, drenching the fabric of his shirt with your tears. “I love you too.”

There’s a voice inside your head that says, ah... so this is how it feels. 

Love... is not so complex after all. It doesn’t have to be. It’s not something to be understood. It’s not something to be thought endlessly. It’s not a choice to be made.

It’s a feeling, and feelings are meant to be felt. And you realize that happiness does not only emerge when your love is answered with the same passion. Happiness is already there in your heart just by loving him. You love him. You just love him. Entirely. Infinitely. 

So you kiss him with the biggest smile you can make, you pull him close with every strength that you have and you let him stay. In this life or another, you will let him stay.

And you will see him again when you wake up.

***

[rwprincess]

Head Over Feet (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.8k

Synopsis: What’s that sound? It’s another anachronistic Brian Johnson songfic! (Based on Alanis Morissette’s Head Over Feet) You’re one of Bender’s trash-punk friends and things change drastically when he brings the scrawny brain from detention with him to meet you all. Set up in snippets, your relationship develops with Brian, even if you weren’t really looking for a relationship.

CW: Teenage smoking (including reader), swearing, parental abuse (being being kicked out), sexism, angst and fluff

“This is Johnson,” Bender indicated the boy he brought along to your group’s spot under the bleachers.

“Brian, please.” The kid corrected. You eyed the gangly youth from top to bottom; in his sweater over a crisply-ironed collared shirt and khakis, he definitely didn’t fit in here with you all. You’d be called grungy punks at best. You didn’t think any of you even owned an iron and crisp definitely wasn’t your style. You blew out a puff of smoke, exhaling the nicotine from your lungs and shifted your gaze to Bender, wondering what he was at with this. He wasn’t the best guy, but pranking this preppy little nerd by bringing him down to your hangout? That seemed beneath him.

“You, uh, running some kinda charity here, Bender? We’re not exactly Make-A-Wish material, kid.” Scorch told the blonde dweeb and you snorted at the thought.

“Shut the fuck up,” was all Bender said in response. The rest of the twenty minutes of Brian Johnson standing there was of course, incredibly awkward and it was clear to everyone that he didn’t fit in. But that didn’t stop him from coming back a week later. And again a few days after that. And again and again until, well, that dork had grown on the lot of you. While he didn’t partake in cigarette smoking like most of you, he did take Bender up on his weed on several occasions and was actually really funny while high. He did weirdly spot-on impressions and had a sense of humor that none of your group had anticipated.

And, as much as you would vehemently deny it, you liked him when he was sober, too. He was incredibly smart and helpful and while his jokes were different without marijuana in his system, he could be amusing. That first awkward encounter was back in March, maybe April. But now you spent time with him without the convenience of school pulling you together. Now it was June and you sought to spend time with him, even without the group. Tonight, you were laying in a field not far from the high school, just the two of you. You liked to listen to him ramble on about the constellations and the myths about why they were named as they were. You remembered liking that as a kid, but you didn’t remember most of the stories. You knew you could ask him questions about the actual stars, too. Like, the science of it, and he would know. But you’d rather let him ramble and tackle one subject at a time. Even though he focused more on science and math, he was a pretty good storyteller, and right now that provided you with more of an escape than talking about the chemical composition of a star. When he finished his retelling of Ursa Minor’s story, however, he remained silent and didn’t start up a new piece of lore. After a moment, you looked at him to see what the hold up was, but you just caught his eye as his gaze was already fixed on you. Your heart started pounding in your chest because you knew what was coming.

“You know, we could go on an actual date some time.” Brian suggested, breaking the silence. You closed your eyes, almost wincing at the words. He was generally more subtle than this, but the same idea had been brought up before. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Brian. In general, you did, and in the honest depths of your soul, it was as more than a friend. But, every time it came down to this subject, you panicked. You had never been serious with anyone and the thought of dating was completely foreign to you. You had messed around with some guys before but you never had feelings for them. You didn’t know how to depend on another person, to have an actual relationship with them.

I had no choice but to hear you

You stated your case time and again

I thought about it

You sighed, your eyes still closed. You didn’t know what to tell him. Before, he always left it as more of a hint and it was easier to dodge. Now he was just coming out and saying it. Basically asking you out, so you would actually have to turn him down this time. The terrible thing was, you didn’t really want to. The conscious side of you wanted to agree and go out with him, on a proper date. But your subconscious kicked you into fight or flight mode and if you weren’t in the middle of a field, you might have picked flight and walked away. But that didn’t seem to be an option.

“Look, Johnson. It’s not that easy. Just...don’t waste your time on me.”

“I’m already wasting my time on you.” He pointed out, but when you took a peek at him, he didn’t seem upset about it. He was actually grinning about it. “We’re already wasting our time out here. Or at the library, or under the bleachers… So why not like, a movie theater or dinner, or my house?”

“Oh yeah, your mom would love having me around.” You joked, humorlessly. The smattering of times you had met Brian’s mother hadn’t gone swimmingly. You could read the derision in her voice and knew she did not approve of her good little baby hanging out with a ne’er-do-well like you.

“She’d come around. You’re different once someone actually gets to know you.” He meant it as a compliment, but you took it as your out.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You leapt up, indignantly and he just gaped at you like a fish out of water.

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I swear!” He put his hands up defensively as you looked down at him. “Forget it, I’m sorry.” You had victory, he dropped the subject and your friendship could last another night and you could try to pretend like he wasn’t right, that you two weren’t meant to be something more.

*~~~~*

You treat me like I'm a princess

I'm not used to liking that

You ask how my day was

For the most part, working at Bert’s auto shop felt worthwhile and valuable. Other days, it chewed you up and spit you out. It was hard being in such a masculine environment and not fitting into that type. Customers (mostly men, but even the women too) thought that you were less knowledgeable and handy than your cohorts. Bender’s teasing didn’t help that image, either.

Now you slid into the booth at Gino’s pizzeria utterly deflated and defeated. Of course, Brian took notice right away. “Rough day?” He inquired, pushing a menu towards you even though he knew you ordered the same thing every time.

“That’s not even the half of it. Why does Bender hafta be such a dick all the time?!” You asked, incredulously but sincerely, diving right into your problem.

“I don’t know. I think he thinks it’s part of his charm? Maybe it is. I mean, we’re still friends with him.” You nodded at his point, but clenched your fists just the same.

“I just wish he knew when to back off sometimes. Like, he never realizes he’s taking it too far and digging you further into a shithole.”

“What did he do this time?” Brian’s gaze on you was unbroken; it made you feel important, like your opinion, your story, was the only thing that mattered.

“So we got this old guy in the shop today. Beautiful car, so of course he was hesitant with me touching it.” You began and his eyebrows furrowed, already not liking the direction this was going. “And I’m trying to prove myself worthy to work on this car, even though I would just be doing an oil change, which isn’t like a big deal anyway, right? Simple stuff.” You looked to him to get acknowledgement to move forward.

“I mean, I guess. I don’t really know about oil changes or anything about cars. But I know you do.”

“Right, so Bender has to go and make a crack to the old guy about how they won’t let me near it and I’m just the secretary for the shop or whatever. Just a total dick move. But of course the guy believed him and laughed with him and sent me to go get him a cup of coffee? I mean, what the hell is that?”

“That’s not right. And you wear a mechanic’s uniform at work, why would he think--?”

“Because macho man Bender told him I was! He was more believable than me.” You sank back and put a hand up to brace your forehead as the waitress approached the table. You prepared to order your drink when she set down exactly what you would have ordered in front of you and walked away, promising to come back in a few minutes. You blinked at the cup as if it magically had appeared.

“I uh, figured you’d get the usual and you’d need it when you got here, so I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” Brian said and then looked away, suddenly embarrassed by the idea. Since he wasn’t looking at you anyway, you allowed your lips to twitch up into a smile threatening to break out on your face...but only for a moment.

“Yeah, whatever. So anyway, Bender…” you carried on, pretending nothing happened, but secretly cataloguing his gesture in your memory.

*~~~~*

The only thing worse than arguing with Brian or him pissing you off was him making you laugh. There were times that you would go home with sore sides and itchy eyes from the tears that formed while laughing so hard. Then you would always, always reflect on the hours you just spent together, feeling the warmth and butterflies tickle your insides and a nervous heat would prickle your skin as you thought about how happy Brian made you. He never pushed you to do anything; he liked you the way you were. Sure, he would drop hints here and there about how you should stop smoking or give you advice when you had a particularly bad argument with one of your friends, but overall, he just accepted you. And you knew how hard that was to find.

You had never been popular and when junior high rolled around, you accepted that you never would be. You found your own little group of outcasts who understood what it was like to be kicked down time and again, and now he had somehow joined that group too. You knew he understood how it felt. Even though he looked different and came from a very different social circle, he had been looked down upon by his peers all his life. You were guilty of judging him the same way when you first met him, but now you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was cut of the same cloth and you could see yourself in him, which is why you just clicked. And he was so kind and so patient with you. You tried to push him away dozens of times, to put up the barriers and the walls that worked so well for everyone that came before him; you couldn’t be hurt if you never got attached. Where most people gave up and only saw the cold, distant bitch you gave them, Brian always saw something more. He didn’t give up in breaking down those walls, and even accepted just being your friend. That made you love him even more.

Shit, wait. Did you just think about loving Brian? A crush is one thing. Having a buddy to fool around with is one thing. Being in love was quite another.

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

*~~~~*

Mercedes Johnson was all about keeping up appearances, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear her arguing with Brian on the other side of the door, about you. Again. You had known from the second you met her that she didn’t like you. She was instantly worried about the influence you’d have on her son; it was a common reaction from parents based on the way you looked and the company you kept. You would think you’d be used to it by now.

However, it truthfully bothered you more because this was Brian’s mother. You were hoping that she would be different and see the person underneath like her son had, or at the very least, that she would eventually warm up to you. You had no luck with either.

“I’m not comfortable with having her over at the house right now.” You could hear her tell Brian.

“She’s my friend, ma. Of course she’s going to come over--”

“I’m aware of that but you know I wish she weren’t. I would prefer that you keep the company of other friends.” The formality of her sentences while she was still cruelly putting you both down made you cringe.

“You don’t know her because you won’t give her a chance. She’s not that different from my other friends.”

“You have friends in the Physics Club, from Knowledge Bowl, Honor Students. You don’t need the association with a hoodlum like that or John Bender and I don’t know why you keep insisting on bringing them into my home when I have repeatedly told you no. I don’t want them around your sister, or even you!”

“Fine. Then we’ll leave.” You heard the door swing open harshly and Brian was motioning for you to follow him out of the house.

“Brian Ralph Johnson!” You heard his mother cry after the two of you. Brian held open the front door for you and you looked at him cautiously before rushing out. You knew you weren’t wanted there, but you were worried that he wouldn’t come with you. You were even more worried that he would. “You are not leaving this house.” Mercedes put on the most intimidating tone you had witnessed her use.

“No, I am. We are. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t bother coming back tonight if you walk out of this house!” She was now pink-faced and losing all of the reserved, polished look you had seen her have. She had never been so...uncomposed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Brian said and grabbed you by the elbow as he escorted you down the driveway to your car. He immediately got into the passenger seat and as you sunk behind the steering wheel, you glanced at him.

“Brian, this is stupid. You don’t have to---you shouldn’t do this.” The whole situation reminded you of the many times you had been kicked out of your house. This was just another home you weren’t welcome in.

He clenched his jaw in response. “Let’s just go. I’ll figure it out later. Please, just drive.”

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole

You're so much braver than I gave you credit for

That's not lip service

“Your mom gave you a choice, you know. It’s not like she told you to get out. She actually told you not to leave.” You said as you both sat on the trunk of your car, looking out across the field that was slowly turning to a golden hue, both from the afternoon sun and the change into autumn. Neither of your houses were really an option to go to, so you just chose the empty field that you would look at stars in during the summer.

“It’s not like it was really a choice though, was it? I’m tired of her trying to control every part of my life. I need to start thinking for myself, doing things for myself. She needs to understand that I’m going to do what I want, and like who I want to like.” He looked at you meaningfully for a moment, but you looked away quickly. It was too heavy for you to process right now.

“That’s a big step. I’m really impressed with you for standing up for yourself.” You told him, and he gave you an appreciative, heart-stopping smile in return that caused your cheeks to flush. Your parents had shouted at you to leave so many times before, any time you were ‘inconvenient’ for them, that it was hard to relate to someone who chose not to stay. But you wanted to support him and you did feel proud of him today. You thought back to the most recent event in which you had been dismissed from your family, and how you had tried to take it out on Brian:

You slammed your locker and watched him almost jump out of his skin. “I don’t want to talk about this.” You growled at Brian.

“I understand that, but you need to. You can’t just--”

“Just what?”

“You can’t just act like nothing happened or run away from it...run away from here.” You had been disciplined at school yet again and your parents had had enough. You had a big fight with them the night prior and did not sleep in your own bed. The tiredness racked your body today and you were stiff from sleeping in your car. If it weren’t for the social aspect, you wouldn’t have bothered coming to school. But you quickly realized you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone, and you were only making the situation worse.

“Like hell I can’t.” You stated, quickly turning to walk away.

“Y/N, don’t. Come on, talk to me. Tell me what happened. We can figure it out together.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, bucko. I’ll be fine. I’ll do this on my own. I’m used to that anyway.”

“But you don’t have to be alone, Y/N. That’s what I’m saying! That’s my whole point: I’m here for you!”

“I didn’t ask you to be, Brian.”

“No, because friends don’t have to ask.” His words scared you. Nobody had so adamantly offered to be a safety net to you before.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “we’re great friends. We’ve bonded so much in the, what, four months you’ve known me?” You rolled your eyes, trying to make him feel uncomfortable, to drive a wedge between you. You only knew how to put up walls, how to run.

“You know we are.”

“Yeah, sure, right. Friends. Not like you want to sleep with me or anything.” You tried to drive another knife into him, to play it off like he was following you only because he had a crush on you, one you tried to pretend wasn’t reciprocated. “It’s not going to happen, Brian. So just accept that we’re not friends.”

He let you get about three steps away before you heard him say, “No. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. Sure, part of me wants something more, but...I care about you, Y/N. And if we can just be friends, I am happy with that, I swear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t try to shut me out or walk away or act like you’re fine. I know you well enough to know you’re not.” When you turned around, you could see that he had tears rimming his eyes, threatening to fall, which made your own tears spring up as well. “I am your friend. I’m not going to just let you go and do something stupid. You are going to talk about this. If not to me, then someone else. But you can’t just run away or sleep in your car or, or…”

“Okay.” You said, softly.

“Okay?”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. I screwed up again and my parents kicked me out. So what do I do?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I...we’ll think of something.” He began to tell you, but you bit your lip and drowned him out in your own sobs. Everything crashed in on you at once; you hadn’t escaped in time. You slid down your locker wall and sat on the floor. Brian joined you and put his arm around you tentatively.

You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

After that day, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You tried your best to brush him off, to hurt him, to land irreparable blows. But it was all in vain; he stuck by you. You admired how he stood up for you, for your relationship, whatever that meant. He didn’t back down, even though you knew he genuinely cared what you thought. He was willing to put everything on the line just to be with you, in whatever capacity you would allot him. And today, he had chosen you again. He had picked a fight with his mother and chosen you. He placed you above being safe and comfortable and at home right now.

“I’m sorry, this must seem so stupid to be complaining about. I know I don’t have it that bad, it’s just that--”

“No, your problems are valid, too. Your mom sucks.” You told him and he laughed, “But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t...weird to have someone be given the choice to stay instead of being yelled at to get out and that you’re worthless and---I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this about me.” You said softly, looking down at your hands.

“No, I get it. It’s gotta be on your mind a lot, the uncertainty. Plus, I don’t mind talking about you.” He nudged your shoulder with his own, trying to be playful but you knew he meant that. He always put you first. You couldn’t help your next impulse as your hand shot up to cup his face and you leaned in and kissed him roughly. You weren’t entirely sure why you had done it. It would probably change everything and you couldn’t tell if you were doing it selfishly to feel like someone cared or to keep him around or because you truly wanted to. Of course, he kissed you back, and the feeling it gave you pushed a lot of those doubts from your mind.

You're the best listener that I've ever met

You're my best friend

Best friend with benefits

What took me so long?

*~~~~*

The kiss in the field still didn’t mean you were “together.” Realistically, it complicated things for a while. You avoided Brian for a couple of days and didn’t discuss it when you finally caved in to your desire to see him. He didn’t bring it up either, even though there were many times he would look at your lips like he wanted to make a move again, but you never talked about it. Things began to look “normal” after about two weeks. You spent time at the record shop, or under the bleachers with your friends or in the library with his friends. He nagged you about giving up smoking and you finally listened, much to his surprise.

“What made you finally decide to quit?” He asked, looking at the nicotine patch on your arm. You shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth.

“I guess I just finally got tired of you being a broken record, mother hen.” You teased him, but he just smiled because he was happy with your choice. The truth of the matter was, you had done it for him. While you weren’t with him, you wanted to be. You didn’t want to keep doing something that bothered him so much, but you also knew that eventually, your habit of smoking would cost time with him and you didn’t want that. You lied to yourself that you didn’t want a relationship and weren’t thinking about a future with Brian, but you were. Every time he helped you study or encouraged you to do your best, the time your parents were out of town so he had made you his “specialty” of spaghetti in your kitchen, when you drove him around singing songs together on the radio...you thought about doing those things with him forever and instead of the fear you used to feel at such a thought, you felt happiness. You anticipated a future with him, something to look forward to.

I've never felt this healthy before

I've never wanted something rational

I am aware now

I am aware now

*~~~~*

“It’s kind of weird, yeah. But they’re cute together, I guess.” You had just returned from a movie with Bender and Claire. You were surprised at how long their relationship had lasted, especially since you had hated Claire at first. You assumed she was dating Bender as a statement, but it had been over six months and they were still together and it just seemed to work.

“It must be nice to have someone like that. Even if they don’t make sense, they care about each other. It just must be a nice thing to have a relationship like that.” Brian looked at you for a moment before backpedaling, realizing he must have made it sound like he was guilt-tripping you. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you out again. I really just was complimenting them--”

“Well, maybe you should.” You cut him off.

You realized how rare a find like Brian truly was. He always put you before himself; he listened to all of your problems and knew when to offer solutions and when to just listen. He was endlessly supportive, and kind. He kept taking giant risks just to be with you, to show you that you mattered to him. You knew, without him saying it, that he loved you. Why else would someone go to the lengths he did, just to make you happy? You had tried everything to shake him, to get rid of him so neither one of you would be in too deep to get hurt. But he stayed, and now, you wouldn’t want him to go anyway. It was too late; you were both already in too deep.

He just blinked at you, sure he had heard incorrectly. “Wh-what?”

“I said, maybe you should. Ask me out again.”

“Y/N, do you want to go out with me?” He asked, unsure. It felt like a setup, but he knew you wouldn’t do something so cruel to him.

“Yes.” You replied, softly.

“Why?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I guess you won me over.” You chuckled, but he failed to see the humor in it, so you changed to a more serious tone. “Brian, I thought that these feelings would go away, that you would go away. Lord knows how hard I’ve tried to push you. But...you didn’t and the feelings didn’t. I-I love you. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep loving you, I don’t want to waste my time with anyone else. And...And I think that you love me.”

“I do.” He breathed quietly, with zero hesitation.

“So, why fight it any more? I was afraid that I would hurt you, but I think I’ve already done that and you’ve stuck around.” He nodded in confirmation of that fact. “And I was scared that I would get hurt but...but I’ve realized that you won’t do that to me, either.”

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

He took your hands in his, “You’re serious? You really want this? Because, you know how I feel. How I’ve always felt.” You nodded in response, tears quickly filling your eyes, which was a rarity for you. He leaned in towards you to kiss you, for the first time since your conversation in the field over a month ago. He waited for you to be ready in every aspect of your relationship and you had never known so much love and respect before. It took some adjusting to, but he had pulled you in and made you fall for him again and again.

Just gonna tag my buddy...

@90sinequity

[seokiie]

𝙸𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍?

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘉𝘛𝘚 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺-𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.8𝘬

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!!!, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯

On AO3 || part two

Okay.

Okay. You're okay. You'll be fine. You take a deep breath.

Today was like any other day. You'd just gotten out of your last class of the day and you were heading to work. You were a simple college student (as were most of your coworkers) and the barista job you had at the little cafe right off campus was your only source of income. It paid surprisingly well so you never complained.

The last thing you were expecting when you open the glass doors of the coffee shop is to see a camera crew setting up lights and cameras and-

Is that fucking BTS?

Your eyes grow wide and you have to blink a few times to make sure it's real.

"Hey, y/n, what are you staring... at..." The familiar chime of someone else entering the shop snaps you out of your daze. When you turn around, you meet another pair of shocked eyes. They belong to your close friend, who also worked as a barista.

"Are you fucking seeing what I'm seeing right now..?" Your friend points a shaky finger to the seven handsome Korean men talking to the director. You quickly grab her arm and pull it down to her side when you notice one of the men, with curly hair and particularly dark eyes look over to the two of you. You offer an awkward smile and he simply turns back to focus his attention back on the director.

"Fuck, fuck. He looked at us. He saw you pointing." You whisper yell at your friend before grabbing her hand and dragging her behind the counter and into the back room. It was the only safe place left in the entire cafe that wasn't crowded with security and staff.

"Did our manager say anything about a worldwide boy group showing up to our tiny little urban cafe? Because I sure as hell don't remember it." Your friend paces around the small area of the backroom. The place was jammed with unopened packs of coffee beans and various cardboard boxes.

"No. No, I don’t think he did. Do you think we were supposed to come in for work today? What if they kick us out?" You open the door slightly, peering out into the open area of the coffee shop. It looked like the camera crew finally finished setting up and everyone was getting into their positions. "Ah, they're starting."

Now it’s your friend’s turn to grab your hand. Her nails practically dig into your wrist as she drags you out the room and towards where the camera crew is set up. No one seems to pay you two much attention as they're too focused making sure they had the right angles.

"Look, we can see everything from here without getting in the way." The municipal cafe you worked at was wide and open meaning there was lots of rooms for the hand-carved dark oak tables and big comfortable armchairs that littered the area. Your friend effectively pushes you down into one of the chairs before taking a seat across from you. She was right, you could see everything from here. And you were just out of frame.

The recording starts with the Bangtan boys saying something familiar in Korean and the director explaining... something in Korean. Suddenly, you're wishing you had English subtitles in real life.

It doesn't occur to you until various well-known tools and ingredients are placed in front of the seven guys that they're filming a run BTS episode. You probably should've figured that out sooner. As your eyes skim over the numerous appliances, you also figured out what they're doing. They're learning how to make professional handmade coffee. You guess it's safer than letting them use the bigger machines.

As the recording progresses, you find yourself laughing at how bad they are at following directions. You'd think seven guys who were skilled at learning and mastering choreography could follow basic instructions about using a Moka pot. Boy, were you wrong.

But surprisingly enough, one of them is doing pretty damn good. Actually, he's doing really fucking good!

It's Taehyung, you recognize immediately.

Your eyes follow the curly-haired man’s movements closely. His hands are working expertly against the coffee bean grinder. It's mesmerizing and oh, so satisfying watching the way the veins in his hands and arms bulge as he pushes the top of the grinder down to activate the machine. You bite your lip as your brain slowly flooded with images of those hands around your neck or the way his big hands would cover the expanse of your thighs. Have you always had a hand kink? If not, you do now.

Your eyes drift upward, stopping briefly to admire how sexy he looks in an apron. He's wearing a white button-down shirt underneath it with about four buttons undone. The sliver of skin showing has you reeling.

And then your eyes stop at his face. That beautiful jawline, the perfect curl of his hair, and that dark, hooded look in his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was looking at... at...

Holy shit, he was looking at you.

You watch as a smirk forms on his face. He'd obviously caught you eyeing him up and at the moment, he was absolutely eating up the way you shifted under his inculpative glare. You nervously look around as if saying, 'you're looking at me? Are you sure?' and he lets out a little laugh in response, his wicked smirk turning into a genuine smile before his focus is back on his coffee beans.

You let out a breathless sound.

Is this what people call a 'y/n moment'?

The recording continues for the next hour as they tried different methods of making coffee. You alternated between watching the show and talking to your friend but throughout that time, you kept feeling a pair of eyes on you, especially when your attention shifted to your friend in front of you. As she talks about how annoying some guy in her psychology class is, you can practically feel Taehyung’s eyes boring through the side of your head and into your soul.

Maybe you just thought he was looking at you. You were such an ordinary person. What would Taehyung- rich, sexy, famous, talented Taehyung want with a boring girl like you?

But you still wanted to test it. You wanted to see if he was really looking at you. If he was staring at you so intently, it had to mean something right?

You look around you to make sure you're not in the line of sight of any cameras before standing up, your friend stops her story to ask where you're going.

"Not going anywhere..." You stand beside your chair and adjust your skirt that had ridden up from you sitting down. "I just wanna stretch real quick."

Taehyung watched as you stood up, his eyes were drawn to the insane amount of thigh you were showing. If your skirt had ridden up any higher, he's sure he'd get a good look at something he's not supposed to see. His grip on the table in front of him tightens at the thought and he's lucky no one notices the way his knuckles turn white.

In your opinion, your outfit wasn't anything special. It was a simple red crop top paired with a black pencil skirt that hugged your waist and hips nicely. Now that you were standing up, Taehyung could get a good look at your body.

You raise your arms up slightly so your hands were behind your head. The action inadvertently brings your crop top up higher and pulls it tighter against your chest. You weren't completely sure if Taehyung was still watching, but to top it all off you tilt your head back slowly, letting your face twist into one of pleasure as you show off how amazing it feels to stretch your body.

When you open your eyes and look back towards Taehyung, you almost stumble back into your chair. To be completely honest, you didn't think he'd have any sort of reaction but you were greatly mistaken.

His lips were wet and parted slightly as if he'd just licked them and his eyes were iniquitous and clouded with lust. He was looking at you as if the only thing stopping him from taking you apart was the bright flashing red light on the cameras.

His stare has you stumbling back into your seat, your eyes not leaving his for a second. It feels like you're locked in place, like you're not allowed to look away until he orders you to.

"You're so extra." Your friend’s voice is kind of distant and quiet but it's all you need to snap out of the weird limbo between you and Taehyung.

"Huh?"

"I said you're extra. You stretched and made it look like you were having the best orgasm of your life." She laughs and you roll your eyes in response. When you look back at Taehyung, he's conversing with his bandmates like nothing even happened.

The filming finishes up rather quickly. The time you don't spend gushing at the seven men, you spend quietly squealing with your coworker friend. It feels as if it's over as quickly as it started, though, and as the camera crew starts to load their things into their vans, your manager instructs you to get to your station. He tells your coworker to focus on opening the shop once everyone leaves and she walks away with an "ai ai, cap'n".

The weird ordeal with Taehyung completely slips your mind as you walk behind the counter and put your apron on. First, you had to check to make sure all the machines were working and then you could-

"Hey."

The voice is deep and very familiar.

Fuck.

"Hi! I mean, hi." Your brain is a jumbled mess as you turn around and you're greeted by a tall, handsome man on the other side of the counter. Taehyung approached you. Taehyung is talking to you. Breathe.

"You're, uhh..." You watch expectantly as the man searches for the words. Somehow, his thinking face makes you feel a little less intimidated. "You're a coffee woman. You make... coffee here." He concludes and at first, you're a bit confused until you figure out what he's trying to say. You let out a little laugh.

"Yeah, I work here. I'm a barista." Taehyung tilts his head at your words.

"Barista... Ah, sorry, my English. It's not good." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and your heart practically swells in your chest. He's so cute, oh god. He's so cute and hot at the same time.

"No, no! It's okay!" You raise your hands up in a calming motion before silence falls between you two. You're first to speak up.

"Should we- can I- do you want me to make you something?" You mentally slap yourself for your stutter. Taehyung finds it endearing.

"Make me coffee?" Taehyung asks to make sure he understood you correctly. You nod in response. "You can make Americano?"

"Yeah, I can make you an Americano!" You turn to load the right beans into the grinder but a quick 'jamkkanman!' stops you in your tracks. That’s a Korean word you understand. You look back at him and raise your eyebrows.

"I want to watch, uhh, I want to learn how to do it. Not-Korean style." His smile is nervous, worried if he said the right thing. Without much thought, you usher him behind the counter. You weren't allowed to let customers behind the counter but you're sure the higher-ups would let you make an exception.

"Ok, I'll show you. First, you have to measure the beans." You say simply as you pour a couple of grams of coffee beans on the scale. As your adding and reducing the beans to get the right amount, you're starting to become hyperaware of the man standing behind you. You left space for him to stand at your side but he still chose to stand directly behind you. It was getting hard to concentrate when you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Those are too many beans, you know? This is how America does it?" Alarms start going off in your head as he steps closer (if that was even possible). His chest was pressed flush against your back now as he peered over your shoulder.

"N-no, uh... I put too many..." You try to take out some of the coffee beans and put them back in the bag but all you can focus on is the way Taehyung's hands casually find themselves on your hips. Ok, it was certain now. He was doing this on purpose.

"Hmm, too little now. I think maybe..." His voice drops to a whisper and his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. You bite your lip to suppress a moan threatening to crawl out your throat. "... Maybe you're distracted."

"I'm not... fuck." The bag of beans slip out your hands and fall onto the scale when Taehyung pulls your hips back against his. There's something heavy pressing against you, something that you would only compare to a log.

"Mm, pretty girl with a dirty mouth." He growls and rocks your hips slowly against his, pulling you against him in slow, teasing motions. Your body is starting to heat up and you're not sure if its because Taehyung is essentially fucking you through layers of your clothes or because of his subtle compliment.

"Is there... eunmilhan place?" Taehyung's grip on your hips loosens and you turn around to give him a confused look.

"Place where there's no one?" His eyebrow raises and your eyes light up. He was asking for a more secluded area. You knew just the place.

Very few people had a key to the backroom which made it the perfect place to hide away with the idol. Speaking of which, you're about to fuck an idol. Not just any idol but Kim Taehyung. Maybe that fact hasn't hit you yet. You wonder if he'll make you sign an NDA after.

You flick the light on in the small room before locking the door. The last thing you need is for a coworker to walk in. That would be especially bad.

As soon as you slip the keys into the pocket of your apron, Taehyungs hands are gripping both your wrists and bringing them above your head, effectively slamming you back against the door in the process.

"Taehyung-" Your head tilts back against the door when the curly-haired man presses his thigh between your legs. You were so pent up and touch starved. You were just thankful he was giving you something, anything.

"Hey, you know, in Korea... younger girl has to call older guy oppa. It shows respect." The pressure Taehyung is putting on your clit has you soaking through your panties and your brain struggling to keep up with his words.

"More, ah, please!" With Taehyung holding your wrists above your head and his knee between your leg, you're practically trapped against the door. It makes rubbing against him futile.

"Aishh, such a bad girl. So disobedience. Maybe I shouldn't touch you..." Your eyes shoot open at those words. Not only did you and Taehyung have so little time but the thought of him leaving you unfinished was simply unacceptable.

"Taehyung, please, please!" You whine into the crook of his neck but he doesn't let up. What more does he want from you?

"Call me oppa." Taehyung’s fingers twist themselves into the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back so you were looking straight into his half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. You open your mouth and close it in response.

You weren't completely sure if he was being serious but the way his lips parted, his eyes dropping down to your mouth and staring at them expectantly, it was hard to believe he was joking.

You licked your dry lips and sure enough, Taehyung follows the movement.

"O-oppa?" You feel a bit awkward saying the word seriously, your accent, or lack thereof making you feel self-conscious.

"So cute and shy. Weren't you teasing me so confident earlier?" Taehyung smirks as he kisses down your jaw and you subconsciously let your head tilt to the side, inviting his pretty lips to your neck. "Tell oppa what you want."

"I want you- I want oppas fingers inside me... please?" A growl leaves Taehyungs throat at your words and he says something in Korean that you couldn't quite catch. Almost immediately, he's using both his hands to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you up easily. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck. The way he has you pressed back against the door makes holding you up effortless and comfortable.

Taehyung slides your pencil skirt up till it bunches up at your waist and your soaked panties are exposed. He makes a sound of approval.

"You're so wet already, shibal. I want to eat it so bad but no time. Open." Two of Taehyungs fingers are prodding at your lips before you part them slightly and he's sliding them in. Your tongue works deftly around the digits and Taehyungs eyes don't leave yours for a second.

It all happens so quickly, Taehyung pushing your panties to the side in one easy motion, then a pair of spit-soaked fingers slipping into you with ease. You let out a moan of pleasure and a bit of surprise when the two fingers curl inside you. After easily finding your g-spot, Taehyung doesn't hold back. He fucks his fingers into you with quick, sharp motions, scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out even farther. Lord knows you'll need it.

"Ah, Fuck, Taehyung..." As soon as the needy whines leave your mouth, Taehyung is pulling his fingers out of you with a wet foop. He licks the fingers soaked with your juices, a look of satisfaction on his face before he shakes his head.

"Ah ah, what did I say to call me?" He raises an eyebrow expectantly, his thumb coming up to swipe across your lips in a slow, carnal manner that has a spark of something igniting low in your belly.

"Oppa... oppa, sorry! Please fuck me." Taehyungs thumb drops down to your lower lip, pushing it down slightly so they were parted before pressing a starved kiss to your lips. You let out a mix between a sigh and a moan, relieved to finally have his lips on yours. His tongue works expertly in your mouth and you can't help but whimper, the sound muffled by his lips.

"God, you're sexy when you beg. I can't wait anymore. Can I put it inside you?" Taehyung's hand grips your chin and tilts your head up just a bit so you were looking into his eyes again. His eyes sparkled with something, if you didn't know any better you'd think it was desperation.

You nod your head quickly. At this point, Taehyungs cock felt like your life force and without it you might die.

Taehyung lets you palm at the very defined bulge in his pants before unzipping his slacks and pulling his underwear down just enough to remove his cock from the confines of his boxers and holy shit.

It's massive.

Taehyung's cock is big and heavy in your hands. It's thick and lengthy and the longer you stare at it the more it twitches with interest.

"Ah, it's embarrassing... if you stare..." Taehyung bites his lip as his length jerks upward, blobs of precum beading up at his tip.

"It's so- what if- I don’t know if it can fit..." You stare down in awe. You've never seen anyone so... well endowed? You're kind of scared he might split you in half.

"Wah, a lot say that, you know? But they can take it!" Taehyung looks up at you with an almost innocent smile on his face, a hint of red still on his cheeks and at the tip of his ears. "Your pussy wraps prettily around my fingers so... so I want to see it... I want to see it wrap prettily around my cock..."

You're a bit shocked at his lewd words but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. Reluctantly, you brace your arms on his shoulders, perching yourself right above Taehyung's length as he angles it towards your folds. His other hand is gripping your ass and effectively spreading you open further.

"Are you ready? I'll put it inside now." He sounds awfully polite for someone about to literally rearrange your guts. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and let out a quiet 'Mhm'.

You can feel yourself throbbing as Taehyung eases just the head of his cock inside of you. How is it that you already felt so stretched? You whimper against his neck, trying your best to stay quiet as sparks of pain and pleasure surge through you.

It would be a lie to say Taehyung wasn't having as hard of a time as you were. He wanted so desperately to just pull you down onto his cock and fuck you ruthlessly into the door but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. His hand trembles against your ass as he struggles to sit you down on his length slowly.

"Fuck, so big, you're so big, oppa.." You bite down at the skin between Taehyungs neck and collarbone and he lets out a low groan in response, squeezing your ass in an attempt to keep you from sliding all the way down onto him.

His tip had just barely made it past your entrance and despite some of his length already being inside, you already felt so full. There's no way he'd be able to fit inside you completely-

Your jumbled train of thought is cut off suddenly by the doorknob beside you jerking rapidly, followed by a series of rhythmic knocks on the door. In a moment of sudden panic, Taehyung's hand, the one that was holding you up, snaps up and presses against the door like it might open at any second.

But if Taehyung's hand wasn't holding you up anymore...?

"Ahh!! Ahah! Fuck, Taeh-" Instantaneously, you're dropped onto Taehyung's cock, his length filling you up completely and sending waves of pleasure and pain through you as his cockhead jabbed tenaciously at your cervix. At that, you're letting out a series of uncontrollably loud moans and he's slapping a hand over your mouth.

"Y/n? Are you in there? What happened?" It's your coworker’s voice. Fuck. The door handle jiggles some more and Taehyung's making an urgent face at you. He removes his hand from your mouth slowly, making sure not to move too much so you don't make a 'suspicious' sound.

"Ha-huh? I'm, fuck, I'm in here. Getting... espresso beans." Your brain is a jumbled mess and you're honestly surprised you were able to get the words out semi-coherently.

"Uh... okay? Grab some milk as well when you're done." You hear light steps walking away from the door and Taehyung can finally let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding.

"You're okay? Does it hurt?" Behind the thick haze of desire in his eyes, there's worry. You'd feel thankful if not for the sharp pain curling around your lower abdomen and shooting through your body.

"Hurts, Oppa... Please move." He was so big inside you and every time you shifted he was pressing against a new spot that you didn't even know existed. Not only that, but the tip of his cock was prodding at your cervix and you needed him to move.

He follows your commands almost immediately as if he was waiting for those exact words, leaning you back against the door completely before pistoning his hips into you at a rate you would not describe as leisurely.

Taehyung's fucking into you with enough force that each thrust has you sliding up and down against the door, accompanied by the door rattling quietly every time he pulled out and trusted back in. Your nails dig helplessly into his back as you let out wanton moans against his neck, an almost fruitless attempt at trying to stay quiet.

"So tight and warm. Feel so good inside you." Taehyungs lets out an airy moan, his breath fanning against your ear every time he fucked into you. "So loud, too. You want, hnng, want for them to catch us?"

One of Taehyung's hands finds itself in your hair, pulling your head back roughly so you were looking back at him with dazed eyes. The action almost felt intimate, the way he was staring at you with so much hunger as he drilled you against the door, the way his eyes dropped down to your mouth as you bit your lip to suppress a moan.

"More, more! Ha-ah, Taehyung, I'm about- gonna-" The words stumble from your mouth breathlessly and Taehyung lets out a mix between a growl and a laugh, pulling your hair to the side so your neck was fully exposed for him.

"So bad, so demanding. Did you forget my name? Already?" Taehyung presses faint kisses to your jaw before trailing lower. You plead when Taehyung sucks a light hickey into your neck, licking it over as if to soothe it. "Don't you dare come."

It's an order but his cock is filling you up so nicely, squeezing against every single one of your erogenous zones even when he was simply pulling out to thrust back in. He's pulsing inside you and you can practically feel him in your throat. How does he expect you not to come??

"Oppa! Oppa, please! Fuck, I'm- I can't hold it-" You tried your best to hold off but you were fighting a losing battle. His cock was abusing that special spot inside you, pounding it with every move of his hips and it was exactly that that pushed you over the edge. Well, that and the feeling of him sucking constant hickeys into your collarbone.

"Ileon jenjang..." Taehyung whines as you tighten around him. White blotches cloud your vision as your orgasm curls in your abdomen and washes over you like a wave. "Wanna finish inside... wanna fill- fill you up... want it so bad... but can't."

Taehyung's words become less coherent and start to switch between English and Korean the closer he gets until he's pulling out and breathlessly instructing you to get on your knees, still pumping himself quickly as you follow the order.

"Wanted- wanted to come on that pretty face as soon as I seen- saw you this morning. Shibal! Open your- open your mouth, jagi." Post orgasm bliss was still thrumming through your body as you looked up at Taehyung through your eyelashes. His teeth were clenched tightly, a low growl escaping from his throat as he looked down at you and pumped himself faster, harder.

The picture of Taehyung throwing his head back, opening and closing his mouth with inaudible moans as he squeezed his cock harder is one you'll never forget. Even if you wanted to.

Ropes and ropes of translucent, sticky cum shoot at your face, some of it landing on your lips and cheeks but most of it landing on your tongue. You make a satisfied sound when you swallow it all down, licking away the excess on your lips.

"Fucking sexy." Taehyung laughs, patting the top of your head gently before gripping your chin and pulling you up in a deep kiss. You'd be lying if you said it didn't catch you off guard. Guys never usually kissed you after coming in your mouth. The way his tongue works has your body flushing and your head thoughtless. You let out a quiet moan into his mouth.

When Taehyung's lips separate from yours, a string of saliva is the only thing still connecting you and your legs suddenly feel weak again. You and the taller man stare at each other for what felt like hours, just examining how wrecked you two were.

"Ah, the time! We're leaving now. I should leave first." Taehyung is the first to pull away, using his thumb to wipe away any of the clear substance still lingering on your face. You pull your lips into a slight pout before soothing your skirt down with your hands. Having sex with an idol, you knew it'd end like this but you were still allowed to be disappointed.

"I don't want manager-nim to find out this happened. It can be our little secret. Here." Taehyung rustles through his pants and hands you his phone. You're confused. What does he want you to do with his phone?

After a beat of silence and you holding his phone idly, he finally speaks.

"Your number."

"Seriously?" You raise your eyebrows, shocked.

"Seriously. If I visit here again, I'll call. We can meet." He fixes his pants and adjusts his clothes to look less sloppy, less like he just had the best sex of his life.

"There's so much else I want to do to you."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[the-bau-quinjet]

Nervous

Hello! This is honestly just a bunch of fluff (a tiny bit of angst bc Spencer worries about everything) and the reader being very nervous! I am currently writing a sequel to take place directly after this one! Read part two here!

Summary: Reader is arrested by the BAU! Little do they know, she is dating the one agent who is currently on medical leave...

warnings: none!

Word Count: 4954

“Are you sure you can pick her up today?” You are currently running around your apartment, phone held to your ear with your shoulder. You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, but first you have to drop your daughter off at school, and you’re running very late.

 “Babe, yes. I’m almost completely healed and I don’t go back to work until tomorrow. I’ll pick her up after school and then meet you at your apartment when you’re done working. Okay?” Thank God for Spencer Reid. He has been on medical leave for 5 days, slowly going insane. But, it meant more time for you and Lily to spend with him, so you’re not complaining.

“That’s perfect, thank you so much! I gotta go, I love you!” You are in such a daze, you don’t stop to think about the three words that just came out of your mouth. You hang up before Spencer can respond as you wrestle with your six year old to put shoes on. Grabbing both of your coats, you run out the door.

 You met Spencer Reid 9 months ago when he came into the hospital you work in with a concussion and some pretty bad bruises. It was really a chance meeting. Normally, you don’t even deal with patients because you work in research. But, your best friend asked you to run some lab results to a patient’s room and you couldn’t say no. Dr. Spencer Reid happened to be that patient.

 He wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but apparently something happened with the CT schedule, and he was done earlier than expected. So, instead of simply dropping off forms in an empty room, you hit a man with a door. Why he was standing behind the door is still a mystery to you, but you felt awful. This man is in the hospital and to make matters worse, you come along and hit him! With a door! You offered to get him some coffee as an apology, and in his concussed state he said “Only if we can go together.” You’ve since realized that was smoother than he normally acts, but you don’t care. He is the most lovable man you’ve ever met. 

 You met up for coffee three days later, and have been dating ever since. He met your daughter, Lily, on the second date. They clicked instantly. You knew then and there that you would love this man forever. You have not, however, actually said I love you before this morning. But, you’re still in too much of a rush to stop and think about it… or even realize it happened.  

 You pull into the parking garage at the hospital 7 minutes late. Honestly, better than you expected. The morning flies by as you work on research grants and hospital studies. All in all, a pretty average day. That is, until you walk back into the building from your lunch break.

 You don’t get a lot of visitors in the research wing, so it’s strange to see two pretty official looking individuals at the front desk. It’s even stranger to hear your name come out of one of their mouths.

 “Hi there. We are Agents Morgan and Rossi from the FBI. We’re looking Ms. Y/N L/N. Is she here?” That must have been Morgan talking.

 Spencer has told you a lot about his team. You feel like you know them all already with how many stories he’s told you. You��ve been hesitant to meet them though because of Lily. You don’t want her to get too attached to him and his friends if things were to go sideways. You haven’t really dated anyone since her father, so you’re a bit nervous. Spencer, of course, completely understands. He just wants you to be happy. It’s hard not to love him even more at the thought.

 You are immediately thrown into a panic at the sight of the two agents. Your thoughts are running wild with possibilities. They must be here because something happened to Spencer. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not even working today.

 Your panicked train of thought pulls to a stop when the two agents walk up to you. “Ms. L/N? Can we speak with you for a moment?” You nod, leading them toward your office.

 “Of course. My office is just down the hall.” You can’t help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Spencer’s coworkers without him. Especially if it has to do with a case they’re working. These are the people he loves most in the world. They are his family. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re an idiot? What if they think Spencer can do better? It also doesn’t help that you know they can tell you’re nervous because you know they are profilers. You sit down behind your desk, offering them the seats on the opposite side.

 “Ms. L/N, you’re in charge of the research department, correct?” Rossi says it like a question, but he clearly knows the answer.

 “That’s right.” You are trying everything you can to get your nerves to settle, but it just isn’t working. You’re basically lying to two human lie detectors, even if it is just by omission.

 “So if items were to go missing from this laboratory, you would be responsible for reporting it.” It was Morgan who spoke this time. It’s hard for you to follow their line of questioning. What would go missing? It’s not like you wouldn’t notice if a fume hood suddenly disappeared.

 “I suppose so, although it depends on what items. We don’t have a specific inventory of commonly used products like syringes and gauze, we just order more when we get low.” You can’t decide which agent to focus on. Your eyes are flicking nervously between both of them.

 “What about human tissue?” When the words come out of Morgan’s mouth, you freeze for just a second. You don’t have any human tissue in the lab, so how would it go missing? Of course, the profilers take the delay in your response to mean something other than confusion.

 “We- we don’t use human tissue in this specific laboratory. We focus on small animal models. The other research lab is responsible for human tissue protocols.” You stutter through your words under the harsh glares of the two agents. It is really not helping your nerves.

 “Then how do you explain this?” Rossi slides a paper across your desk. It’s housed in a large plastic bag with “EVIDENCE” across the top in big, block letters. It’s a form you have never seen before. The kind someone would fill out to transfer human tissue between labs. Your hands shake as you hold the paper, slowly trying to figure out what it is. You almost puke when you reach the bottom. It has your signature as an approval of the request. You drop the paper as if it has burned you.

 “I’ve never- I didn’t- how did-” You’re cut off before you can try to finish your sentence, but you don’t hear what they are saying. You feel the cold click of metal around your wrists, tight enough to just pinch your skin. They lead you back out of the building, to a waiting SUV. You can’t help but be grateful that nobody was there to witness your arrest.

 The ride to Quantico is silent. You keep trying to figure out how someone could have signed your name on that form, but you can’t focus. Your mind keeps drifting to memories with Spencer.

 You remember your first date in the coffee shop a block away from the hospital. He ordered a black coffee only to pour in an exorbitant amount of sugar. He blushed slightly, as if he was embarrassed by his drink preferences, only for his features to transform into a soft smile as you did exactly the same thing. The two of you talked for hours, only ending the date when you had to go pick up Lily.

 You remember running into him in the park with Lily, what you would come to refer to as your second date. He looked ethereal sitting at a table playing chess. Lily ran up to him, or rather the chess board he was sitting in front of, before you could stop her. She wanted to know what the horsey was for. You watched as he patiently explained to the five year old that it was a knight responsible for defending the king. 

He told her how it moves on the board. He told her how it was special because it is the only piece that can jump over other pieces. He must have spent 15 minutes talking to her about this one piece. And she was enthralled. When he was done, he looked around to find the child’s parents only to meet your eye. You’ll never forget the way his smile grew when he realized Lily was yours. The three of you spent the rest of the day in the park, playing chess, walking around the pond, and getting to know each other.

 You remember the look in his eyes right after he kissed you the first time. You remember how worried you were the first time he was injured on a case. You remember Lily asking you if he could be her daddy, and crying yourself to sleep that night because you wanted that too, more than anything, and you were so scared it wasn’t going to happen.

 Then you finally remember he’s picking Lily up from school today. Suddenly, the car ride isn’t so quiet anymore.

 “I need to call someone.” The words come out frantic and rushed. You are absolutely sure the expression on your face screams crazy, but this is about your kid, so you really don’t care. You need to call Spencer. Then he’ll come fix this. Explain how you couldn’t possibly be involved. The agent’s response is shorter than you expected.

 “Why?” Rossi sounds skeptical when he asks it. You would later suppose that he had a reason to be skeptical of you. Right now though? You didn’t do anything wrong so the whole innocent until proven guilty thing feels a little fake to you at the moment.

 “My boyfriend is picking up my daughter from school. I need to call him.” You don’t really know how to tell them said boyfriend is one Dr. Spencer Reid. You weren’t supposed to meet his friends yet and definitely not without him. You aren’t really in the right headspace to be deciding if right now is the best moment to out your relationship.

 “If he’s already planning on picking her up, you shouldn’t need to call him.” It feels to you at this moment that they don’t even believe you have a child. Of course, they must know because they have the one and only Penelope Garcia to find out every little thing about you. Before you can say anything else, they are dragging you out of the SUV and into the building. You are pushed through security into an elevator that takes you to the fifth floor. The BAU. You thought the first time you visited Spencer’s work would be a happier occasion. And that he would be here. The whole situation would actually be kind of funny if you weren’t so worried and nervous.

 The first thing you say when you are lead through the very intimidating glass doors is “JJ.” You would come to understand why that might earns some stares. The whole room is looking at you as if you have grown another head.

 “How do you know my name?” That’s a loaded question. Spencer has showed you pictures of his godson, Henry. JJ happened to be in some of those pictures as he is in fact, her son. Of course, you can’t really articulate that because you are too stressed and nervous to form full sentences. It takes a lot out of a person to be arrested, dragged from their place of work, shoved in a car, driven two hours through DC traffic, and then pulled into the FBI building as a suspect.

 Instead of properly calming yourself down until you can form a complete sentence, your eyes go wide and you say “Henry” as if that is enough of an explanation. If looks could kill, you would be dead.

 “How do you know my son’s name?” JJ’s words are so harsh, you physically flinch.

 “I.. it’s just that… You… Well… I-” You are a loss for words, yet again. You didn’t expect for Spencer’s best friend to ever look at you with such disgust. It’s honestly a little overwhelming to think the people he calls family all currently hate you. Even if they don’t really know who you are.

 “Maybe a few hours in here will jog your memory.” And with that you’re left alone to sit in a cold metal chair and stare at your reflection.

 --

 Throughout your relationship, Spencer has tried not to worry. You frequently come home from work a bit later than you originally planned, especially if you feel like you got a late start. So, when you don’t enter your apartment right at 5:30, he doesn’t think anything of it. When 6:00 rolls around, he texts you. At 6:30 he calls. By the time it reaches 7:00 and he still hasn’t heard from you, he’s actively pacing your small living room. When his most recent call goes to voicemail, he breaks. He packs up Lily’s stuff and the two of them are on the way to Quantico, finding you being the only thing on his mind.

 He replays his favorite moments with you in his mind as he drives from your DC apartment to Quantico. Normally, he’d take the metro, but if you really are missing it’s safer for Lily in the car.

He remembers the look on your face when you realized you hit him with a door. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful person. You looked so guilty, he felt the need to hug you to tell you it was okay. It was a foreign feeling for him. He’s never been one to physically comfort people. Maybe it was the concussion. It was definitely the concussion that gave him the courage to ask you to coffee.

 He remembers the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he watched you pour almost as much sugar as him into your coffee. The soft smile on your face as the two of you spent hours talking about anything he could think of to keep the conversation from ending.

 He remembers the utter joy he felt upon realizing the five year old who inquired about the horsey on the chess board is your daughter. He remembers how he felt when he looked up, expecting to find an annoyed parent given that he just lectured a five year old on one chess piece for 15 minutes, but was instead met with your kind smile and loving eyes. He loves Lily just as much, if not more than he loves you.

 He remembers how you hung up the phone this morning before he could say “I love you too.” And now the thoughts he’s tried so hard to block out are circling in his mind. The words repeating in his head, over and over. What if I never see her again? What if I can’t tell her I love her?

 He pulls into the garage, carrying Lily so he can run faster into the building. He puts her down when they finally reach the elevator. She’s been surprisingly calm despite Spencer’s nervous attitude.

 “Spencie, where is Momma?” Spencer’s heart constricts at the sound of her sweet voice. He doesn’t know where you are, and it terrifies him.

 “We are going to find out! How would you like to see my desk? You can play with the cube I showed you at home!” He pulls a Rubik’s cube out of his satchel, placing it in Lily’s small hands. He guides Lily to his desk, telling her to stay there while he looks for his friends. She looks so tiny in his desk chair, he would stop to take a picture if his phone had that feature.

 He finds the team in the round table room. His eyes scan the room, landing on JJ’s concerned expression last. He’s surprised to find Will in the room as well. JJ notices him before anyone else.

 “Spence, thank God you’re here. We need fresh eyes.” Before he can protest, Morgan is filling him in on the events that have unfolded.

 “We brought a suspect in from DC, and she knew JJ.” Spencer’s eyes go wide. If the team is in trouble, that could be why Y/N was taken.

 “When I asked her how she knew me, her only response was ‘Henry.’ Something doesn’t add up.” Movement in the doorway catches everyone’s eye.

 “Spencie, did you find Momma yet?” Lily stands in the doorway, looking straight at Spencer.

 “Not yet sweetheart. I have some cookies in my bag, why don’t you go back to my desk and eat them, okay?” 

“Can I have two?” The little girl holds up two of her tiny fingers, unaware of the confused glances from every adult in the room that isn’t Spencer. 

“Of course, sweet pea. Whatever you want. You can even spin around in my chair!” The child nods before running back to Spencer’s desk. Spencer turns around to find all eyes on him. The entire team wears similar expressions of shock and awe.

 “Spencie?” Derek questions the nickname.

 “Sweetheart?” JJ’s more focused on how Spencer responded.

 “Who the heck was that 'sweet pea’ and why have you kept her from me?” Garcia is glaring at Spencer for hiding such a cutie pie from her for however long.

 “She’s why I’m here. Well not her, her mother. We’ve been dating for the last 9 months. I picked up Lily from school today. We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, but she never came home. She’s not answering my calls and I don’t know where she could be.” Spencer breaks down as he tries to explain what’s going on. He can’t imagine a world without you in it.

 “Reid, give Garcia her phone number to track her location. This could all be related to our case. If someone is targeting the BAU, we will find them.” Hotch’s no nonsense tone calms everyone in the room. Again, movement in the doorway catches everyone’s attention.

 “Sir, she keeps saying she can explain everything. I know you said 3 hours, but I think she’s ready now.”

 “Thank you, Anderson. We’ll be right there.” The agent leaves without another word. Hotch turns back to continue filling Spencer in on the case. “Reid, we’ve got a suspect in custody. She doesn’t match the profile, but we think she knows something.”

 “She mentioned a boyfriend in the car. He might know something too.” Morgan pipes in as well.

 “I want to talk to her. If she knows where Y/N is, I have to talk to her.” Spencer is out of the room before anyone can stop him. He’s practically running across the bullpen to get to the interrogation room.

 “Y/N?” Morgan questions to the agents left in the round table room.

 --

 You are so cold. They must have the air turned down to put you on edge. You have finally calmed yourself down enough to form actual sentences instead of useless mumbling.

 “Please. Let me explain! I can tell you everything. Well, not everything, because I don’t know how my signature ended up on that paper, but I can tell you about JJ! And Henry! Let me explain!” You never thought about how weird it would be to know someone could be watching your every move. You feel like you’re talking to nobody as you beg for them to let you explain.

 The door flies open with so much force, you fall out of your chair in shock. There are hands on you, pulling you to your feet before you’ve even registered hitting the ground.

 “Where is sh- Y/N?” Spencer’s tone of voice changes so quickly your brain can’t follow. You just look into his before you burst into tears.

 “Oh thank God. Spencer, I was so scared. I was so nervous when Derek and Rossi came to interview me. I didn’t want them to hate me, you know? Even though they didn’t know who I was. And then I saw JJ, and I got even worse. I mean, she’s your best friend! And she sounded so angry, which was my fault, but I couldn’t even form words to explain myself because I was so sure these people- the people you consider family- were going to hate me and I made everything so much worse. But I-” Spencer knows if he doesn’t cut you off, you’ll ramble endlessly. It’s always like that when you spend too much time alone. As if all the energy you could’ve spent talking to someone pours out of you all at once.

 “Shh, baby, it’s okay. We can explain everything. I’m so happy to see you. To know you’re okay. God, I love you too.” You turn your tear stained face to look up at him.

 “Wha- oh my God. I said that. I didn’t even realize I said it. But it’s true. I love you so much. I can’t imagine a world without you. That’s why I was so nervous about meeting the team. And they wouldn’t let me call you, so I couldn’t ask you what to do.” The two of you continue trying to fill each other in on what has lead you to this moment.

 Hotch and JJ make their way into the room without either of you noticing. They both sit down before either speaks. “Reid, I’m going to need you to leave the room.” Spencer turned around with you still in his arms, your head pulled tight to his chest. He glares at his boss before responding. “No. She didn’t do this. The dates from the case file you gave me, they don’t line up. April 17th, we watched the new episode of Doctor Who and spent the rest of the night discussing theories. April 20th, we went to dinner to celebrate Lily’s sixth birthday. April 22nd we watched Tangled with Lily until she fell asleep and then we…” He trailed off, turning a bright shade of pink. You wiggled in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face as well.

 “Spence, where’s Lily?” You know he needs to leave if you are ever actually going to get out of this room.

 “She’s at my desk. She looked so tiny in my chair.” He practically has heart eyes as he thinks back to where he left your little girl.

 “Why don’t you go tell her you found me? I’ll be okay.” You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes as you sit back down in the cold metal chair. Spencer looks as though he would rather read Twilight again than leave you, but he reluctantly walks out of the room.

 You start rambling before the agents get a chance to ask you a question.

 “I’m so sorry. I’ve probably wasted so much of your time. I just freaked out when I realized I was meeting Spence’s family. That’s why I know your son’s name.” You turn slightly to look at JJ. “He talks about him all the time, and he’s shown me pictures. I’m so so sorry that you had to worry about your child’s safety because of me. I was just nervous to meet you. That’s why I haven’t met you yet actually. Because I didn’t want Lily to get too attached if something happened and we broke up. Not that I can imagine breaking up with Spencer. I would spend the rest of my life with him if he gave me the chance.” You can feel the tears brimming again. “I really don’t know why my name is on that paper. I never would have signed it! My lab doesn’t use human tissues.” You try to stress that point.

 “Ms. L/N, we believe you. We never thought you were responsible, but it was a suspicious situation. You can never be too careful in our line of work.” Hotch still looks extremely serious, but his tone is slightly more relaxed than when he threw you into this room.

 “Of course. I would’ve thought I was guilty if I didn’t know the truth. Is there anything I can do to help?” You are so relieved to know they don’t think you’re a crazy murderer.

 “We need to ask you a few questions about the people who work in your lab.”

 “Oh. Okay.” You have to actively force yourself not to start rambling again.

 “Do you know any of these people?” The agent shows you three pictures of young women. They couldn’t be more than 25.

 “No…” You can’t put your finger on it, but they look familiar.

 “But?” JJ encourages you to continue.

 “I’m not sure. They look familiar for some reason.” All three women have brunette hair and green eyes. Their face shapes are even shockingly similar.

 “Do you know anyone who looks like these women?” You don’t know how they know that, but you do. They’ve planted the seed, and it instantly grew into a massive oak.

 “I do! Her name is Renee. Um... Renee Watkins. She works in the hospital, in the lab where they run blood tests.” You look at the agents with hope in your eyes. Maybe now they’ll let you leave. They both stand up without saying anything else. Hotch leaves first. JJ stares at you for a minute.

 “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, you’re his best friend. If you hate me, we won’t work. He cares about all of you way too much for me to get in the way of that.” You honestly still feel awful about the unnecessary fear you’ve caused her and her family.

 “He cares about you too. He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in years. I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to push him.” You can’t keep your smile off your face at her words. “Let’s forget about all of it. I’m just going to focus on the relief of knowing nobody is after my son.”

 “Thank you. I really am so sorry though.” You feel the need to keep apologizing.

 “Really, it’s fine. Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 JJ leads you back to the bullpen. Right as you turn the corner, you can spot Spence playing with Lily and Henry. He’s captivated their attention with a magic trick.

 “He’s so good with them.” Almost involuntarily, your hand brushes over your stomach.

 “He’s always wanted to be a father.” JJ eyes your hand before giving you a rather pointed look.

 “Oh! No, I’m not pregnant.” You let your arm fall back to your side. “He’s just so good with Lily; she asked me if he could be her dad.” You can feel the tears coming again. “I just know that one day I will have that man’s babies.” JJ snorts and suddenly the two of you break out laughing. Your laughter makes enough noise to capture Spencer’s attention, two little pairs of eyes following his lead. All three of them are suddenly running across the room to you and JJ.

 Lily jumps into your arms, much as Henry does to JJ. You pull her close, leaning into Spencer as his arms circle around you both. The moment is interrupted when Penelope Garcia comes running into the room.

 “I’ve got him. Shane Harrison, 28. He dated Renee Watkins in high school. He was recently fired from his position in the human tissues lab at Children’s National Hospital. There are reports of him breaking in, although nothing was reported stolen due to falsified transfer documents.”

 “What made him start killing?” Morgan asks while you and JJ desperately cover the children’s ears.

 “Renee recently got engaged. She posted all about her new fiancée on social media. I already texted you the address.” JJ says a rushed goodbye to Will and the team is out the door. Lily runs back over Spencer’s desk with Henry so she can show him the Rubik’s cube.

 “Aren’t you going to help them?” You turn to Spencer who hasn’t left your side.

 “I think they can manage this one without me. I’m needed somewhere else at the moment.” As if to prove his point, he leans in to kiss you. It’s short and sweet and everything you needed at the moment.

 The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you out of your bubble.

 “Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. I’m sure the Genius Doctor has told you all about me.”

 “He has indeed. You’re even lovelier in person.” Garcia is just as bright and bubbly as Spencer described her. It makes you smile to think that the team has her never ending positivity while they are surrounded by so much darkness.

 “We are having a team gathering at Rossi’s tomorrow night. You should both come. And Lily!” Garcia smiles again before walking away.

 “You know that means we have to go, right?” Spencer asks you the obvious question.

 “I know honey. You’re afraid of what Garcia could do to you if you get on her bad side.” You laugh at his pout, pulling him down the stairs and over to Lily. It’s about time you all head home.

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 1}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A/N: Fun fact about this one, y’all. I wrote the first chapter over 3 years ago and it was for a completely different story. This one has evolved on it's own and Tara and I are so excited to finally share it with you.

Word Count: 3493

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Zeus

– King of the gods and ruler of Mount Olympus; god of the sky, lightning, thunder and law.

The waves lapped against the sand as Aelin sighed. Strong hands rubbed the muscles in her back and worked out the kinks in her neck as the warm sun heated her body. The smell of the salt water filled her senses and she settled into the cushioned chaise. Another set of hands set a fruity looking drink with a little pink umbrella on the table next to her head. She smiled at it.

“Can we get you anything else, miss?”

Aelin opened her mouth to tell them exactly what they could do to her.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Aelin’s eyes snapped open and she glared at her phone, chiming at her to get up.

She groaned, reaching for the offending device and silenced it, pulling her pillow over her head. She began to doze back off when her bedroom door flew open, smacking into the dresser on the wall behind it. She sat bolt upright and found her roommate leaning against the doorframe, a bowl of cereal in her hands and a gleam of mischief in her emerald eyes.

“Rise and shine, princess,” Lysandra drawled. Aelin just continued to scowl at her roommate. The bright warmth of the sun in her dream faded away as she looked out the window. Ice coated it and she could see a fresh layer of snow coated everything. “Aedion is about to be up, too. If you’d like any chance of taking a warm shower before class today, I’d suggest-.”

She was up and in the hallway before Lysandra could even finish her sentence.

Thirty minutes later, she sat on the kitchen counter, hair wrapped up in a towel, eating an apple and going over her schedule for the thousandth time. Her four classes were split into two days each, mercifully giving her Friday off.

Her cousin, long golden hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, came into the kitchen, pulling the jug of milk out of the fridge. He leaned on the counter across from her and drank straight from the plastic bottle, glaring daggers at her.

“Can I help you with something,” she asked him sweetly.

“You used the last of the hot water,” Aedion sulked, taking another swig.

She looked over, blowing him a quick kiss. “Maybe you should have gotten up earlier.”

He rolled his eyes, identical to her own, and came over to look at her computer screen. “What classes do you have this semester?”

She scrolled down the list, reading them off. “Pathophysiology, Caring for the Childbearing Family, Health and Gerontology, a few labs, and Mythology.”

Aedion’s eyebrows pulled together as she read the last one. “That doesn’t seem like it will be very helpful to a nurse.”

She shrugged, closing the laptop and sliding off the counter. “I needed one last elective. I’ve always been interested in Greek and Roman mythology and it’s a freshman level class. I figured why not study something for fun for once?”

He couldn’t fault her logic and began pulling ingredients out of the fridge to cook breakfast as Aelin headed back towards her bedroom. “Whatever you’re cooking, make two,” she called over her shoulder. She didn’t even need to look back to know the obscene gesture being flicked in her direction.

-------------------

Aelin was regretting studying something fun for once as she looked at the map of her classes.

All of her classes, save for one, were in the nursing building. Of course, that one other class was all the way across campus, in one of the general education buildings. At least walking there would take her right past her favorite coffee shop on campus and with an eight am every Tuesday and Thursday morning, she knew she’d take full advantage of that.

Thankfully today was a Monday, so she’d be spending the entirety of her day in the nursing building. But first, she had to have coffee. The first day of the semester required coffee.

Aelin parked in one of the student lots close to the nursing building. Throwing her leather bag over her shoulder, she slammed her car door. It was absolutely freezing and she suppressed a growl as she saw soft white flakes drifting toward the ground.

What a great way to start off the semester, she thought.

She made her way across campus, hands deep in her pockets and face buried in her scarf. As she crossed the quad, she pulled her phone out to check the time. She still had about twenty minutes to get coffee and get to class. Snow crunched under her boots as she picked up the pace, wanting to be sure she made it on time. Aelin was big on first impressions.

As she approached the door of the café, she reached for the handle, but the door swung open suddenly, slamming into her and knocking her off her feet.

The young girl, eyes wide, apologized profusely but said that she had to get to class and ran off. Aelin was mumbling something about where the freshman could go, when she heard a deep chuckle and a tan, tattooed hand appeared in front of her face. She glanced up and the air was pulled from her lungs.

The owner of the hand was a handsome man in his mid-twenties, with hair the color of the snow swirling around his head and green eyes. Not emerald like Lysandra’s, but deep and rich like a pine tree. A tattoo, similar to the one on his hand, snaked up his neck and onto his face. She’d be willing to bet it ran down the whole length of his arm. She’d love to find out for herself. He smiled at her, a wicked, beautiful smile. She could only stare at the gorgeous stranger as she gripped her hand in his. He lifted her to her feet.

“You okay?” He asked. Aelin nodded, pulling her hand out of his. He opened the door and motioned for her to go ahead of him. She stepped into the delicious warmth and immediately got her wits back.

“I’m Aelin,” she said, giving him a man eater’s smile.

“Rowan,” he said, a slight incline of his head in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, Rowan,” she said, letting his name slip out of her lips like a purr, as she’d heard Lysandra do it to her cousin many times. She knew it drove Aedion crazy and for some reason, that’s exactly what she wanted to do to this man. She walked to the line. He got in line behind her and she pulled out her phone, figuring that would be that. A bit of shameless flirting with a stranger was never a bad thing. She ordered her coffee and was surprised when the barista handed her the paper cup, a phone number written on the side. She quirked an eyebrow at the girl, who gave Aelin a knowing glance and looked over her shoulder. Aelin turned around, meeting a pine green gaze, and smiled at him. She headed back out into the frost and snow, pulling her phone out to snap a picture of the cup to send to Lysandra, knowing her best friend would love this.

Finding the classroom in the nursing building where she’d spent the bulk of the past two years was a breeze and she made it into the classroom with seven minutes to spare. She enjoyed her time with Professor Hafiza in the fall and anticipated she’d like her this semester again, too. Nonetheless, she settled in about three-quarters of the way up and looked at the coffee cup again.

Feeling bold, she entered the number into her phone and sent a quick text.

Any chance you want to sweep me off of my feet again and grab drinks later? I’m free anytime after 5:00. – Aelin.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

My last class lets out at 6:00 and I have to go to the gym afterward. How does 8:00 sound?

She typed a quick reply and placed her phone back on her desk.

Sounds like a date. The Beer Cellar, on Church Street.

She smirked to herself and glanced down at her watch. 9:58. Not even 10:00 am and the semester was off to a great start.

She unlocked her phone, shooting a quick text to Lysandra, letting her know about her new plans for the evening when she heard the door open and students started to hush.

It wasn’t the most exciting class, Aelin had to admit, but she supposed the information was necessary. Hopefully it wasn’t an indication of how the rest of her semester would go. She needed a little excitement in her schedule, that was for sure.

Aelin liked to be kept on her toes.

After two classes and a crappy salad for lunch from the school cafeteria, Aelin was hurrying across campus and down the street, toward her apartment. Lysandra was nowhere to be found, which meant she was either snuggled up with Aedion somewhere or still in class. Aelin’s bet was on the former.

After organizing her deskspace, Aelin went to her closet, and attempted to pick out what she should wear for the night. It was her first date of the semester, which either meant that it could be a complete win or a complete fail.

She ultimately decided that the sluttier the better.

Laying the gold dress out on her bed, she let herself into the Lysandra’s room, borrowing a pair of strappy black heels she knew her roommate would absolutely approve of and was back out the door, ready to suffer through her first lab of the semester. Three hours was going to drag by, but thankfully, it was only once a week.

And drag by it did, but Aelin wasn’t sure if it was thanks to the monotonous recap of her previous semester’s information or thinking about seeing Rowan again. She usually wasn’t so forward, even though Rowan had clearly been the one to start it all, giving her his number. But still, she typically would have at least waited a day or two before texting him.

But there was just something about him that she couldn’t get out of her head.

She grabbed her gym bag out of the car, thankful she had a bit of time to get a work out in before she went out. Thanks to tonight, Aelin was a pent up ball of energy and needed to get it out someway. After a solid forty-five minutes on the treadmill and nearly thirty on the free weights, Aelin was heading for the locker room when she noticed a silver head of hair across the gym.

She watched him as he pulled himself up on the bar, his chin going over the piece of metal each time. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, sweat poured down his chest as his arms swelled. Aelin had been right.

That tattoo went across his chest, and all the way down his arm. He did the pull-ups so effortlessly, and Aelin’s mind began to wander to unholy places.

It wasn’t until his feet hit the mat beneath him that she was brought back to reality and hurried into the locker room. If he was here, that meant their date was approaching, and she had to get ready. She checked her phone. It was nearly seven.

Aelin hurried back home and showered. She had once vowed, during her freshman year, that she would avoid the gym showers at all costs and only used them under emergency circumstances. Luckily, her and Lysandra’s apartment was only five minutes from the gym.

After a shower and a full-body shaving session, Aelin was brushing out her long, golden hair and blow drying it until it was flowing freely down her back. She kept her makeup decently simple - at least, that’s how she made it look, and straightened the slight waves out of her hair before putting on her little, golden dress.

Once she had slipped on Lysandra’s heels, she was looking at herself in the mirror and even she had to admit that she was looking hot.

After grabbing her clutch, she hurried down the hallway and into the living room, where she found Lysandra and Aedion snuggled together on the couch, watching a movie.

“Going out with a stranger?” Lysandra asked, brow raised. “I'm so proud of you.”

“Yeah, just keep it in your pants,” Aedion mumbled.

“I thought I’d bring him back here,” she said, winking at Lysandra. “You don’t want to have breakfast together tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not,” Aedion mumbled and Lysandra chuckled, leaning into his embrace.

“Have fun, call me if you need me,” Lysandra called as Aelin blew them a kiss and headed for the door.

Her Uber was waiting when she walked out front and before she knew it, she was walking down the stairs into her favorite bar. Glancing around, she didn’t see Rowan sitting at the bar or any of the booths around the room.

So she bought herself a drink and claimed one of the pool tables, setting her coat and clutch on a bar stool nearby. Over halfway through the game, she felt eyes on her and glanced up to find Rowan standing at the other end of the table. Giving him a smirk, she knocked the cue ball into the yellow-striped 9 ball. It sank into the pocket.

“Playing with yourself?” Rowan asked, and Aelin caught a slight accent that she had missed earlier.

Aelin’s grin widened. “Well, if I’m left hanging, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.”

Rowan breathed a laugh. “Fair enough. And if I asked to join?”

“You sure you don’t just want to watch?” she asked, leaning on the table, making sure her cleavage was perfectly visible.

Rowan’s tongue shot out and subtly licked his bottom lip. “Tempting.”

Aelin pushed herself back and grabbed the rack, starting to collect the balls. “Buy me a drink and then we’ll talk.”

Rowan bit his lip to hide his spreading grin. “Fair enough. I’ll be back.”

Aelin watched as he left, watched as he went to the bar and bought her another drink, alongside one for himself. He came back with two glasses. One was the color of the sunrise, the other a caramelly brown.

“Sex on the Beach?” Aelin asked, brow raised.

He shrugged and handed her the glass. “Sounded promising.”

“So… Rowan,” she said, letting his name drag out as she said it. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and the black Henley he wore made his hair seem even brighter in the dim light of the bar.

“Aelin,” he purred right back, pulling a pool stick from the wall behind her, nearly boxing her in. She realized then how much larger than her he was.

She loved it.

“I hope your coffee helped you get through the rest of your day,” she said, resetting the game and racking the balls. She glanced at him over her shoulder as she reached into the middle of the table, and he was watching her, staring at her ass.

Slutty was definitely the right option tonight.

“It certainly did, especially considering how boring it was,” he replied, reaching around her for the chalk that rested on the edge of the table. “But when I got your text, it gave me something to look forward to. Even if it made the day last twice as long.”

“Happy I could help.” She picked her drink up and stirred it, before taking a long sip through the straw.

“Would you like to break, or should I?” He asked, nodding to the pool table.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

He grunted as he stepped forward, lined up his stick, and knocked the cue ball into the others. They broke apart, but none of them fell into the pockets. Rowan stood there for a moment, his lips pursed. Meanwhile, Aelin tossed her head back and burst into laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Rowan said, straightening up and turning to face her. “So pool isn’t my thing.”

Aelin stepped up next to him and aimed her stick, leaning over the table, her ass nearly rubbed up against Rowan’s front. “Hopefully you’re better at other things.”

Rowan’s hand brushed along Aelin’s hip, just as she got ready to shoot, causing her shot to go haywire. She spun around, eyes narrowed. “That’s foul play.”

“No one said we were playing fair,” he countered.

“What about playing for drinks?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

He lifted his own eyebrows and he said, “I’ve got an eight am…”

Shrugging, she said, “So do I.” Then she leaned in close, thankful for the three-inch heels she’d pilfered from Lysandra’s closet and breathed into his ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re up in time.”

“So sure of how this night is going to go,” he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear him, and she felt his hand skimming over the curve of her ass. “Fine. We’ll play for drinks.”

It turned out Rowan hadn’t been lying about pool not being his thing. They played three games back to back, and he lost them all, but every time he returned with a drink for Aelin, he had one for himself as well. By the time she dragged him towards the small dance floor in the center of the bar, they were both stumbling and his lips found her neck before his hands even gripped her hips.

His lips were soft, gentle, nothing like she had expected. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was just getting tired, perhaps he was usually rough.

But, when his hands found Aelin’s hips and he brought her back into him, she felt that roughness. It seemed Rowan was the best of both worlds. Gentle when prompted, rough beneath the surface.

Aelin turned to him and slung her arms around his neck, bringing his lips to hers. Their mouths crashed into one another, and their bodies slowed until it felt like they were the only two on the dancefloor.

Rowan pulled away, just a little bit, and breathed, his eyes wild, “Aelin-.”

“Take me to your place,” she said, her mouth finding his, once again.

Before she knew what was happening, they were in the backseat of an Uber, unable to keep their hands off of one another. Thanks to it being a college town, the driver didn’t say a word, just dropped them in front of an upscale building, just off the east side of campus.

She noticed how nice it was on the short elevator ride up, but was much more preoccupied by the way his hips pressed into hers. He dragged her along the hall, his lips never leaving hers, until her back was pressed against a cool door and he was fumbling to get it unlocked. It swung wide and she gripped his collar, pulling him inside.

Throwing her clutch and coat by the door, Aelin let her hands dive into his cropped silver hair and he responded by cupping her ass and lifting her up. Her legs were around his waist and he carried her through the apartment and into his bedroom. Neither of them had any delusions about how and where this would end and Aelin felt like she was going to combust as he dropped her on the bed and gazed down at her.

His eyes were full of lust, full of hunger, a wild animal with his eye on his prey. He wasted no time stripping Aelin down and admiring her body with his hands, his tongue, his lips. Rowan may not have been good at pool, but he was right when he said he was far better at other things.

He worshipped her, and Aelin knew it wasn’t the alcohol when she was sent into utter bliss.

When he rolled off of her, breath still uneven, Aelin watched as he dealt with the condom and fell back into the bed beside her.

She cleared her throat. “I can go…if you want me to.”

Rowan turned to look at her, and she could tell he was still just as drunk as she was. “What? No, of course not. You said you’ve got an eight am, too, right?” She nodded and he tugged on her hand, pulling her closer to him. They were both still gloriously naked and she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. “Then we can both make sure the other is up so we aren’t late. Or too hungover.”

Aelin snorted softly, resting her head on his chest. “I think that particular ship has sailed.”

“You’re probably right,” he mumbled and she could tell he was already starting to doze. She was on the brink of sleep herself.

Aelin decided then, as her eyes closed, that she didn’t care if she was hungover in the morning, or if she was late to her eight am. A night being praised by Rowan had been perfectly worth it.

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Three)

3.9k words - Rated M (language)

Here it is, my most favourite chapter to date, I hope you enjoy!

You smooth the skirt of your soft, black-linen sundress with shaky hands and pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re regretting not packing anything warmer than the denim jacket currently wrapped around your shoulders when you’re interrupted by the disgruntled sounds of your father calling your name through the phone speaker.

“What?” you ask, exasperated. “Sorry, I got distracted for a second.”

He repeats himself in annoyance, “I said, are you okay with staying at the hotel and ordering dinner for yourself?”

Staring at the restaurant in front of you, you debate whether or not to explain your situation to him. You realise, however, that he probably has enough to worry about after today’s events at Silverstone, and his daughter being out to dinner with another team’s driver probably won’t go over well.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I could use a quiet night in. Will you grab something to eat for yourself on your way back?”

Your dad hums, and you can tell that once he heard the confirmation that he didn’t need to get dinner for you, he lost interest in anything you had to say after the fact. It’s not difficult for you to understand why. Still, the lack of a verbal response worries you and you find it hard to evade the thoughts about Max and the accident. To most, the fact that he got out of the car and could walk was a good sign, but you’re still plagued by the various possibilities of what the hospital tests will conclude and just how bad the damage really is.

“Will you let me know if he’s okay?” you ask quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing the phone closer to your ear, as if you could hone in on the doctor’s discussions in the background to find out whether Max was going to be alright.

Your dad simply hums again. “I’ll text you when we know more, but I’ve gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, dad,” you murmur.

His quick Bye, love you is rapidly replaced with the end-of-call dial tone.

You slip the phone into your jacket pocket and take a deep breath, preparing to head inside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but clock the bright orange McLaren already stationed in the parking lot when your Uber arrived. You recognised it from a picture in the article you read when you first learned of Lando’s incident at Wembley. You’re thankful for the sign that he’s already here and you dredge up the remaining ounces of fake confidence left in your body, making an effort to quickly smooth down your hair before you open the door and enter the restaurant.

You’re immediately overwhelmed by the sheer atmosphere of elegance. Hand-painted horizons adorn the walls, encapsulated by swirling silver frames and accentuated by the small lights stationed above each piece of artwork, their job for the night to highlight the colours and shading the artist undoubtedly spent hours perfecting.

The savoury scents of garlic and soy originate in the kitchen and permeate across the premises with ease, challenged only by the rousing aroma of the stunning frangipanis adorning the entrance.

A woman you guess to be around your age approaches you with a notepad and pen in hand. She’s dressed in a black bodycon skirt with a hem that scrapes the top of her knees; her matching coloured button up shirt is tucked in smoothly. “Hi,” she greets with a small smile, “Would you like me to show you to the bar?”

“Oh, I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here,” you tell her, eyes scanning the room for Lando.

You see him before he sees you.

He’s tucked away at a table in the corner, his brown curls peaking over the top of the large menu he's studying.

“Found him, thanks,” you tell the waitress and she returns to her station as you make your way across the restaurant towards Lando.

He looks up from the menu as your figure appears in his peripherals and he shoots you a wave when you’re a few metres away. You return his gesture with a small laugh and he stands, walking to the front of the table to greet you.

“Hey,” he says, enveloping you in a one-armed hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Me too. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” you tell him, noticing the almost empty glass of beer in front of him as he returns to his seat.

“It wasn’t too long, don’t worry,” he reassures you.

The reality of the situation fails to present itself to you until you and Lando are seated silently across from one another. Your stomach is tightly wound with nerves but Lando appears just as anxious, noticeably fidgeting in his seat and frequently straightening his knife and fork. He’s dressed rather sharp compared to what you’d been treated to in the past, the blue and orange race suit discarded for a crisp white button down and black dress shorts. You wonder whether the outfit you picked out is suitable for tonight, although you cut yourself some slack. When you’d packed your suitcase on Wednesday, you’d hardly expected to spend any time outside of the Red Bull garage or your hotel room, let alone situated in a restaurant that was, now very obviously, out of your price range. The thought causes you to send a silent prayer to whoever would listen that you had enough in your spending account to pay your half of the final bill tonight.

The woman who greeted you earlier approaches the table to ask what drinks the two of you would like to order.

Lando asks for a cola and you look at him in confusion.

“You’re not going to have another one?” you ask him as he hands over his empty beer glass.

“No, I’m not a big drinker,” he replies, “Especially not during the season.”

“So why did you invite me to have drinks then?” you ask, clearly amused. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Lando Norris?”

He laughs, and raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey! No, nothing like that. I just don’t really drink, I never have.”

“Yeah I kinda noticed that actually,” you tell him. “Even on your podiums you don’t drink the champagne.”

“I thought you didn’t watch Formula 1?”

You wish you could wipe the stupid smirk off of his face as you practically watch the realisation form in his head. “Have you been watching my old races?”

“No,” you retort somewhat unconvincingly. “I found some highlights on YouTube though, and your podiums from Spielberg and Imola were on there.”

“My podium finish in Monaco is pretty good too. I’d be happy to show it to you sometime, though, it’s a shame that you find racing so boring.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Shut up.”

The warm glow emitting from the industrial-style bulbs resting overhead doesn’t help the blush settling on your cheeks, and neither does the grin Lando shoots you. You shrug off your jacket and place it carefully on the back of your seat just as the waitress arrives with your freshly poured Caiproska. You thank her and trace your fingers along the cool side of the glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that form in hopes that they’ll provide some sort of relief from your keen fever.

Lando’s gaze is strong enough that you feel him watching you without having to look across at him, it transcends the need for observed confirmation and instead sets your body alight merely at the thought of it. The thrum of your heart threatens to escape the confines of your chest and you stupidly pray that he doesn’t hear it as the exposed skin of your chest flushes scarlet against the dark neckline of your dress. You clasp the charm that sits at your throat, pinching it between your fingers and allowing yourself to bask in the minimal relief the cold metal provides against your warm skin.

Lando wipes his sweaty palms on his shorts and takes a deep breath. “So, that was a pretty crazy race today, huh? I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto fourth place, not with another Ferrari behind me and Daniel.”

“Yeah, it was crazy,” is all you can reply before delving back into your pocket at what you think is the sound of your phone receiving a message.

God, he thinks, he’s boring you half to death. He finally has you all to himself and the only topic he can string more than a few words together for is his job, treating you like a reporter he’s obligated to unpack his strategy for in the paddock. He doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking nervous tonight, he wasn’t nearly this wound up when he’d asked you out. Sure, it was an effort to keep his hands from shaking as he locked his car and crossed the parking lot, but he convinced himself it was just the gentle breeze passing through the city that set his flesh alight with goosebumps. He was simply excited, more than anything, to spend some one-on-one time with someone his own age, and if that someone happened to be a pretty girl, who could blame him for looking forward to it?

But then you showed up in that dress and suddenly the possibility that he’d see you out of it by the end of the night if he played his cards right became more and more realistic. His head spins at the thought of taking you home tonight. And the next night. And suddenly the thought is replaced by the images of himself coming home to you every night. After months overseas with nothing but timezone-dependent calls he returns to the comfort of your embrace, it’s your fingers that gently scrape the back of his neck as a confirmation that he’s home. It’s the warmth of your body and the lilt of no one else’s voice that cures the cavity in his chest that enveloped him the moment he shut the apartment door behind him all those weeks ago. He sees you seated on his kitchen counter, legs swinging as the coffee brews each morning, and asleep on his couch every night even after you’d promised if he let you pick the movie you’d stay awake this time.

He knows he’s in way over his head. He only just met you, what, three days ago? Yet here he sits, wishing there was some magic rule book that could explain how he could make sure his time with you never ends. He wishes he’d met you long before this week –honestly, it feels like he’s known you for much longer–so that the heat that rises underneath his shirt and the lump in his throat doesn't lend itself to the idea that he’s just some lust-fuelled boy. Your text messages make him laugh like no one else’s have before and the thought that you were watching him this afternoon, after you weren’t initially planning to stay for the race, had him feeling more confident than he has all season.

He knows he can’t tell you all that, it’s way too soon and you’ll think he’s crazy. He has to think of something interesting to talk to you about to fill the minutes before he feels it appropriate to ask you out for a second time, but instead he sits in silence as you refuse to meet his gaze. Your eyes won’t stop lingering on your phone screen, or darting around the restaurant, undoubtedly searching for distractions. Signs on the wall you could read to pass the time until the check comes, or maybe you’re searching for a saviour, a bartender to lock eyes with who’ll answer your silent plea: get me the hell out of here. He’s caught off guard when your eyes make their way back to him, his heart skips a singular beat like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He’s preparing himself to appear nonchalant in response to the immaculately crafted excuse you’re undoubtedly about to deliver in order to explain your sudden escape from his company, when a small smile forms on your lips instead.

He smiles back.

“Sorry,” he explains. “I know I talk a lot about racing. It’s kind of my whole life at the moment so it’s easy for me to get carried away.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m kind of used to it anyway. It’s basically all we talk about at the dinner table when my dad’s home.”

“Well, what do you like to talk about? I saw on your Instagram that you’re studying advertising, tell me something about that.”

You smile at his consideration and tell him all about your degree. How you’ve always had an interest in design and noticed how it could be used to turn a profit, right from when you would try your hand at creating the posters for your school’s bake sales and car washes. You tell him the story of your first paid commission for a digital advertisement, an intricately crafted Instagram post for an up-and-coming clothing boutique based in London. He asks questions in all the right places and offers his congratulations when you show him screenshots of some of your most successful work.

Conversation ebbs and flows easily throughout the night, the nerves that had you second guessing your decision to come earlier tonight eradicated. The food is tremendous, and your company even better. Your waitress returns with the final bill for the night and Lando hands his card over without hesitation.

“Hey, no,” you say. “Let me pay for my half.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “This was my way of repaying you for bringing my watch back, remember?”

Oh. That’s all tonight was for. He felt obligated to spend money on you in return for the trouble you’d gone through to return his stolen timepiece to him.

“When I talked to the police they said they could get me the money back once the guy was caught,” you stress. “So, you don’t need to do that.”

He brushes your statement off with a wave of his hand and smiles when the waitress returns with his card and a receipt.

Your mind mistakes the reverberation of champagne flutes clinking together for the chime of your text tone and you instinctively reach into your purse, hoping to see the screen alight with good news. You’d settle for any news really, so long as it meant you would finally get a clear picture of what was going on, and you could stop embellishing the details of the worst case scenario you had designed in your head.

A 51G impact like the one you had witnessed today can do a lot of damage to the body, whether visible from the outside or not, and you hoped, more than anything, that the helmet and halo were enough to protect Max from anything more than a few minor scrapes and bruises.

You’re lost in a world of nightmarish outcomes until you remember where you are. Lando’s face is contorted in a concerned frown across from you.

“Everything alright?” he asks gently.

“Yeah, sorry, I thought I heard my phone go off but it must’ve been something else.”

“It’s getting pretty noisy in here, do you want to head outside?” he offers.

“Okay.”

———

In the slight summer breeze you observe the moonlight washing across Lando’s figure, illuminating his features softly and elucidating the closeness of his face to yours. The proximity allows you to easily breathe in the pleasant cedarwood undertones of the cologne that adorns his skin, and allows him to imagine the sweet ropy flavour undoubtedly lingering on your tongue from the maraschino cherries you’d so delicately placed between your teeth throughout night.

The crinkles that form at the edges of his eyes as he meets your gaze with a smile are priceless. You wish you could bottle the feeling they give you and save it for a day you need it most.

“I had a nice time,” he tells you, practically beaming. “I can’t remember the last time I went out after a race and talked about stuff other than racing.”

“Yeah it was nice, dinner was really good too.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you stand in silence while you wait for your Uber to arrive. Lando had insisted on driving you back to your hotel but you knew his car would cause a fuss so you declined and told him you had an Uber discount code that was due to expire. You make an effort to seem fascinated by the cracks in the sidewalk and Lando acts intrigued by the streetlights, both of you dancing around the question that lingers unspoken in the air.

Are we going to meet up again?

The alert on your phone informs you that your driver is only a minute away.

“He’s almost here,” you tell Lando. “Thank you so much for paying for dinner, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay!” he insists. He shifts his weight on his feet before offering his arms to you.

You accept his invitation and hug him goodbye. You can’t help but notice the heat radiating through his thin shirt and feel his heart hammering between your two chests. His fingertips burn brands into your skin as they rest softly on your back and when he pulls back from you his hands don’t move an inch.

You catch his gaze and feel his thumb sweep softly over the fabric of your dress, underneath your jacket, before his lips meet yours in a searing kiss.

You’re caught off guard to say the least. His hands are hot on your back but his lips are soft and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t sending your head into a frenzy.

The rest of the day’s events are temporarily overruled by Lando kissing you; lying to your dad about where you are, wishing you could celebrate Lando’s fourth place finish with him in his garage, the repetitive questions aimed at you by the police that had you exhausted by mid morning, let alone Max’s accident.

Max.

And suddenly it’s not Lando’s but another pair of lips that are on yours, larger and hungrier and they come with a devastating reminder of what it’s like to sneak around with a Formula 1 driver. The lying and heartache that you remember all too clearly to feel like the kind of falling that jolts you awake from dreams.

You pull back and place your hands on Lando’s shoulders, staring down.

He’s instantly apologetic, bringing a hand through the front of his hair. “Sorry, I thought…fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, removing your hands and wrapping them around yourself. “It’s okay, um my car’s here anyway so I gotta go.”

He just nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.

The slamming of the car door feels like a hammer pounding in Lando’s head. For a moment he had you. In his hand was the opportunity to make something great out of your meeting, but he wrapped his fingers inward and crushed it in an instant.

———

When you wake the next morning, your head remains sore from the screeching of car engines throughout your eventful weekend. Though not particularly unbearable at the time, the accumulation of noise over the three days you were at the track had definitely built up.

Instinctively, you check your phone, assuming that you would be confronted with your typical notifications: a recommended Instagram account, a liked Tweet, maybe even a text. You know you’re being optimistic to expect anything from Lando, your mind refusing to stop reminding you of how awkward you had made your time together the night before. Still, you yearn for any sort of reassurement that it wasn’t as bad as your overthinking had made it out to be.

You read the time and see that it’s almost noon. You know that your dad will be out until around two o’clock, already fussing about with work related ordeals in order to have things perfect for the race in Hungary. When you eventually awaken enough to read the notifications on your phone, you find it difficult to hide your surprise as you find a text and missed call from Lando, the nervous feeling that you endured last night returns, sinking into your stomach like a stone.

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I had a really nice time last night :) Sorry if I was too forward at the end, I hope it didn’t ruin your night or anything.

Biting back a smile as you read the text, your mind is put at ease as you realise that he enjoyed himself as much as you did. You’re tempted to text him back immediately and tell him that he’s being silly, that of course he didn’t ruin your night. You wish you could explain your situation with Max and how, if it were any other night than the one your ex-boyfriend spent in hospital, you would have kissed Lando back. However, your plan to reply is thwarted as you notice the notification that informs you Lando also left you a voicemail. He must have called some time after sending his initial text message. Finger hovering over the play button, you are hopeful that it’s further kind words about your time together, or perhaps an invitation for a second ‘date’. If you could call it that. Nevertheless, you push the button.

The disappointed sigh he lets out causes your heart to stutter, before his voice crackles through the phone speaker.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry for calling, I know I already texted you and um… I hate that I have to do this but I think it would be better for you to hear it from me instead of finding out online or something. I’ve just seen that someone got pictures of us together last night. I didn’t think anyone who knew me would be there but I guess it was still close enough to Silverstone that someone recognised who I was. I’m really sorry, but if it is any help I don’t think anyone recognised you because your face isn’t really in the photos. I’m trying to get them taken down and it’s not really on Instagram or in the news or anything, but lots of people on Twitter are talking about it. If there’s anything that I can do, please let me know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen at his words, breath hitching in your throat as you process it. You replay the message over and over, as if hearing it multiple times will change the bad news Lando delivers each time. Instinctually, you close the app and scrub your hands over your face. You wonder about what exact kind of picture the photos he’s referring to imply. Does it paint a picture that could get you in trouble?

What about Lando?

Fuck.

What about your dad?

Your stomach drops at the thought of him seeing them. Getting caught lying about your whereabouts was one thing, but being caught with Lando Norris while you promised you were tucked up in the confines of your hotel room opens up a whole new world of possible consequences.

As if the universe can read your mind, it delivers your worst nightmare to you on a silver platter, piping hot and laced with venom.

A notification appears from your dad.

Call me when you’re awake.

-------

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