#we’d probably even have some left over

[1smolbean]

the whole “a submarine that costs 250k per ticket and is made up of cobbled-together parts that you can only open from the outside because it is secured by 17 deadbolts went missing while carrying several very rich people to tour the wreckage of the titanic, a ship that over 1500 (mostly working class) people died on, a ship whose wreckage should not become a tourist attraction because people fucking died there” situation that’s going on right now is just. so much in a way that i can’t really describe

[marauder-misprint]

Checked box

Sirius Black x Potter!reader

13k words

cw: fluff, little bit of snogging, pinning, hurt/comfort (I guess?)

“Black is snogging Eloise Garner in the corridor,” Mary says as she sits down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

“Bit early for a snog, isn’t it?” you ask, not looking up from your paper.

“I’d say so,” she responds, pouring herself a cup of tea.

“Isn’t that like the third girl this week?” Lily asks.

“Feels like he’s trying to at least snog every girl in our year and then some,” Marlene answers.

The group is silent for a moment as Mary, Marlene and Lily all stare at you.

“Well? Is he?” Lily asks.

“How would I know?”

“Because he is quite literally in your lap every evening?” Marlene replies. “Honestly, if we didn’t know you, we’d say you two were dating. Or at least you’d’ve been the first one he snogged.”

You make a face at that assumption. “My brother’s best friend, believe it or not, does not confide all of his life’s mission to me.”

“You’re probably one of them,” Mary giggles.

“Except I’m basically his sister!”

“Siblings don’t act like that around each other,” Lily says with a smile. 

“James!” you call to your brother who is a few seats down from the group. “Does Sirius like me romantically?”

He looks up from his Quidditch book, eyes wide.

“What? What did he do to you?”

He slams his book down and quickly walks down the table toward the girls. He crouches next to you so he wasn’t towering over you. 

“What did Padfoot do?”

You laugh at your brother. “Nothing, James. But these three,” you gesture to the girls around you, “think I’m on his to-be-snogged list. I’m not, am I?” Your words were teasing, already knowing that you weren't.

“I’ll damn ensure that you’re not,” he growls, shaking his head.

“But there is a list?” Marlene pipes up. Her eyes glitter with intrigue. 

“Not a list, per se… But he does seem to have trouble keeping to one girl for long.”

“And there you have it, folks! No real list and even if there was, I’m not on it.” You turn to look at James who doesn’t seem to be moving from where he crouches behind your shoulder. “Thanks James. You can, uh, go sit down now.”

“Oooh! Speak of the devil!” Mary chirps, looking toward the Great Hall door where Sirius was entering alone. 

“Morning, pumpkin,” Sirius says, ruffling your hair. “Girls.” 

James had waited until Sirius made it to the girls. The boys went down to their usual spots down the table. Once sat, James bursts into hurried whispers that lead to numerous glances being sent in the girls’ direction. 

“How come I can’t call you pumpkin?” Lily pouts. Of all the pet names, pumpkin was your least favorite.

You roll your eyes before answering. “He’ll be reprimanded later for that. Don’t you worry, dearest Lily.”

“Reprimanded in your sex dungeon?” Marlene gasps, a hand over her heart.

You smack her with your paper from across the table. “Don’t you start a rumor like that!”

“I could totally see you having one though!” Marlene insists. 

“What is your dominatrix name?” Lily asks, gently bumping into your shoulder. 

“You are all too horny this morning. I’ll see you in class.”

You quickly gather your things, take one last sip of coffee and leave the hall. The day seems to go on as usual for you. You sat with the girls in most of your classes. You’re glad the conversation of Sirius’ list had been left at breakfast. There are minor differences in the boys during classes. They appeared to have shuffled their seating arrangements, but it doesn’t affect you until History of Magic. You usually sit next to Sirius. Instead, you were sat next to Peter while Sirius sat on the other side of James. Peter wasn’t your favorite of James’ friends but you could tolerate him. 

There was definitely something different about Sirius in the common room after dinner. You usually hung out with her brother and his friends in the evenings. This would often lead to you sitting with Sirius on the couch, one of you draped over the other. Depending on who was sitting and who was lounging, you would play with each other’s hair or do homework or take a brief nap. You liked when Sirius would read you the assigned chapter because you otherwise wouldn’t read it. This evening, however, Sirius sat in an armchair nowhere near you. You frown as you watch him sit down and proceed to avoid your gaze. 

The altered seating arrangement and not sitting with you on the couch continues for the next few days. By Friday evening, it is driving you crazy. You need to know what is going on. You wait until most people have gone to bed before deciding to confront him. Sirius was usually one of the last people up so you knew that waiting it out would be okay. 

“Black, come ‘ere,” you say.

He looks over at you with a confused look on his face. He had been watching the fire, lost in his own thoughts. When he doesn’t move, you pat the couch cushion next to you. Reluctantly, he gets up and move to sit next to you. 

“What’s up, pumpkin?”

“What’s up with you?” you ask, your brows furrowed. “Feels like you’ve been on the other side of the Earth this week.”

He shrugs, looking back towards the fire. “Just following directions.”

“Whose directions?”

“Prongs.”

“And, pray tell, what did that idiot tell you to do?”

“To stay away from you?” he replies, obvious confusion in his voice. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose in mild frustration. “When was this?”

“Uh, earlier this week at breakfast. Made it seem like it was partly at your request?”

You shake your head. “Leave it to James to mess something up. No. He said he would make sure I didn’t end up as another checked box on your list. That would be all him.”

“Another checked box? What list is this?” Sirius asks with a slight chuckle as he looks at you. 

“The list of every girl in our year and then some,” you giggle, slightly relieved that it seems like he doesn’t have such a list. “You know, your apparent mission to kiss every one. And maybe get some.”

He quickly turns back to the fire, hoping to hide the brief look of embarrassment that crosses his face. You see it anyway and feel your face flush slightly. 

“There’s no list. And you certainly wouldn’t be a box on it if it were.”

“Ouch, Black,” you say with semi-fake hurt. “Cut me deep.”

“Please, I would be neutered if I kissed you.”

You laugh. Your laugh is enough to draw Sirius’ gaze away from the fire again. He loves seeing you smile that widely and knowing it was something he said to get you to. 

“Why were you talking about that imaginary list anyways?”

“Mary saw you snogging Eloise and apparently thought I would know if this list existed,” you say with a soft chuckle. 

“And James was a part of this conversation?” he asks in disbelief.

“Well, I called him over when the girls didn’t believe that we aren’t romantically involved, let alone never kissed.”

Sirius shakes his head with a small smile playing on his lips. “And that leads to James declaring that I need to be at least a meter away from you at all times?”

“I asked him two questions. Do you like me romantically and was I on your to-be-snogged list?” You pause. “You know, he never actually answered the first one.”

“That would be because he doesn’t know,” Sirius says, turning his head almost 90 degrees to crack his neck. “You know how much he hates being wrong… So he’s not going to give an answer if he doesn’t know if it’s right.”

“What does that mean?”

“That I don’t discuss everything with Prongs. Although, he never has asked how I feel about you.”

You chuckle and nudge Sirius with your shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend like you might have feelings for me. It’s… fine that you don’t.” The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you try to sound genuine. You would be lying if you said you never imagined things developing between the two of you. 

“Why do you assume I don’t?” Sirius asks, cocking his head as he looks at you intently.

“Why would you be snogging anything that moves in a skirt if you liked me and you’ve never made a move for me?”

“I thought we agreed that Prongs would have me neutered if I kissed you?” He takes a breath. “And maybe knowing that I could very well lose my best friend if I went after the girl I actually like is the reason I go from girl to girl. None of them make me feel like she does.”

“Wait, what?”

“There’s just more than one reason why you can’t be a checked box on this list,” Sirius says, standing up. “Goodnight, pumpkin.”

He places a gentle kiss on top of your head before heading up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. You stare after him dumbfounded. Has Sirius just essentially told you that he did like you and then leave? 

Despite knowing that he was well out of earshot, you still say, “That’s not my name.”

None of the students remaining in the common room pay you any attention as you sit on the couch alone, talking to yourself now. You slump into the cushions and take over Sirius’ habit of staring into the fire. You understand why he does it. The way that the flames dance and flicker and radiate heat is calming. 

You are distracted all weekend by what Sirius had said. You bury yourself in homework and use it as an excuse to avoid the Quidditch game. It’s Slytherin against Hufflepuff so your absence isn't insulting to James. Despite being tucked away in a distraction-free corner of the library, you make little progress on your homework. Your mind kept wandering back to Sirius and what he had said. You had worked hard to bury all of your feelings for him years ago, assuming it would never happen due to his close friendship with James. Your feelings continued to remain buried as he got closer with you and never hinted that he might like you more than a friend. 

In your dorm, you ignore the comments from Lily and Mary that for someone who spent all weekend in the library, you made such little progress on your assignments, or that they were done extremely poorly. 

On Monday, you really do try to pay attention in class, but it is futile. Even after a weekend of him on your mind, your thoughts keep drifting back to Sirius, who is in most of your classes. Even worse, you come to realize that you have no one to talk to about it so you can only let your mind spin as it had for the past two days. You think you disguise your distraction fairly well in classes until Remus grabs your hand in Potions before you can tip an ingredient into your cauldron.

“Are you trying to blow up the classroom?” he hisses at you. 

You blink at him and then look at what you had been about to pour into your brew. He is right. If you had dumped it in, your cauldron would have blown up and severely damaged those around you. You give Remus a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Remus… Been a bit distracted lately.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You give him a look. “Is it obvious?”

“You didn’t bother to apologize or clean up your spilled inkwell in Transfiguration,” he says with a soft smile. “If Lily hadn’t quickly cleaned it up for you, McGonagall would’ve given you detention.”

“Huh… I’ll have to thank her later…”

“What’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing too important,” you lie.

“If I’m almost blown up over it, it must be important.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I just don’t have anyone to talk to about it so it’s… festering.”

Remus turns back to his own potion.

“Must be quite the topic if you have no one to talk to about it.”

You scrunch your face as you add the correct ingredient to your potion, causing it to turn a pleasant blue color. 

“What does that mean?”

“You have plenty of people who care for you. And if none of us are good enough, you could probably have your pick of first years who would love to listen to your problems.”

You chew at the dead skin of your bottom lip, looking at Remus and knowing he was right.

“Don’t be mad but sometimes I forget that you are also my friend, not just James’. And that you are the most understanding person on this planet.”

He chuckles softly, not trying to draw attention to himself. “Understandable. But what is it that you feel you have no one to talk to about?”

“It’s too public in here,” you say, looking around the room. “It’s something I can’t talk to the girls about because they will all tease me endlessly if I do. And I can’t talk about it with James because we don’t really discuss that kind of stuff often and he overreacts.”

“And Sirius?”

You purse your lips. 

“Oh,” Remus says, suddenly understanding. “Let’s discuss this after class when I’m certain I’ll be in less danger of blowing up.”

Once your potions are turned in to Professor Slughorn, you and Remus leave the classroom together. Lily, Mary and James give you questionable stares as you disappear around the corner. Neither of you say a word until you are more secluded in the grounds of Hogwarts. You walk down towards the Black Lake. Anyone trying to eavesdrop would have a harder time hearing you over the sound of waves. 

“What did Sirius do?” Remus asks, sitting down and resting his back against a tree. 

Mimicking his actions, you answer, “It’s what he said when I confronted him for avoiding me all last week.”

“Wasn’t that at your request?”

“No. James is a liar.”

“Okay?”

“Long story short, Mary, Marlene and Lily…” you start to say before putting your head in your hands and groaning. “Screw that. Does Sirius like me?”

“He lets you touch his hair. Of course he likes you.”

You lift your head to look at Remus. “Does he like me as more than a friend?”

“What did he say to you?”

“I asked first.”

“I can only speak if I know what he told you.”

You sigh heavily and turn your gaze to the lake.

“Something like he’d lose James if he kissed the girl he actually likes and that’s why he’s been kissing every girl who looks his way. And then that there’s more than one reason why I can’t be another checked box on the list of girls he’s kissed.”

Remus puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“Oh, darling…”

“Remus, does he like me?”

“I believe he does.”

You whip your head towards him. “What do you mean, you believe?”

“He’s not known for pouring his heart out. You know that. He’s private with his more personal feelings,” Remus says, choosing his words carefully. “But I have eyes and ears. The way he looks at you, especially when James isn’t looking. The way he acts around you. The way he talks to you, and about you. … And he calls you pumpkin.”

You don’t say anything. You were taking it all in, although you don’t quite understand why him using that pet name held significance. You just want Remus to keep talking. 

“You know about his home life,” he continues. 

You nod. 

“I don’t think I could say all the ways it makes him the way he is. We’ve only heard snippets of it. I think there’s a lot he has walled off. And he has a found family in us. In James specifically. So he’s going to tread lightly around anything that could harm that.”

You bite the inside of your lip. You know you have been let inside some of Sirius’ walls. There were the miscellaneous late nights filled with more vulnerable conversations over the past two years. A particularly horrendous nightmare had brought Sirius to the common room to sit by the dying fire, and you had already been sitting there. You had been unable to sleep with your own anxieties. You snuggled into each other on the couch and talked until Sirius felt okay to go back to sleep. 

Even with that memory in your head, the thing you say is, “So James’ irrationality is why Sirius hasn’t made a move on me?”

“Part of it… but that’s not what you’re taking away from this conversation. There’s more than Prongs in this equation.”

You sigh and rest your chin on your hands. The sun was beginning to set and it reflects beautifully on the lake’s shimmering surface. 

“You’re also in the equation,” Remus reminds you. “Do you like him as more than a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh. 

“Remus John Lupin, I’ve been in love with him since second year.”

The moment you say that, it hits you like a brick wall. The buried emotions all bubble up and you lean back into the tree forcefully. Your head hits the trunk with a soft thud and you groan at the sudden pain. You know that you thought Sirius was cute from the moment you met him but it did take time and a little bit of maturing for you to decide that you liked him in that way. And because he is your brother’s best friend, you kept quiet about it, even to your female friends. Despite playing it off, you were bothered when you heard about him snogging another girl in the corridor. You were bothered when you heard girls giggle about how handsome he was and how they hoped he would give them attention or take them to Hogsmeade. You relish in the fact that out of every one of his friends, he chose to sit next to you in the common room night after night. And you treasured every time he let you see that vulnerable side of him that he kept so well hidden behind his bright smile and boisterous laugh and devil-may-care attitude. 

“If that’s true, why haven’t you made a move?” 

You laugh again, nudging Remus’s shoulder. 

“I thought you were the smart one of the group. He’s James’ best friend. His best friend who has never once shown an inkling of romantic interest in me. Why would I risk that level of embarrassment with someone who is obviously going to be in my life as long as I stay close with James?”

“Do you ever think that maybe he thought the same thing?”

“Rems, I…”

“Love, listen. I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t tell you for certain that he likes you. But I suggest you talk to him. Probably when James isn’t around. And if it comes to it, screw what James thinks. He just cares for you and doesn’t want to see you hurt. You are twins after all.”

You sit in silence for a minute. The crashing waves of the lake fill the air as the sun disappears over the horizon. 

“Rems, thanks for this. But we did miss dinner,” you finally say.

You stand up and hold out a hand to Remus. He takes it with a smile. He grunts as he stands up, like the old man the boys often compare him to.

“You act like we don’t know where the kitchens are…” 

After a quick stop by the kitchens for sandwiches, you enter the common room together. You are greeted by multiple versions of “There you are!” and “I told you they’d be together, I saw them leave Potions together!” It seems as if your disappearance had captured the attention of every sixth year Gryffindor. 

“You missed dinner!” James chides. 

“We grabbed sandwiches,” you say, holding up your almost finished grilled cheese. 

“What were you doing?” His eyes narrow at Remus. 

“Talking?” Remus answers, moving past James to sit by in a chair by the fire. 

You, however, feel frozen with James in front of you and the eyes of many Gryffindors on you. 

“Talking kept you from food?” Marlene asks in disbelief. “Must’ve been some conversation.”

“I’d say it was enlightening,” you say. 

“Did he teach you Lumos?” Peter asks from the couch. 

“Ha,” Remus says dryly. 

“Are you okay?” James asks you in a hushed tone as the non-sixth year Gryffindors slowly turn back to their own conversations. 

“Yes? I just needed to talk to Rem about something private.”

“Something private?” he asks, trying to get more information out of you. “With Moony? Come on, what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. God forbid a girl talks to her male friends.”

“If nothing is going on, then tell me what you were talking about.”

“You are not privy to my every conversation,” you snap.

“I am a bit when it’s with one of my best mates.”

“Your best mates are also some of my best mates, James. Learn to share.”

Your voices were increasing in volume.

“Do I need to talk to him too?” James asks, placing a hand on your shoulder which you immediately shrug off. 

“No! And I never asked you to talk to Sirius!”

Sirius looks from Remus to you to James at the mention of his name. 

“You asked if you were…”

“I asked for information. That’s all. And you have the audacity to tell him to stay away from me?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting,” you spit. “And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be from your friends.” You look over at the boys and then back at James. “If anyone needs protecting from the people you call your best mates, then you need to reevaluate the kind of company you keep.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Let me get hurt.”

You give James one last nasty look before finally being able to move your feet. You disappear into the girls’ dorms. As you walk away, you can feel eyes watching your every move. Apparently if you argue with your brother loudly, the common room is forced to give you all of their attention. Once out of sight, James collapses on the couch, refusing to look at anyone. Lily, Marlene and Mary watch James sit down and then follow you up the stairs. Lily hesitates a moment before knocking on the door to your shared dorm. 

“Lovie?” she called softly as she opened the door a crack. “Potter!”

The door creaks loudly as it opens wider. You had changed out of your uniform and into muggle clothes. You are sitting on your bed, lacing up your heavy boots with a small bag next to you.

“Going somewhere?” Marlene asks. She is the first of the girls to enter the room.

“I need to clear my head.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Lily asks, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle.

“Heard about some poachers gathering in the forest. And if I can’t find them, I’ll find some trolls or dugbogs or something.”

“And you plan on going alone?”

You shoot the girls a warning look. “Yes. Evans, if you threaten detention, make it for Thursday.”

Lily doesn’t say anything. 

“What did you and Lupin talk about?” Mary inquires, not quite seeing that you aren’t in the mood to talk about that yet. 

“Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.”

You, having finished lacing your boots, grab you bag and storm out of the dorm. You have to push past Mary who is still standing in the doorway. Your heavy footsteps silence the common room before you finish descending the stairs. Eyes follow you as you leave the common room. Once out of the portrait, the common room roars to life again. 

“So… what the fuck?” Peter asks, looking at his friends.

“She’s pissed off,” Remus says coolly. “And I’d say for decent reason.”

James gives him an annoyed look.

“That time of the month, is it?”

“Peter, no!” Remus chastises. “She’s just figuring stuff out.”

“Care to share with the class?” James asks. 

“I’d prefer to not spend the next two weeks in the hospital wing so I’ll let her tell you when she’s ready.”

“So we’re going to let her go off like that?” Sirius asks, speaking up for the first time since you and Remus came back. 

“Yes,” Remus and James say at the same time. 

“Like she said, she doesn’t need protection,” Remus says, sending a wary glance to James.

---

Remus was mildly surprised that when he woke up, Sirius wasn’t in his bed. He was, however, less surprised when he found Sirius slumped on the couch in the common room. Remus approached him, ready to wake him up, only to find that Sirius was awake. His hair was slightly frizzy and dark bags formed under his eyes. He was still in his disheveled uniform from the day before, having never gone up to their dorm after dinner. 

“Pads?” he says gently. “Were you up all night?”

Sirius looks away from the fire groggily. 

“Huh?” He processes what Remus had asked him. He sits up, his back loudly cracking as he does so. “Yeah. Someone had to wait for Potter to get back.”

“And you didn’t come up when she did?”

Sirius shakes his head before running a hand through his curls.

“She didn’t, Moons. She didn’t come back.”

Remus’ eyes go wide.

“No, surely she came back. You must’ve drifted asleep at some point.”

“She didn’t. I was awake the whole time.”

Remus sits next to his friend, placing a hand on his knee. “Maybe she got back recently and just went straight to breakfast? How ‘bout we go get some, yeah?”

“Let me change,” Sirius mutteres, giving Remus a tired look.

He doesn’t move for a minute. His brain feels too fuzzy and wired at the same time. Convincing his legs to support his weight as he eventually stands up is more of a task than he anticipates. He is quick in getting ready for the day in their dorm. He doesn’t understand how James is still asleep, or how he had slept at all when you weren’t in the castle for all they knew. Sirius ties his hair back and looks at his reflection with his fresh uniform on. Despite his attempts to make himself look presentable, not having slept at all and being filled with worry makes him look exhausted, which is how he felt. He just doesn’t want to show it. He sighs and returns to Remus. 

Sirius watches the Great Hall door as he slowly eats some breakfast. He drinks some coffee that Remus pushed towards him, saying something along the lines of needing caffeine if he was planning on making it through the day. When the girls sit down, they confirm that you hadn't been in their dorm that morning and your bed looked unslept in. Sirius groans. The girls exchange curious looks. 

Palpable concern and worry finally reaches the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors when they are all sat in Charms and you still weren't there. 

“You’re certain that she didn’t come back and just made her bed when she got up?” James asks Marlene.

“Positive. All of her school things were still there. The bed hadn’t been touched.”

“And since when does she make her bed?” Lily asks. 

Halfway through class, you enter the room. All eyes turn to look at you. You have multiple bandages over your body, looking freshly applied. You hand Professor Flitwick a note and take your spot next to Mary. You don’t say anything to all the Gryffindors staring at you. You just open your book to the same page as Mary and turn to look at the professor, hoping he’d continue his lesson where he left off. 

“Where have you been?” Mary whispers, not looking at you.

“Forest. And then hospital wing,” you reply nonchalantly. 

“Did you sleep?”

“No. I’ll be fine,” you assert. “Now shush.”

After Charms ends, the Gryffindors surround you so you can’t slip away to your next class. You avoid making eye contact with any of them as you gather your things and attempt to push through them. 

“Going into the forest at night is one thing,” Lily chides. “Not coming back until halfway through the first lesson of the day is another.”

“Okay, mum,” you say shortly, still trying to push through the group.

“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” James asks.

You glare at him. “Certainly not to you.”

“You look like you barely came back in one piece!” he exclaims. “I’m shocked Pomfrey let you leave the hospital wing.”

A wicked glint shines in your eyes. “Oh, she didn’t. I just left.”

“Potter!” Mary gasps.

“Macdonald!” you mimic with an eye roll. “If you lot don’t get out of my way, I’ll be late for Ancient Runes and I’m already on thin ice with Raltmole.”

You finally push through the group and leave them in the Charms classroom. They exchange frustrated looks before following you out. They split up for their respective classes, Remus and Lily following you towards the Ancient Runes classroom. 

“Did you find the poachers you were looking for?” Lily asks tentatively once they sit on either side of you. 

You nod. “And then some. The hippogriffs they had weren’t happy to be freed.”

“Did you bow to them?” Remus asks.

“No? Was I supposed to?”

“Yes!” Remus breathes.

You hum and spin your quill in your fingers. “Now I know for next time.”

Professor Raltmole gathers the class’ attention and begins her lecture. Remus takes a ratty piece of parchment from his bookbag and scrawls a short note on it before sliding it across the desk toward you. 

Padfoot waited up for you

You quickly read it, write a response and slide it back.

Is that why he looks like living death?

He didn’t sleep because you were gone

You crumple the paper when you get it back from Remus. You shove it in your pocket, away from Lily’s view. 

“I’ll talk to him later,” you hiss to Remus.

An angry Madam Pomfrey yells at you in front of most of the castle at lunch for sneaking out of the hospital wing when you were clearly still in need of tending to. An excuse of not wanting to miss more class seemed to ward her off, but you feel the nurse’s frustrated gaze on you for the rest of the meal. Mary and Marlene ask you about the poachers you dueled as you walked to your next class. You recount a watered down version of the previous night’s events for them. You make sure that your injuries still make sense but their severity less. The girls are simply impressed and less concerned for their friend. 

You are happy when the second half of the day is more concentrated on schoolwork rather than what you had gotten up to last night. You didn’t want to keep reliving being outnumbered by the poachers and just barely getting out without being too injured. The fear in the hippogriffs’ eyes haunted you. It reminds you that what you did was right, but they had still attacked you after you unlocked their cages. Sitting at dinner, you gently touch the bandage on her face and wince. 

“If it hurts, you probably shouldn’t touch it,” Lily says. “Or go see Pomfrey again. I’m sure she’d love to patch you up more.”

“Going back is admitting defeat,” you say definitively. 

You wouldn’t go back, not even when your bandages need to be replaced. You know that the boys have plenty of bandages in their dorm and you could use some of those. You worried that Pomfrey would handcuff you to a cot and place a charm on it so you couldn’t escape. You were determined to not be held captive to the nurse. 

You fold gravy into your mashed potatoes until they turn a gross shade of pale brown. Your whole body had started to ache during the last lesson of the day. The pain is stronger than your hunger and all you want to do now is sleep. However, you weren’t dumb. Your friends would have cursed you into next week, or at least taken you to Madam Pomfrey, if you hadn’t shown up to dinner. You sigh as the plates in the middle of the table clear and replenish with desserts. Nothing looks appetizing. You force yourself to swallow some of the potatoes so you could claim that you did have some dinner. After a few bites, you resume swirling the soft mush around your plate. 

“Darling, you done?” Marlene asks, standing up across from you. 

You look up, noticing that a fair amount of students had already left the Great Hall. 

“I guess so,” you say. 

You walk back to the Gryffindor Tower in silence. Marlene seems to read your body language, which says you aren’t in the mood to talk anymore. Your face has a hardened look to it with your arms crossed over your chest. After giving the password, Marlene makes sure to hold open the portrait for you so it doesn't close on you. 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t smile a little when you saw Sirius sitting on the couch with no one else. Marlene heads for the girls’ stairs, half expecting you to follow her up. Instead, you make a beeline for the couch and lay down, your head resting in Sirius’ lap.

“Hey Black,” you say, looking up at him.

“Aren’t you exhausted?” he asks, looking down at you. “I think you got as much sleep as I did last night.”

“So Remus says,” you reply. 

Sirius twirls some of your hair around his finger, something he had done hundreds of times before. Only this time, you see it as something more tender, all thanks to what Remus had said the day prior. It sent off butterflies in your stomach.

“Must’ve been some conversation you two had yesterday,” Sirius mumbles. “What else would keep you out so late?”

You scoff. “James being a prat. But it was some conversation. I think I needed to hear it.”

Sirius’ expression softens. 

“What did you need to hear?”

“It was… a reality check.” 

You pause, studying the look on his face. You are vaguely aware of the other people in the common room, but the way Sirius is looking at you could’ve convinced you that you were the only one in the entire castle with those grey eyes. Without saying anything to each other, you feel as if the only things you can hear are your breathing and the muted crackling of the fire not far from you. You reach up and tuck a curl behind his ear, revealing his multiple piercings that he’d gotten over the years. You notice his breathing hitch as your hand gently grazes his face. You smile at him. 

“So between the reality check and Mr. Bitchiness himself, I needed to clear my head.”

Sirius shakes his head with a soft chuckle.

“I think you should find a way to clear your head that doesn’t involve barely coming back in one piece, Potter.”

“I thought you called me pumpkin.”

“I thought you hated being called that.”

“I do, but I let you get away with it.” You gently poke the tip of his nose playfully. Your gaze briefly flicks to his lips before returning to his eyes. “You’re… special.” 

“That doesn’t look like a meter,” James’ voice calls, bringing you back into the noise of the common room. 

You can see your brother standing over the two of you behind the couch. His face isn’t quite murderous, but it was getting there. 

“She’s exhausted and in pain and you come swooping in?” James accuses Sirius. “I thought I told you to give her space.”

You sit up and glare at James, the tenderness of the moment with Sirius evaporated.

“Excuse you,” you say, a disgusted snarl creeping up on your face. “He did no such swooping. And you can’t tell people to stay away from me.”

“I’m your brother! It’s my job to keep people away from you,” he says, giving his friend a sour look. “Especially when I think they have immoral intentions.”

“Have you considered that I’m the one who came to him and not the other way around?” 

“Why would you?”

You blink. “Because he’s my friend?”

“He’s my friend,” James says.

You can’t stop yourself. You slap James across the face. You feel your own face burning and tears beginning to brim in your eyes. 

“I see you didn’t learn anything from last night, you git,” you spit at him. 

You stand up, leaving Sirius alone on the couch. He watches in silence as you turn to leave the common room. You slam the portrait behind you, earning a scolding from the Fat Lady about respect. The common room remains silent as Sirius looks up at James.

“Prongs, I swear, she came to me,” he says. “I was sitting here and she came to me. She walked in with Marlene long after we came back from dinner.”

“Whatever, Pads. Just keep your distance from her, like you said you would.”

Sirius lets his lips form a thin line as he looks away from James and back to the fire. Technically, he had never said he would keep away from you. James had just insisted on it. James sighs heavily, glancing at the portrait hole. He is glad that you didn’t go upstairs to change and grab whatever you would need to go out again, but you leaving in such a fury wasn’t ideal either. He turns and goes back up to their dorm. When Remus sees how upset James is, he immediately goes to check in on Sirius, letting Peter work on calming James down. 

Remus sits on the other side of the couch. Sirius is radiating an energy that said he needed a little bit of space around him. 

“Padfoot,” Remus says, speaking tentatively. “What just happened? Why is Prongs in a huff again?”

“He’s accusing me of trying to defile her when she’s not in her right mind.”

Remus isn’t a fan that Sirius didn’t look at him when he talked. He didn’t want his friend to stay up all night staring into the fire again. 

“Where is she?”

Sirius shrugs. “Slapped Prongs and left.”

Remus raised his eyebrows and leaned toward Sirius. 

“She slapped him?” he asks, trying to hold in some laughter. “Honestly, someone needed to and it’s good it came from her. He’ll forgive her.”

“Do you think he’d forgive me?” Sirius asks, his voice barely audible and eyes still not leaving the flickering flames. 

“Forgive you for what?” Remus asks cautiously. “Did you… defile her?”

Sirius scoffs. “No, Merlin… But… fuck. Nevermind.”

Remus scoots to the middle cushion of the couch. He places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius looks away from the fire. His cheeks are dusted with a faint blush. 

“Padfoot, be honest with me. How do you feel about her?” 

Remus’ voice is soft. It has a sense of pleading to it, as if begging Sirius to admit something he doesn’t want to, as if begging him to be more vulnerable in the middle of the common room than he has ever been before. Sirius just shakes his head with a frown.

“That doesn’t matter.”

With a harsh sigh, Remus tries again. “Prongs doesn’t matter right now. How do you, Padfoot, Sirius Orion Black, feel about her?”

“Like she is the most precious thing.” He closes his eyes and turns his face toward the fire again. “But Prongs does matter. So how I feel doesn’t. I need his friendship more than I need a relationship.”

Remus gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“Imagine if everything went right though… You and Prongs could legally be brothers.”

Sirius coughs in surprise at his words. Of course, he had thought about it from time to time. James was his brother in practically all ways except literally. You, being alluring as you were, were something different. You weren't a sister to him. What he feels for you isn’t what he would feel for a sister and it is certainly more than anything he has felt for any other girl. 

“Think about it, Pads, yeah?” Remus suggests, giving his shoulder another squeeze. “You think Wormtail has calmed Prongs down enough for it to be safe to go back up there?”

Remus glances toward the stairs. Then he looks back at Sirius, who has opened his eyes but stares absently at the hearth. 

“You said she left the common room? You don’t think she’ll be gone all night again, do you?” Remus questions, his voice having more concern than before. 

“She’ll be back… Although it might be better if I’m not down here when she returns…”

---

You spend the rest of the week avoiding James. You put as many people in between you as possible when you have to be near him. If he tries to talk to you, you either ignore him or speak to him through someone else. It pisses him off. You also take to avoiding the common room, being that he was often there. For once, you find yourself being furious that Remus and Sirius were James’ friends first and yours second.

Marlene sits down in the library at the same table as you, Mary and Lily. You are working on various assignments, books littering the tables. Marlene clears a small section for her to get out her own work. She shoots a wary look toward you.

“Black’s back on his bullshit,” she says, watching you for a reaction that you don’t give her. 

You keep your eyes on your Ancient Runes assignment.

“Who’s he snogging now?” Lily asks. She knows someone has to buy into the bait.

“Charity Burbage.”

“Didn’t realize she was his type…” Mary mutters. “Isn’t she a few years younger?”

“Fourth year, but she’s… mature if you know what I mean,” Marlene answers, giving her own breasts a squeeze.

“Alright, we get your point,” Lily says, cutting her off. “Remember that we’re here to do homework, right?”

You just scoff and keep working. Hearing that Sirius was off snogging a busty fourth year rubbed you the wrong way. You keep thinking back to what Sirius had said and what Remus had told you about him. You think about how Sirius had been the one waiting up for you to come back that night you got into the fight with James. You don’t want to imagine Sirius sucking face with a younger girl, but the image keeps appearing in your mind. It makes your blood boil. 

“Potter, you good?” Mary whispers from across the table.

You look up at Mary and then back down at your paper. There were various splotches of ink where you had been holding your quill and lightly tapping it. You sighed in annoyance. 

“Guess Raltmole is getting subpar work again,” you groan. 

You look over at the assignment sheet again and force a smile. At least you were on the last question. Once you answer it, you could make an excuse to leave. You hurriedly finish and begin putting your stuff away.

“I’ll see you lot later.”

“Going back to the common room?” Lily asks, not looking up from her own assignment. 

“Yeah,” you lie. You had no intention of going back to Gryffindor Tower and risk running into James. 

You make your way up to the astronomy tower. As you climb the stairs, hot tears sting in your eyes and begin to fall. You have never been so glad to find the tower completely empty. You sit down near the edge of the platform. The cold air feels nice as you feel like you are overheating. Your mind is spinning with thoughts of Sirius. You hate that you had admitted to Remus that you had been harboring feelings for Sirius for years and everything you had buried so deep inside of you had been brought back to the surface. You hate that your friends feel the need to bring up whoever they saw Sirius kissing. 

As you look over the horizon, lost in your thoughts, you hear a string of swears from the stairs. You don’t look to see who it was. It isn’t a Gryffindor and that’s all that really matters to you at this moment. When the boy reaches the top of the stairs, he immediately spots you at the edge of the platform. He swears again, having hoped the tower would be empty, but then he notices you shuddering and hears your sniffles. 

“Is this where everyone goes when they’re upset?” Barty Crouch Jr. asks, taking a step towards you, unsure of how you felt about having company. He had wanted to be alone so maybe you did too.

You turn your head to look at him. Your face is flushed and eyes red. Tears streak your face. Barty decides that you look too pitiful to leave alone. He sits down next to you, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the platform and leaning backwards. 

“Misery loves company, doesn’t it?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you.

You smiled softly, although it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Depends on the company you keep.”

“Well, I came up here to be alone.” He kicks his legs in the open air. “But you’re not a Slytherin so I’ll give you a chance.”

“And you’re not a Gryffindor so I won’t ask you to leave.”

He chuckles and gives you a half smile. “Lions and snakes can be too much from time to time.”

“You can say that again. … What’d they do to you?”

“Evan… He’s hiding something from me and it’s not good. He needs to let me in, but it’s hard to convince him when everyone, Black, Snape, Avery, Wilkes, tells me to drop it. God forbid I try to be involved in my boyfriend’s life…” Barty sighs. “Everyone ganged up on me, even Pandora.”

“Didn’t know you and Evan… Rosier?” 

“Yeah, Rosier. We don’t make it a habit to snog in the corridors like the other Black.”

You grimace. The other Black was your issue. 

“What?”

“The other Black…”

Barty’s eyes widen. “You and him? I thought I heard he was…”

“We’re not,” you cut him off. “Which is why I’m up here.”

“I need a distraction from Ev… What’s up with that little blood traitor?”

You glare at Barty. “I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to be like that.”

“Sorry, habit. What’s the other Black up to?”

You shake your head and adjust so your legs hang over the edge too. You sniffle again and blink away tears that threaten to stream down your face again.

“How am I supposed to know if he likes me if I keep hearing that he’s going into a broom closet with a new girl every other day?”

“You like him?” Barty asks. “Of course you do. Just about every girl has a fantasy about him.”

You scoff. “Every girl… Yeah. That’s part of the problem. He all but told me that I’m the reason he’s snogging every girl in our year. And yours. And then some.”

“You’re the reason?”

“Something like James would kill him if he touched me so he touches everyone else.” You roll your eyes and lean forward into the metal railing. “And then Remus goes off and says he’s fairly certain that Sirius really does like me in the way I like him. And James constantly acting like I need protection from his friends. And every time I think I’ve collected myself and reburied my feelings for Black, Marlene and Mary come around and talk about who they saw him with.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid.”

“Your stupid problem is better than thinking about mine. I know Ev will be cooled off when I get back and we’ll be fine. Your problem is… more.”

“Do the Slytherins think Sirius has some checklist of every girl he needs to snog before graduation?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Not that I know of, but I’m around Reg a lot and we don’t talk about his brother in front of him unless we have a death wish.” He pauses. “Poor wording because some of us do… We don’t talk about him.”

“Hmm… It’s definitely a topic among Gryffindors. Obviously.”

“He’d never be able to finish it.”

You give him a confused look as you sniffle again. 

“You and that redhead. The one your brother and Snape are obsessed with.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah, Lily would never kiss Sirius. Even for a dare. She’d rather do just about anything else.”

“And I call that a success!” Barty says with a smile. “Got the crying girl to laugh.”

“That you did…”

“May regret asking this, but what set you off? Why are you here now? Sounds like you’re just eternally pining.”

“Marlene said she saw Black snogging Burbage.”

“She’s younger than me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah.” You sigh and feel tears fall again. 

Your mind keeps telling you it was stupid to be jealous over a silly fourth year, but it was unfair. Barty notices you starting to cry again.

“Come here,” he says as he puts his arm around you. 

While he and Evan would fight, he hoped they would never make each cry like this. The girl he had only ever seen as a force to be reckoned with was reduced to a puddle of emotions. You rest your head on Barty’s shoulder. It gives you a little bit of comfort to be hurting with someone else.

---

“She’s where with who?” James yells in their dorm. 

When the girls had returned from the library and asked if you were in their room, they were met with confused stares from the boys. They hadn’t seen you since dinner and they had been in the common room all evening. While the girls shared looks of minor confusion, the boys shared looks of worry. The boys had immediately gone up to their dorm and opened the map. Each scanned a different section, looking for your name.

“She’s in the astronomy tower with Junior,” Peter repeats. 

“Is she trying to get herself killed?”

“You seem far more concerned about her being with Junior than you did with her going off to fight poachers,” Sirius mutters, going to sit on his bed. 

James turns to glare at him.

“What does that mean?”

“Just questioning what, or who, you think counts as dangerous.”

“You damn well know that Junior is dangerous,” James growls. 

“Oh, I do know that, Prongs. But I’m not. I���m not a threat to her.”

“We aren’t talking about this right now, Padfoot. She is actually in danger right now!” 

“Should we be concerned that their names aren’t moving?” Peter asks, still looking at the map. “Neither one has even shifted so they aren’t walking around or nothing.”

The two boys look over at Peter, anger fading from their faces and being replaced with fear and concern. 

“That’s it. I’m going to get her,” James announces, moving for the door before Remus stops him.

“Like hell you are,” he says firmly. “In case you’re more dense than I think you are, you’re not her favorite person right now. I don’t think it’s wise that you go.”

“Then who’s going to go? Can’t really ask Lily to go fetch her without explaining the map.”

“Padfoot, you go see if she’s okay,” Remus decides. “Just… don’t overreact to whatever you’re walking into.”

Sirius doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips out of the door behind Remus, shooting James a gloating face. Once the door is closed, Remus lets James go. 

“Tell me how Padfoot is going to handle that situation better than I would,” James demands. 

“First off, you would walk in and blast Junior off the tower. Don’t act like you wouldn’t. And like I said, she is still angry with you. You going would only make things worse between you two,” Remus starts to explain. “Second, it would’ve been best if I went, but then I’d be leaving you and Padfoot alone and I didn’t feel like returning to a blood bath.”

James frowns, although he could see the logic behind Remus’ actions. He doesn’t need to ask why they didn’t send Peter; he didn’t have what it might take to get you away from Barty if it came to that. 

Sirius’ stomach churns when he sees Barty’s arm around you. You appear to be willingly leaning into his side. You are sitting at the edge of the platform, legs hanging over the edge and resting against the bars. Keeping quiet as he lingers in the doorway, he can hear you having a whispered conversation. You were sniffling. After a few minutes of watching them and feeling sick, Sirius makes his presence known.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he says softly, causing both of them to jump at the sound of his voice. “Everyone’s looking for you.”

Barty glares at Sirius. They had never gotten along, especially with Barty being one of Regulus’ closer friends. 

“Piss off, Black. We’re having a conversation,” he spits, still holding onto you although it was a looser grip. 

You had turned your body and propped one of your legs up on the platform. You wipe your nose and sniffle. Now that you were looking at Sirius, he could see that your eyes were red and puffy from crying. 

“Everyone can piss off, actually,” you say, voice shaky. “They can handle a night without me.”

You let your leg fall back over the edge as you turn back to looking over the horizon. Barty follows suit. Sirius walks closer to you and sits down only a short distance away, resting his back against a pillar. 

“Well, I’m not going back without you. So, carry on. I’ll walk you back when you’re ready.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, not that Sirius saw either. 

“Black, I would’ve thought by now you’d be able to tell when you aren’t wanted,” Barty says, venom dripping from his words. “Get out of here before I make you.”

“Last I checked, she was more my friend than yours,” Sirius replies. 

“Guess you haven’t checked recently.”

Sirius narrows his eyes at Barty as his arm pulls her waist closer to his. 

“Guess fate is being extra cruel tonight,” Barty mutters to you and you nod in agreement. “I’m going to be fine, but are you?”

“Eventually, I assume,” you say. “I just feel defeated, and that doesn’t help.” 

“What did I do?” Sirius asks, knowing that he was what you were referring to.

You and Barty look over at him. 

“The fact that you have to ask…” you sigh with a sniffle. 

“Do you want me to go?” Barty asks.

“Yes,” Sirius answers.

“I wasn’t asking you, Black,” Barty snarls. “Potter? I’m not leaving you with him unless you ask me to.”

Sirius gapes at Barty. The Slytherin seemed genuinely concerned to leave you alone with Sirius, someone you had been alone with many times before. He doesn’t understand why people weren’t trusting him to be around one of his friends. He didn’t think he had done anything to earn that. 

“Stay,” you say.

The one word hits Sirius hard. He feels like he is going to throw up. In what world would you be asking Barty Crouch Jr. to stay? 

“What the hell, love?” Sirius asks. 

You shoot him a hurt look. “Burbage? Really?”

He groans and runs a hand through his hair.

“Is that what this is about? I thought we talked about this.”

You let out a cold and empty laugh. “We talked about this? No. You were just incredibly cryptic about some feelings you may or may not have as you let James run your life.”

“So you get with Crouch?”

You and Barty look at each other and make faces of disgust before slightly pushing away from each other, as if suddenly becoming aware of how close they actually were. 

“We… no. Absolutely not,” you stutter.

“I don’t… I’m taken,” Barty says. 

“He is,” you confirm with a nod.

You scoot back from the ledge, still sitting much closer to Barty than you were to Sirius. Barty does the opposite, leaning further over the railing and slumping like a rag doll. Sirius looks from one to the other. 

“Then what is this?”

“One upset person comforting another?” Barty offers.

“And you’re upset?” Sirius challenges, not quite believing him.

“You don’t seem upset nor are you comforting Potter. So that would leave me being the other upset person. Yes.”

“Whatever. Darling, can we go?”

“No?”

“Hey, come on.”

“No.” 

Barty gives you a wary look. Then he stands up, moving slowly toward the door.

“I’m going… to go. You two… need to talk.”

“Barty, no,” you plead. Your eyes looked ready to cry again. “Please, stay.”

“No, bye bye Barty,” Sirius says, standing up. 

Sirius claps Barty on the shoulder, walks him to the doorway and makes sure he leaves. Then he walks over to you and holds out his hand. 

“Come on, darling. Let’s go.”

You don’t take his hand. You spin where you sit to face away from him. Whenever he moved to be in front of you, you’d spin again. You know you are acting like a stubborn child, but you feel that you’ve earned that. He allows you to act like this for a few minutes before he gest tired of it.

“Pumpkin, come on. If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to go back and James will come get you.”

You make a disgruntled face and finally take Sirius’ hand. 

“What did Junior mean by we need to talk?” Sirius asks as you walk toward the stairs. 

“The Marauders need to get their shit together,” you say, not looking back at him and starting to descend the stairs. 

Sirius follows you, picking up his speed to stay just one step behind you.

“So it’s not just me?”

You stop abruptly. Sirius bumps into you and you have to grab onto the railing to stop yourself from falling.

“Prongs needs to keep himself in check. He needs to stay in his lane. Moony needs to stop getting a girl’s hopes up. You need to go after that one girl you like and stick to her. I’m tired of hearing about a new girl’s tongue down your throat every day.” You pause. You had brought their friend group’s name into it so you had to name everyone. “Wormtail… uh, needs to be less of an idiot. Get him a real sense of humor or something.”

“And you told Junior all of that?”

“Yes.”

You walk the rest of the way back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Sirius isn’t sure what to say that would make you feel better so he settles on silence. You still sniffled a few times, but they were getting less frequent. You seem to be more furious now than sad, which was something of a win. When you enter the common room, you both keep walking to your individual dorms. You go straight to bed, closing the curtains around so that no one will bother you. Sirius is met with James, Remus and Peter anxiously waiting. 

“Took you damn long enough,” James says as soon as Sirius walks through the doors. “What did that bastard do to her?”

“Gee, no Thanks Padfoot, thanks for getting my sister back safe and sound?” Sirius mocks. His mind is still stuck on what you had said to him about all of them. He sighs. “If what they both said is true, they simply talked. She was crying; he comforted her.”

“What was she crying about?” Peter asks. 

Sirius makes eye contact with Remus. It seems like Remus knew immediately what she was crying about, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of James.

“Coudn’t get it out of her,” he lies. 

---

You follow the girls around Hogsmeade on Saturday. You don’t really care where the group goes and you are able to mostly drown out their conversations. Your brain is empty. It is easier for it to be empty than to think about everything that made you cry the previous night. 

Mary, Lily, Marlene and her girlfriend, Dorcas, carry their own conversations and manage to stick together as a group all day. They don’t seem to notice that you are in your head. They just make sure that you are still tagging along, not left behind anywhere. 

“It’s good to get out of the castle for a good, safe time,” Mary had told you this morning when she insisted that you come instead of rotting in bed all day as you had planned to. 

The group is heading back into Hogsmeade Square from Dogwood and Deathcap when they run into the Marauders in the cemetery. No one questions why they were messing around the tombs. With them, it is better to just accept it and move on with your day. The boys insist that they all go to the Three Broomsticks and end their day with as many butterbeers as they could drink. You, being determined to not talk to any of the boys, pinch the bridge of your nose as the girls enthusiastically agree. Lily hangs back as the boys lead the way to the pub.

“We could probably sneak back to the castle,” Lily mutters to you as you follow the group at a short distance. 

“So you’re delusional,” you reply. “James will most certainly notice you’re gone.” 

“They would notice you’re gone too… Don’t think I haven’t taken note of how quiet you’ve been.”

“I didn’t want to come here in the first place,” you hiss. 

Lily reaches out to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers. “Well, we can suffer through butterbeers together. And then rot in our beds tomorrow.” 

“Lily Evans doesn’t rot,” you snort.

You allow the girl to pull you into the Three Broomsticks after your friends. They somehow managed to push two tables together to accommodate their large group, which is an impressive feat given how busy the pub always was when students visited the village in troves. It doesn’t take long for Madam Rosmerta to get foaming mugs of butterbeer in front of everyone. The group sat divided by gender at the table. You made sure to sit on the same side of the table as James so if you accidentally looked down the table, you had a near impossible chance of making eye contact with him. It helped that he was at the complete opposite end of the table. Although Lily had said you would be suffering through butterbeers together, she is quickly engulfed into an animated conversation with Dorcas, Remus and Peter. Mary and Marlene were listening intently, but didn’t offer much to the conversation. James and Sirius appeared to be in their own world at their end of the table. You were content ignoring everyone’s conversations. 

You slowly sip on your drink, looking around the pub. A handful of Slytherins are sitting at a table in the corner. You somehow manage to catch Barty’s eye and you share a small smile. Next to him sat the blond Evan Rosier and he was throwing back drinks and laughing loudly. You could see what Barty saw in him. There was a certain lightness to him. 

“Mind if I sit here?” a voice asks, bringing your attention to a boy standing at the end of the table with a chair in hand. 

“What?”

You recognize him from classes. Davey Something, Ravenclaw. You never really paid him any attention. 

“Can I sit here? All my friends went back to the castle already.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Davey, right?” you ask, pulling your mug closer to you.

He sits kitty corner to you, despite there being empty space across from you. You assume that he didn’t know that no one was sitting there. 

“That’s my name,” he replies with a smile. 

He glances down the table to the rest of the Gryffindors and Dorcas. None of them seem to notice or care that someone new has joined their table. 

“Anything interesting going on in Gryffindor Tower lately?” Davey asks, returning his gaze to you. “Most interesting thing to happen in Ravenclaw is a fourth year beat a seventh year in Wizards’ Chess.”

You chuckle and take a sip of your butterbeer.

“Oh, there is always something happening in our tower,” you say. “I slapped James. Argued with him in front of the entire common room. Sirius pulled an all-nighter for no reason. He’s also been snogging anything that moves in a skirt.”

Davey’s smile dips slightly. “Been snogging you?”

“No,” you say with an eye roll, before chuckling as you continue. “James banned him from being within a meter of me for that very reason.”

“That what you argued with him about?”

“Part of it. He’s been acting like I can’t handle myself. Like I had a simple chat with Remus and James threw a fit.”

“He got pissy because you were hanging out with his mates?”

“Yes! That’s also why he got slapped. Those were two different days…” You pause as you glance down the table. “And from what I can tell, he’s still on his bullshit.”

“Definitely is bullshit,” Davey agrees. His brilliant blue eyes looked deep into your eyes. “I think the whole castle knows how capable you are at handling yourself.”

“Do I really have a reputation of more than being the female Potter?” you ask, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, darling, you do.”

“Tell me about it.”

You take a drink of your butterbeer, draining it. Rosmerta is quick to bring around another one and one for Davey as well. You hadn’t noticed that he didn’t have a mug in front of him previously. 

“If you didn’t have Sirius or James as your perpetual dueling partners, you’d have trouble finding one in Defense class. You’re.. too good. It’s almost scary.”

You smile widely with a faint blush on your cheeks. You knew you were good at dueling. That’s why you went off to fight poachers when you knew where they were and didn’t bother buying potion ingredients that could be gathered if you ventured a little further than teachers normally approved. You had also been told by many teachers that you were exceptional at dueling, but hearing from a decently cute boy did something to your ego. 

“From what I’ve heard, you’re amazing in every subject. We don’t have many together anymore. But when we were younger, I remember seeing you taunt James whenever you got a better grade than he did… which was pretty often.”

“What’s the point of having a twin if you can’t be better than him,” you laugh. 

“Are you better than him at quidditch?”

You groan at that question. “No…”

“Darn. I was hoping you could make the Gryffindor team better.”

You lightly hit Davey’s shoulder playfully.

“Gryffindor is a damn good team!”

“Your seeker is trash!”

You take a second to think about who your seeker is. 

“Isn’t he a second year? Cut the kid some slack!”

Davey laughs. “But if he’s the best that tried out? I’m doubting the captain’s skills.”

“Too bad that isn’t a James diss. For some reason he wasn’t made captain this year, but he was last year. Quidditch politics baffle me.”

“I’d try to explain them, but I think they differ by house.”

“You’re not on Ravenclaw’s team?”

“I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who are.”

“James likes to make it his entire personality so I’ve become fairly good at tuning it all out. There are better things to focus on.”

“Yeah? What captures your pretty little brain?”

“During the summer and over breaks, I’m a top-tier chef and baker. I honestly don’t know what my parents eat while we’re at school because I literally make every meal when I’m home.”

“You cook? Isn’t that what house elves are for?”

“Not everyone has, or needs, an elf,” you say firmly. “But, like, cooking is good for distracting my brain. Although I could be better in Potions…”

“You’re in N.E.W.T. level Potions. I’m sure you’re fine,” Davey assures you, placing his hand over yours on the table. “What else do you do besides dueling, cooking and looking beautiful?”

You feel yourself blush more. 

“Merlin, this sounds nerdy, but I really do love learning about obscure magic. Haven’t gotten my hands on any good books yet this year because they are usually deep in the Restricted Section and Pince has been watching it like a hawk.”

“Obscure magic? Very Ravenclaw of you.”

You were trying to not look at his hand that was still on yours. His gaze is fixed intently on you. You have all of his attention.

“I plan on either being an Auror or an Unspeakable after school so a deep understanding of magic is important.” 

“Look at you. Big ambitions.”

You look down at your empty mugs. You aren’t entirely sure when either of you had finished your drinks but apparently you had. You cast a quick glance down the table as well. You don’t know why you are relieved that no one was paying attention to you, all completely engulfed in one large conversation now. 

“Want to get out of here?” you ask, looking back to Davey.

He smiles widely at your suggestion. He stands up and pulls out your chair to help you up.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he whispers into your ear. “Lead the way.”

You take Davey’s hand and you head for the door. You make sure to bump into James’ chair. 

“Oops,” you say with a giggle before pulling Davey out of the pub into the autumn evening. 

James and Sirius watch you leave with equal looks of distaste.

“Where’s she going?” Sirius asks.

“Better yet, who the fuck is she with?” James follows up. 

The rest of the table turns to look but the door has already closed behind you. Despite wanting to follow them, Sirius and James return their attention to the group’s discussion about whether the foul smelling liquid from Gobbstones would cover up the smell of Amortentia. They hadn’t discussed the potion in class yet, but they had heard of the powerful love potion. 

You and Davey walk around Hogsmeade, weaving in between buildings. There’s easy conversation between you, nothing too deep or heavy. You can tell by the way he looks at you and lets his touch linger that he’s looking for something more, but conversation feels so platonic. It feels like two acquaintances getting to know each other, which is what it was. You can’t deny that Davey’s attractive, but there’s no draw to him besides a little bit of attention and maybe some revenge aimed at Sirius and James. You find yourself in the garden outside of the village, walking up to the platform that overlooks the Black Lake. The distant glow of Hogsmeade lights it up just right so it feels far more romantic. As you lean over the ledge, you wonder if Sirius’ method of snogging someone else helps you get over them. Looking at Davey, or his lip if you’re being precise, you debate giving it a shot. 

Then there’s a burst of noise that makes both of you jump and look over your shoulders. You can barely see the Three Broomsticks and the herd of people leaving it. It isn’t hard to tell that they are arguing. You can pick out James, Sirius, Lily and Dorcas’ voices. Both of you stare for a moment before looking back at each other. 

“What do you think happened after we left?” he asks. 

You shrug. “Not sure.”

“Don’t be rash!” Lily yells.

“I’m going to kill him!”

“James! Slow down!” Dorcas yells.

“When I find them, I’m going to kill him!” 

“And I’m helping!” Sirius adds.

“Like hell you are,” James resorts.

“There!” Marlene exclaims, her voice sounding more cheerful than the others. 

You turn to look at Davey nervously when you notice that Marlene is pointing in your direction and the group begins running. James and Sirius shrug off Lily and Dorcas’ grips on them as they tried to hold the boys back. The two are in a full on sprint with the rest of the group jogging behind them. It appeared that they came to the conclusion that none of them could outrun them. 

“Gudgeon, step away from her,” James snarls once he reaches the platform. 

Davey raises his eyebrows at your brother. “Why?”

“Because he bloody told you to, you git,” Sirius adds, heaving from running. 

“But why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to fully face them. “He came out here with me.”

“And you’re coming back with us,” James says. “Been a long day, time to go home.”

You hum and look at Davey. 

“I think I want to stay out a little longer.”

Davey smiles widely at you and then looks back at James and Sirius. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.

“You boys heard ‘er. She wants to stay.”

“James,” Lily warns as the rest of the group approaches.

She noticed before you that he had started to reach for his wand. James looks at Lily. 

“Lils, you must-” he starts to say, but then Sirius is ripping Davey’s arm off of you and picking you up to throw you over his shoulder. 

Your yelp of surprise is what cut off James’ excuse to Lily. 

“SIRIUS BLACK, YOU PUT ME DOWN!” you holler, trying to remove yourself from his grip.

“Ready to go?” he simply asks the rest of the group.

“Yeah, I’m good,” James answers, much more calm than he had been moments before. 

Davey watches as Sirius carries you in the direction of the castle, followed by James and the rest of the group. Peter and Remus bring up the rear, shooting him glares for having gone near you. While the girls didn’t seem to approve of how Sirius and James had gone about getting you away from Davey or why they had, they do seem to support getting you back to the castle.

“Sirius, are you going to put me down?” you ask, sounding defeated.

“No.”

“Why’d you leave the group?” Dorcas asks, moving into your line of sight.

“Too loud and hot,” you lie. You weren’t about to say that you were looking for a pretty distraction from the irritation your brother and boy carrying you caused you. 

“Just talk to us next time, yeah? We’ll leave,” James says. “Afterall, you know the buddy system.”

“I had a buddy,” you correct him. “Davey is a just fine buddy.”

“A buddy who just wants to get into your pants,” Marlene sings. 

“Huh?”

“He’s just looking for a quick shag, darling,” Mary clarifies. 

“Which is why we came to your rescue!” Sirius says.

“Rescue or ambush?” you grumble. “Maybe I wanted a quick shag too.”

The rest of the walk back to Hogwarts is quiet. Your ribs have grown sore from being slung over Sirius’ shoulder and your head feels light. At one point, you close your eyes and just listen to the crunching of leaves underfoot. 

“Alright, down you go, pumpkin,” Sirius says as you arrive at the entrance to Hogwarts’ grounds. “Figure you can walk from here.” 

He puts you down gently and all you can do is glare at him. You walk slowly into the grounds and the group takes that as a sign that all is well. 

“Marls, come on. I got something for you in the dungeons,” Dorcas says, grabbing Marlene’s hand and pulling her toward the castle.

The rest of the group follows suit, picking up their pace to get inside the warmth of the castle. You, however, keep your slow pace. You certainly aren’t in the mood to be sitting with them around the fire in the common room after you were literally hauled back. Sirius is the only one who lingers with you. 

“You alright?” he asks quietly, bumping shoulders with you. 

You sigh and look up at him. Damn those grey eyes and how warm they make you feel.

“Just tired of James acting like he controls my life.”

Sirius nods and takes a deep breath. 

“Come with me,” he says and holds out his hand for you to take. 

You hesitate. Your mind is screaming both to take it and to slap it away. How dare he offer his hand to you after being the one to carry you back? But, also, he was offering it to you, giving you the choice to take it. So you do. You take his hand and let him lead you down some stairs to a secluded area near the greenhouses. Light shimmers through their windows, giving the small clearing a subtle glow. 

“I think James would back off you a bit if I stopped listening to him about some things,” Sirius mutters, standing in front of you. A gentle hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear and lingers there for a moment.

He’s looking at you like he did that day on the couch, like you were the only one who existed in all of Hogwarts, in all of the world. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to understand what he was saying. All of your focus was on the hand that softly held your cheek. He takes a step toward you and before you can process anything, his lips are brushing up against yours. It’s soft and gentle and momentary. 

“I think I can tolerate him more if you do that again,” you mumble.

And he does. The second is still soft and gentle, but it lasts longer. It only deepens slightly when he places his other hand on your waist. Sirius is holding you with a featherlight touch like he doesn’t want to break you, but his hand never leaves your cheek. Inside, despite what you just said, he fears that if he lets go, you will disappear and leave him. 

“You could never be a checked box. Because you’re everything,” Sirius whispers.

“Then stop with your stupid list, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

"Good, because I think I like this a little too much."

[l-starsz]

please more sex with getting caught its so hot maybe billie pounding reader from behind and they get caught

a/n: i stayed up extra late to finish writing this so i really hope its good🥲 i’m so tired that my eyes are slowly closing rn, it’s almost 5am, if there are any mistakes please please ignore them because i’m not awake enough to notice🙏 this request was so good though oh my goshhh

billie and i had been preparing for the last hour to go see her family. it always took me a while to get ready, hence why we were getting ready over an hour in advance. when it was almost time to leave, billie walked in the room. she was wearing a baggy shirt, along with baggy jeans, and she looked perfect. i groaned and reached out towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against me.

"you look so beautiful, baby." i whispered.

i saw her smile as she pressed a kiss on top of my head, before speaking, "you look even more beautiful, my love. my pretty baby."

finneas and claudia were going to be there, along with some close family friends. i was really looking forward to catching up with everyone, and getting to spend time with them. i looked up at billie and smiled, until she spoke again.

"we have to leave in a minute, okay? otherwise we'll be late."

i nodded and let go of her waist, quickly finishing what i was doing before getting up to put my shoes on. it wasn't too long before we left the house. the drive wasn't too long since they lived pretty close, but the entire way there, billies hand stayed firm against my thigh. we had quiet music playing, but after around fifteen minutes, we were there.

as soon as she'd parked up, we walked straight inside and i immediately greeted everyone with quick hugs. whilst some of the people there were helping with dinner, me and billie were sat next to eachother on the sofa catching up with everyone. we had offered to help but maggie convinced us to sit down. it’d been a while since we’d seen them. the tv was playing quietly, but nobody was really paying attention to it, more interested in their own conversations.

it wasn’t too long before dinner was ready, and everyone sat around the table, many different conversations surrounding me as i joined in with a few of them every so often. the night went by super quick, and once everyone had left except for us, still talking to her parents, we realised how late it was. i stretched before nudging billie.

“we should probably head home, it’s getting kind of late.” i mumbled.

“shittt,” she groaned as she checked the time, “ugh I don’t wanna drive, i’m tired.” she rolled her eyes and shuffled closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

her parents must’ve overheard the conversation between us, because maggie suggested something that wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“why don’t you both just stay here for the night? it’s no bother for us, we love when you guys stay over.”

i glanced at billie at the same time she’d looked over at me. i gave her a questioning look as she nodded at me.

“that’d be great, thank you both so much! are you sure?” i just wanted to confirm, although they said it was fine, i wanted to be sure.

maggie and patrick both nodded, as me and billie thanked them. after the movie that’d been playing on tv came to an end, we went to billies old room, changing into clothes that were still in her wardrobe. what i didn’t expect to see was billie turning around to face me, with the strap attached around her hips.

“what the fuck is that doing around your waist baby?” i giggled as a smile came to her face.

“well uh- funny story.. i wanted to use it on you when we got home, so i decided it would be easier to have it on so that it was ready, but that can’t happen now.” she laughed, looking down at the ground as her cheeks turned pink.

i shook my head, still laughing as i reached over to help her take it off, whilst her hands made their way to my waist.

when we finally got into bed, we spent a bit of time talking to eachother obviously, and went on our phones. i was practically falling asleep when billie decided it was time to get up and properly get ready for bed. we did a little bit of skincare since we didn’t have our usual stuff with us, and we plaited eachothers hair so that it was out of the way while we slept, then brushed our teeth. when we finally got back in bed, we were both asleep almost immediately.

i woke up pretty early, in billies arms, my head resting on her chest whilst one of her arms was wrapped gently around me. her free hand was holding her phone, scrolling through different apps while she waited for me to wake up. i mumbled a good morning to her to catch her attention, as i buried my face into the crook of her neck.

“good morning angel, did you sleep good?” her fingers traced little patterns on my back underneath the oversized shirt i was wearing.

i nodded against her and held her tighter, before replying quietly.

“did you sleep okay?”

“i did, thank you, love. missed you though when i was waiting for you to wake up.” she almost whispered the last part.

“oh really? and what were you thinking about when i was still sleeping, hm?” i smirked, knowing exactly what she was hinting at.

“oh you knowww.. i was just thinking about the strap that you took off me last night, i mean its just laying on the floor doing nothing, just wondering if maybe we could put it to use?” she smiled, looking into my eyes as she spoke.

“right now? here? can’t you wait until we’re home bil?” i whispered, lifting my head from her neck and looking up at her.

“we can be quick baby. pleaseee, i’ve been desperate since yesterday when i put it on. you just need to be quiet for me.”

as much as i was worried about getting caught, we both knew that i needed it too. i was just as desperate as her, if not more. i thought about it for a few seconds, wondering if it was really a good idea, but i couldn’t fight the feeling. we both would’ve been unbearably horny if we didn’t do anything about in right in that moment, and that would’ve ended bad. i knew that if we waited, billie would’ve been teasing me all day until we were home, leaving me more needy.

“okay bil. but if i get too loud you need to tell me to shut up, i don’t want your parents hearing us. that’d be so awkward.” i giggled, rolling off her body and letting her get up to grab the strap, which had been discarded on the floor.

“okay, angel.” she laughed.

when she’d grabbed the strap, and walked back over to the bed, her lips almost immediately found mine. as we were making out, she slowly sat on the bed next to me, one of her hands on my cheek, whilst the other one made its way down my body, and tugged at the waistband of my shorts. her fingers snuck underneath, grazing the top of my underwear before moving back up to my stomach. i arched my back closer to her, trying to convince her to move her fingers lower again so that she could feel how wet she’d made me in such a short amount of time. it was no use though, her hand only moved higher up, moving under my shirt and reaching my boobs. she grasped at them for a few short minutes, before we were pulling away from eachother for air, and that was when it fully started.

when she looked into my eyes, her hands reached for the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up so that my boobs were on display for her. my nipples hardened as the cool air hit them, which just enticed her more. her lips wrapped around one of my nipples, sucking and slightly biting as her fingers found the other one. this continued for a minute or so before she switched sides, making sure both of my tits got equal attention.

it wasn't long before her fingers were pulling the waistband of my shorts again whilst she marked my chest. she pulled away from me to pull my shorts and underwear off in one swift motion, leaving me almost completely naked for her, the only thing left on my body was my shirt (her shirt) but that was pulled up. i was completely exposed. my cheeks heated up as i realised she could literally see all of me.

i whined and reached out for her, trying to pull at the clothes she was wearing.

“you want me to take these off, baby?”

i nodded at her, a desperate whine falling from my lips as she smirked at how needy i was becoming, all for her. she stood up momentarily, pulling her clothes off and dropping them on the floor with my shorts, forming a small pile of discarded clothes. as she sat back down on the bed, she started trailing her kisses down my body, starting at my lips, working her way down until she reached my clit. she placed a small gentle kiss against it before two of her fingers ran through my soaked folds. she moved my wetness around, spreading it everywhere until it coated my entire pussy, and my inner thighs.

when she was finally satisfied, her fingers pushed into her mouth, sucking my arousal off them, before reaching over for the strap. she took her time making sure it was attached properly, but i knew she was just trying to make me wait as long as possible. she knew the longer she teased, the wetter i’d be. while i was waiting for her, i squeezed my thighs together at the sight of her, trying to create a little bit of friction between them. as soon as she noticed this, she hurried up, rushing back over to spread my legs open as wide as possible, taking in the sight.

she carefully ran the tip through my folds, all of a sudden wasting no time. it wasn’t long at all before the strap was breaking through my walls, resulting in a loud, long moan coming from my mouth.

“sh shh, pretty girl. quiet for me, remember? don’t want anybody hearing.”

i covered my mouth with my hand, feeling billie speed up her thrusts inside me as i tightened around her. it was so obvious that i’d been so needy for her, even though i hadn’t said anything, because i was close already, and it had only been around ten minutes. her hands found my waist as she fucked me harder and harder, but right as i was ready to cum, billie must’ve realised because she very quickly pulled out. i let a whine slip past my lips, before realising it was a little too loud and slapped my hand over my mouth once again.

however, i didn’t even have time to complain because she was quick to flip me over onto my stomach, my breasts pressing against the soft, cool sheets. she grabbed my hips and yanked me up so that my back was arched for her, my pussy perfectly on display for her to see. i heard her groan as my wetness dripped down onto the bed, running her fingers through it once again before slamming the strap back into me all in one thrust. i practically sobbed out, but luckily it was muffled by the pillows and blankets beneath me. my hands grasped at them, and held them tight as she immediately settled on a fast pace, not even giving me time to adjust. all i could hear was my moans, and the wet noise of my pussy, echoing through my mind, not being able to focus on anything else at all. i couldn’t even think straight, too focused on cumming, so it wasn’t a shock when i let out a loud whine when billie abruptly stopped her movements.

i had no idea why she’d stopped. and maybe it should’ve stayed that way.

“why’d you stop againnnn?” i whimpered, moving my hips slightly to encourage her to move again since she was still inside me, but it was almost as if she was frozen.

“uh.. don’t worry about it, angel. let me finish you off first, yeah? is that what you want? then i can tell you after, how does that sound, hm?”

“is it something bad?” i mumbled, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion and worry as i felt her hand lightly glide along my back.

“of course not, baby. you don’t need to worry your pretty mind about it just yet, just let yourself cum first, alright?”

i nodded in response, the needy part of my brain taking over the worry, i was so close that i knew it’d only take five more minutes at most before i was cumming for her, then she could tell me. and i wasn’t wrong. three minutes later i was cumming over her strap with a loud moan into the sheets, drooling all over as i was back in that desperate state of mind.

“good girl. my good girl. so perfect for me.” i heard her speak in a soft tone as she pulled the strap out of me, helping me lay on my back while a small whine came from me. she walked out of the room quickly to get a damp washcloth, returning to the room as quick as she could. as she cleaned me up, my thoughts filled with what had previously happened. why had she stopped out of nowhere? worry clouded my thoughts as i was thinking so much clearer than i had been before.

when she clambered into bed beside me and gently pulled me into her arms with my head resting on her chest and fluffy blankets covering our naked bodies, i looked up with her with big eyes, as she was already looking down at me with a look of pure love and adoration.

“bil?” i whispered, carefully brushing some hair back from her face.

“everything okay, love?” she answered in the most caring tone.

“i was just wondering what happened when you stopped.. did i do something? was it me?” my voice was just above a whisper.

i noticed her laugh slightly and shake her head, “it wasn’t you, angel. you’re probably gonna kill me for not telling you when it happened but uhm.. my mom opened the door and saw everything.. you were just too fucked out though, huh? didn’t even hear her walk in then slam the door?”

my eyes widened and my jaw was practically on the floor as she giggled at my reaction.

“why didn’t you tell me before?!” i groaned and slapped her arm as she continued to laugh.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry! it’s just that i knew how bad we both wanted it and i wanted to make sure you got to finish before you found out. i could tell how close you were.” she smiled as my face turned red out of embarrassment.

“why did she walk in?” i mumbled, “was i being too loud?”

“oh, no baby. in fact you did a really good job at staying quiet for me, she just walked in to ask if we wanted any breakfast, but she soon walked out again..”

i groaned once again, hiding my red face in her neck as she gently scratched my scalp. i’d never felt so embarrassed in my life. and knowing that we had to  go out there at some point made it even worse. i had to face maggie after she’d just walked in the room to see me with my ass in the air whilst billie fucked me. i wished i could just teleport home so i didn’t have to face her, or maybe rewind time and make it so that she never saw anything. that’d be even better.. but obviously, none of that was going to happen, and we would have to get up at some point to get breakfast, and go through the awkward encounter i was absolutely dreading.

[miley1442111]

drunk confession-a.hotchner

-----------------------------

-----------------------------

a/n: omg i just started watching dharma and greg (another thomas gibson show) and it's so funny like wtf (greg is such an airhead its adorable)

summary: aaron admits some very cute things when he's drunk.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader

warnings: none

-----------------------------

The team constantly forgets that you and Aaron are together. You two don’t touch each other at all during the job. Both of you are very pda-averse and you like your own space. 

That does not translate to a drunk Aaron.

-----------------------------

It had been an awful case, and you’d decided to go out with the team for a few drinks. Somehow, Penelope and Derek had gotten Aaron so drunk, that his hands were all over you and he was sporting his little-seen smile. Your co-workers had decided to take the absolute piss out of him for it, which meant you were being mocked as well. 

“She’s so beautiful,” Aaron gushed to the team as he slung an arm over your shoulder.  

“Thanks baby,” you grumbled over the laughing of our coworkers. You could feel Aaron’s hand on your waist slipping lower and you knew you’d have to get him out of here before he did something down-right indecent. “How about we get you home? You look tired,” you offered and he nodded his head like an overactive puppy. 

After one more round of embarrassing questions, you finally get Aaron into a cab and back to your house, thank god this case had been in Washington. You laid him down on the bed and hurried to the bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed before Aaron got up to find you. Jack was long asleep, his babysitter left after you and Aaron came in, a surprised look on his face at seeing the man she’d known to be so put-together in such a state.

“Aar-” You started until you felt his hands on your waist and the rest of his body leaning on your. It took a lot of strength to keep both of you upright and not on the floor but you managed. 

“I wanna go to bed,” he slurred. 

“Then go back to bed,” you laughed.

“With you. Only with you.”

You giggled at him. “I’ll be there in 3 minutes, go lie down-”

“NO. I wanna do everything with you for the rest of my life, I’m not going to bed on my own,” he confessed with a shy smile. His confession sobered you up quite a bit. 

“Aaron, what?” Your chuckle got caught in your throat. 

“I wanna be with you for the rest of my life,” he smiled, puppy-dog eyes making you weak in the knees. 

“You’re drunk,” you dismissed him.

“I’m in love,” he ‘corrected’. 

“You’re very, very drunk.”

“I’m very, very in love,” he chuckled, pressing kisses up your shoulder as you washed away your makeup.  “Imagine it, we’d get married in a nice church, go on our honeymoon in Italy- where you’ve always wanted to go.”

“What about Jack?” You smiled at him. 

“He’d stay with Jessica for a couple weeks, I’d need some time to fuck you properly-”

“Aaron!” You chastised. Aaron became a lot more loose-tongued when he drank as well. 

“What? You don’t complain,” he laughed and it made you laugh. 

“You’re so drunk, and you’re going to be so embarrassed when i tell you in the morning,” you started to lead him to bed as he kept rambling on. 

“And when we get back we’ll find out you’re pregnant, It’ll be a girl, of course. You’ll have no complications and then a year later we’d be pregnant again, twins this time, so we’d have to move. It’ll be two more girls, and then our last kid will be a boy but we’ll also be preoccupied with Jack’s pre-teenager hatred phase so our youngest will probably have the most troublemaker-tendencies, but neither of us will mind because he’ll be so cute,” He smiled. “We’ll get one of those big houses in the country on a bunch of land. And I’ll stay at home with the kids, and you’ll work lecturing at a college nearby and we’ll be so far away from all the horrors of the BAU that we won’t even remember what happened before.”

You didn’t even realise it, but you were tearing up thinking about this beautiful life Aaron had planned for the two of you. 

“Doesn’t that sound nice?” He smiled and turned to you, his arms wrapping around your torso. 

“That sounds perfect,” you whispered through tears. “Perfect Aaron,” you smiled at him and kissed his cheek. 

“Good ‘cause I have the ring picked out, but don’t tell Y/n!” 

“I won’t don’t worry,” you chuckled and kissed his cheek again.

You fell asleep excited to tell him all the embarrassing things he admitted, and excited about the proposal yet to come. 

-----------------------------

Part 2: the morning after

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[revelboo]

Could we have more for "Gravity"? 🙏 reader making it her life's goal to see robot dick as soon as she realizes it flusters OP is so me-coded and I'm living for it. I love your super serious emotional fics, but I also love the human being so unserious 🤭

Honestly, same. 18+ content

Gravity Pt 9

Optimus Prime x Reader

• Pacing outside the door of his habsuite, he runs a frustrated hand over his face. Trying to get himself back in control, because you don’t realize what you do to him. Asking about that. Had it only been curiosity or was it actual interest? Why is that difference so very important to him? And something he really shouldn’t be thinking about at all. You’re his to protect, considering anything else, wanting more, is wholly inappropriate.

• Sitting cross legged on the berth where he’d left you, there’s nothing to do but wait for him to come back. Who’d have thought that one not so innocent question would send him running? Know you should let it go, but that almost panicked look on his face is just so sweet. Like the big guy himself. And you’d been straight with him, if he’d been a human guy and treated you like he does, you’d have rode him until you’re both too exhausted to crawl out of bed.

• One more thing he can’t have. Accepting that, he lets himself back inside his quarters and finds you sitting on his berth eating that crunchy, dry food out of a box. “So you got some freaky alien stuff going on like double dicks or crotch tentacles?” Gritting his denta behind his mask as you just grin up at him, he vents tiredly.

• He almost looks like he’s in pain as he just straight up ignores the question. Apparently you’ve reached the limit of how much bullshit he’s willing to put up with. Silent, he begins moving the uneaten food and his half empty energon cube off the berth and sits beside you, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Making you feel guilty about screwing with him. Especially since, realistically him abducting you probably saved your life given the path you were on. And you owe him more than you can ever hope to repay.

• “You know,” you say and he hears your little feet padding on the berth. Peeking at you, he watches you slowly spin. Dancing again and he wonders why you do that, your expression no longer teasing, but oddly empty. “The club I danced for, didn’t pay a lot. Sometimes if the customer looked like he had money, we’d have a private party.” Arms over your head, you turn so your back is to him. “And I always told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t care, because every dollar got me a little closer to getting the hell out of there.” There’s something under the resignation in your voice, something broken that makes his spark ache. Wishing he’d found you just a bit sooner, before life had scarred you.

• Wrapping your arms around yourself, you wish you could just shut up. Because telling him this, how dirty you really are? He’s not going to look at you the same way if you don’t stop. Won’t treat you the same way. And part of you knows that everything that’s wrong with your life is wholly your fault. Stubbornly doubling down again and again until there was no digging yourself out. You hear him shift behind you, a metallic rasp. Leaving again? Done with you?

• There’s an unsettling pull as he mass shifts, of willing himself smaller and burning so much energy all at once. And when he’d done, you’re still so much smaller than he is. Just this fragile little thing that still seems so unreal to him as he reaches out and pulls you back into him. Hearing your startled inhale as he catches your wrists in a big hand, unsettled that he can loop the servos of one hand so easily around both your little wrists. “You think I’m proud of every single thing I’ve done? That I haven’t made mistakes?” He asks and feels you shiver.

• Head craning to look over your shoulder and up at him, for once you can’t say anything at all. No smart ass comment or teasing. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he could do something like this. And he’s warm against your back, suddenly aware of him in a way you’d never been before. Those big hands achingly gentle on you. Has anyone ever touched you like that? Gently? It’s too much. Too real, sending you into a panic. “Please tell me it’s not crotch tentacles,” you blurt, hearing him make a noise suspiciously between a groan and a laugh as his other arm curls around you. Holding you closer.

Previous

Next

[larrylimericks]

19Oct24

No matter how mad the word made us, It always held hope — a “hiatus.”

I’m sad for so many reasons — the fundamental sadness of death, and at such a young age; having to process the mortality of someone so extraordinary it seems they should transcend a fate as ordinary as dying; aching for his family and friends; angry that he had to navigate such a cruel world, one that continues to disrespect him in death. Yes, Liam was damaged and in turn damaged others; he had demons to face and amends to make — I like to think he would have, given a chance. His talent was so immense, and there was so much more to come. I believe he would have found a way to redemption, and then had such a beautiful renaissance.

The joy of being a 1D fan has always been policed and mocked. We’ve so frequently been laughed at, dismissed for the intensity of our love for the band. And now, the world wants to do the same with our grief, questioning its legitimacy, trivializing our feelings. But this loss is real. And this grief is valid.

And the grief of losing Liam is compounded by the grief of losing so much else. He wasn’t just a celebrity. They weren’t just a boyband. He was an integral part of an integral part of our formative years — no matter how old we were when we found them. So many of us are the people we are in part because of the people they are. Were. We’ve lost a beloved one, we’ve lost innocence, we’ve lost inspiration, we’ve lost a piece of our foundation.

We’ve lost hope.

It used to frustrate me, in retrospect, that they called it a “hiatus.” It felt dishonest — like a gentle lie to let us down easy. Why couldn’t they just say it was over? That being a boy band has a built-in shelf life, and it was time to explore solo careers. But now I understand the kindness in that word. For hope springs eternal, and it didn’t matter if it never came. All that matters was that it might. And “hiatus” wasn’t just for us; it held their optimism too. Especially Liam’s. It left the door open, even if only a crack, for the possibility of something more.

It’s been a remarkable gift to watch each one find his own path and his own voice. But when they announced a hiatus in 2015, they planted a seed of hope that someday we’d see the unrivaled magic of those boys on stage together again — the greatest team the world has ever seen. Maybe Zayn would join, probably not. Maybe it would’ve been a one-off thing for charity or a special anniversary. Maybe it would be in their 50s when the allure of easy money from a reunion tour was too tempting to resist. But surely, eventually, 1D would reunite in some capacity. I was excited to see how their once frenetic energy and youthful antics would meld with the mature solo artists they’ve become.

That hope sustained us through 18 months and eventually eight years, but now the hiatus is over. I would have happily clowned for every remaining day of my life than know this new certainty brought by the finality of Liam’s death. Maybe, someday, there will be a memorial performance. Maybe we’ll see three or four out of five come together to honor him — and what a poignant testament it will be that Liam was what could bring them together. Or maybe it will never feel right to them to take the stage without him, and that, too, will make all the sense in the world.

I wish I had an uplifting ending for this post. I don’t. I wake up and my first thought is “Liam isn’t here anymore,” and then I go about my day with that relentless realization lurking around the corner of every mundane task I do.

I haven’t been able to listen to their music yet. It’s a cruel trick that the thing that always brought comfort is now a trigger for grief. But I hope that will soon change. That, at some point, I’ll put on WMYB, get choked up at “You’re insecure” and second-guess my readiness. But then jump to History, and find solace in the lyrics that are currently rattling around my brain but aren’t ready to be heard yet: “This is not the end, this is not the end” … “We can live forever.”

❯❯❯❯

[runnning-outof-time]

The Special Touch | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: A small, small detail brings back memories of a person in Tommy Shelby’s life that was able to do something not many can.

Warnings: language, drinking

Word Count: 3102

A/N: the structure of this one’s a little wonky, but I think it reads cohesively…I hope it comes off that way for you. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the italicized dialogue in the story is taken directly from season 1 of the show.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

(Y/N)'s food was the only thing Tommy Shelby actually ate.

Sure, he still didn't willingly sit himself at the table when it came time for a meal, but (Y/N)'s cooking coaxed him in more often than it didn't.

What started as a woman trying to impress the family of a man she dearly liked - that form of impressing coming through a lovely, homemade apple pie - quickly blossomed into (Y/N) being the Shelby family cook. Polly was probably the happiest about this - she no longer had to tackle the family meals alone.

Tommy was also happy about this - being that he quickly made sure that she was his - because it meant that he was able to spend much more time with her. Hell, he'd even happily endure the enhanced teasing from his family...Tommy hadn't spent this much time at home since he was a child. But (Y/N), and her cooking, had him coming home more often than anything else.

And he enjoyed it.

On this particular evening, she had decided to make some plum bread to bring to the Shelby family. It was one of her favorite recipes, one that she only brought out every once in a while.

Tonight would be a special night for it, she thought. She and Tommy had been officially together for eight months, but it was on this night one year ago that they shared their feelings with each other and decided that they’d commit themselves to one another.

She worked all day to make the bread not only for this occasion, but also because she wanted to see if his family liked it as much as hers did.

It was late afternoon when she made her way over to the house on Watery Lane. She hoped that everyone was home because with each step her eagerness was building - she wanted as many people as possible to try the bread she’d baked.

She could hear the inhabitants of the house before she saw them as she entered through the front door.

She heard Tommy speak in a low voice, “you’re alright,” as the sound of pain-filled hisses filled the room.

Then came a statement that made (Y/N) stop: “he said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said…something about a robbery.” It was Arthur who was speaking. “He said he wants us to help him.”

“We don’t help coppers,” she heard John chime in.

“He knew all about our war records,” Arthur continued, “he said we’re patriots…like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said—” another pain-filled hiss left the eldest siblings lips, and it was followed by a soft ‘shh’. He continued once the pain had been assuaged, “I said we’d have a family meeting and take a vote,” he finished his statement.

A pause filled the room. (Y/N), who’d been standing still and listening in since she entered the dwelling, couldn’t stand in the same position any longer. Despite her efforts not to, her weight shifted, making the floorboard creak underneath her foot.

Tommy looked up from the ground upon hearing the sound, and his intense gaze connected with her worried one instantly. “We’ll discuss this later,” he then addressed his family in a low tone.

“What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” Arthur asked, annoyance laced into his tone.

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s chemists,” Polly chimed in, her tone matching Arthur’s.

Tommy’s eyes were still locked on (Y/N), who now felt like she had to make her presence known. She took a few steps forward into the room before speaking, “I’m sorry I…I didn’t know what I was arriving to,” she hesitantly said, feeling several pairs of eyes now locked onto her. She tried to withhold her expression, but surely there was a look of pain present on her face as she took in Arthur’s bloodied one. “Goodness,” she gasped, the tension quickly becoming too much for her to bear, “I…I wanted to bring something over for the evening. I baked plum bread from scratch,” she said, holding the enclosed tray out in front of her.

“Well isn’t that just bloody perfect,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

Silence hung in the room and (Y/N) wasn’t quite sure what to do. It seemed like every person in the family was glaring daggers at Tommy, and Tommy was just standing, brooding in front of the free-standing stove.

“I can just…I can leave and come back at a better…”

“No!” John interrupted her, pushing himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against, “you’re here now, so let’s try some of this bread.”

“Ok,” there was still a great deal of hesitance present in (Y/N)’s voice, but she still allowed John to take the tray from her hands when he motioned for it. She then glanced in Tommy’s direction, seeing that he was still glaring at the floor. Above everything else, she really wanted to speak to him. The conversation she walked in on was still in the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t sure how to make the first move though.

“Oh, (Y/N), this is grand!” John’s review of the bread cut through her thoughts, making her focus on the small group that was now trying it. Ada nodded her head in agreement with her brother as Polly quietly ate her piece. She didn’t look displeased with it though. Arthur was still staring at the piece that had been placed in front of him. (Y/N) figured he wouldn’t eat it that moment though, given the state he was currently in. A small smile creeped onto her face as she watched them enjoy the thing she’d spent so long baking.

“Tommy you’ve got to try it! It’s absolutely amazing, as always,” Ada said to her older brother, hoping that her shining review would coax him into having a bite.

“I’ll have some later,” he brushed her statement off, his eyes finding (Y/N) again. “(Y/N), can I talk to you?” he asked her then, his brows raising slightly.

“Yes,” she answered softly, knowing there really wasn’t any other response she could give.

He nodded before tipping his head in the direction of the betting shop doors. She nodded in agreement, wordlessly following behind him as they went into that section of the building.

The walk felt so long, even though they were really only moving to the next room over. (Y/N) bit on her cheek as she tried to think of what to say. She knew she wanted to be the first to speak. “What did I walk in on back there?” was what she settled on asking as they both came to a stop.

“It was nothing,” Tommy brushed the question off.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” she doubled down, not buying his diversion. “Who has Mr. Churchill sent?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he tried another escape route.

“You’re helping the cops now?” she asked another question.

“(Y/N)…” his tone held a warning.

“Why does Arthur look like that?” her exasperation finally shined through this question as she motioned to the room they’d just left.

Tommy exhaled a sigh as he looked away from his partner. It was already enough that his entire family was coming down on him…he didn’t need it from her as well. “This isn’t something you need to worry about, (Y/N),” he told her once he composed himself.

“You said you wouldn’t hold anything from me, Tommy,” she reminded him of a promise that he made to her in their early months. A promise that came as a result of him showing up to her family’s house broken and bloodied…over something he couldn’t share.

Her parents hated him from that day forward, but she found a way to continue to see him. He assured her that would be the last time nothing was withheld…until now it seems.

“This is different,” he shook his head.

“Different how?” she asked for him to elaborate.

“Different in the sense that if it all goes according to plan, we move up in the world,” his elaboration was still vague.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s all I can share,” his tone was now dismissive as he lifted his hand, his palm to the ceiling.

(Y/N) stared at him for a few moments, silently hoping that he’d take that statement back and clue her in to what was going on. She had to bite on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering after those moments had passed and nothing more was said.

“Well I think I need to leave then,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.

Tommy’s brows furrowed at her statement, “what?”

“You promised that you wouldn’t keep anything from me, that there’d be no secrets in regards to what sort of business you’re doing,” she reminded him, “we agreed that that would be the only way we could work.”

“I said that this was different, (Y/N),” he argued his cause, “there has to be an exception for it.”

“I can’t make an exception, Tommy,” she shook her head, her tone slightly wavering, “because if I make one now, you’ll have me making another down the road.”

“(Y/N), I don’t need this…”

“Do you know what day it is, Tommy?” she cut him off, her eyebrows raised. He said nothing. “Huh?” she asked for a response. Silence was all she got. “You don’t…” she sighed in defeat, shaking her head as she looked to the floor. “It’s been a year…one whole year since we shared our feelings for each other. One whole year since I thought I found the person who I was going to be with for the rest of my life. But now I don’t know anymore…”

“(Y/N)…” he tried to get out but she wasn’t hearing it.

“This is your last chance,” she gave him the ultimatum, “tell me or I leave.”

The tension between the two was practically palpable. (Y/N) waited on bated breath for him to share what he’d been hiding from her. Tommy weighed his options in his mind - no one knew that he still had the guns in his possession. He was hoping that the last person who knew was (Y/N). But now since she stumbled in on that conversation, she wanted to know more. He’d remembered the promise he made those several months ago. And while the last thing he wanted to do was break it, he just couldn’t bring himself to reveal the secret he was withholding from the entire family. If she knew, everyone would know, was his thinking.

“I’m leaving,” she made her decision, cutting into his thoughts and making him realize that he hadn’t said anything.

She took one last look at him, honestly still hoping that he’d make some grand gesture and save everything, but he just stood there, a look of disbelief clear across his face. She had to follow through with her decision. With a deep breath, she walked past him and exited the building through the betting shop door. Turning and walking back past the family would have been too much for her. She needed to get away with the least amount of Shelbys seeing her.

Tommy blinked a few times after the door to the shop closed. He was frozen in disbelief. So much had happened in the span of a short time. And now (Y/N) was gone.

He remembered the bottle of rum that he’d brought for Arthur’s wounds. It wasn’t whiskey, but the last thing he wanted to do was go out now, so the rum would do.

Polly, John and Arthur were still sitting in the kitchen when he re-entered it. He didn’t make eye contact with any of them, instead making a b-line for the bottle of alcohol and bringing it to his lips the second he had it in his hands.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Arthur questioned, looking less bloody now than he had before.

“She left,” Tommy answered before taking another drink from the bottle.

“Shame…this bread’s fucking amazing,” John shared his praises for the woman’s baking skills. “You should try some,” he insisted.

“I don’t want any,” Tommy shook his head.

“Try some!” Arthur shouted, motioning to the small portion of the bread that was left, “before we eat it all on ya.”

“Fine,” Tommy huffed under his breath, moving over to where the baked good was sitting. He took the knife and cut himself the smallest slice, putting it right into his mouth and eating it without giving any clue as to what he thought of it. He then walked out of the room, exiting the home the opposite way (Y/N) had.

The three remaining people in the room all watched him leave, wondering what exactly was making him even more vexed than usual.

“More for us,” John shrugged, his carefree comment clearing the tension as he moved over to cut himself another slice of the bread.

Tommy returned to the house on Watery Lane later that evening and let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

There was still a small piece of the plum bread (Y/N) had brought over left of the table. He sighed as he sat down on one of the chairs before reaching out to take the leftover piece.

Another sigh left his lips as he ate the bread. He couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his mind since she left him earlier, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fighting with himself over what he should do now.

As much as he wanted her in his life, he had to honor her wishes. And even if she posed the earlier question to him again, he wasn’t sure if he’d give a different response. What was happening now was different…he had to keep his cards close to his chest. She should have understood that, right?

He couldn’t deny that he missed her though. The fact that he actually came back to have a second piece of the bread she made for them had him realizing that there would be many reasons why he’d be missing her.

“I have something for you,” the barmaid, Grace, announced as she entered the snug, where the three oldest Shelby brothers had been holed up for the majority of the day. She’d been working at the Garrison for several months now, and she’d quickly found her place within the establishment.

“What is it?” Arthur asked as he brought his glass up to his lips, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Plum bread. I made it…figured you’d need something after all of the meetings that have been happening,” she answered, explaining the reason behind the gesture.

John and Arthur exchanged a look upon hearing what she’d brought. They hadn’t had plum bread since (Y/N) left it for them. Hesitantly, they looked over at Tommy. His expression wasn’t readable.

“Leave it on the table and then you’re good to go, Grace,” Tommy spoke up to instruct her. He felt his brothers’ eyes on him, and knew that they’d be watching closely to see what he’d do next.

“Ok,” she nodded, carefully setting the serving dish and accompanying plates on the table before she turned and exited the snug.

The three men looked at the bread for a few moments. John and Arthur both didn’t want to be the first to make a move, and they most certainly knew that Tommy wasn’t going to.

It was kind of Grace to bake for them, and they no doubt took it as one of her attempts to break the ice between her and the Shelby family. She’d been chipping away at it since she arrived months ago.

But the elephant in the room was looming large now, and it had made itself known via the choice of baked good that the aforementioned blonde woman had brought.

“Shall we try it then?” Arthur was the first to finally speak up. He took his eyes off the dish for a moment to look at his brothers.

“Might as well,” John shrugged as he replied.

Now they both were looking at Tommy. It became apparent that they weren’t going to make a move until he signed off on it. “Go on,” he finally instructed them, motioning to the bread with his chin.

That was all the two men needed. Arthur took on the job of cutting the bread while John divvied out the plates. They even cut a piece for Tommy, who didn’t seem like he was too keen on eating it.

What they did not need was an invitation to eat the bread. More silence filled the room as they did so. It took a few bites from both of them before they were sharing a look with each other. Something had been silently agreed upon between them, and now they were deciding whether they should share their thoughts with Tommy.

“How is it?” Tommy broke into their nonverbal conversation, knowing the looks they were sharing all too well.

“It’s…” Arthur started, finishing his statement off with a breath instead of continuing before he looked to John for assistance. Between the two of them, he knew the latter was a more colorful commentator.

“It’s not like hers,” John filled in the blank, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at the remaining piece of bread on his plate.

The name didn’t even need to be said. Tommy knew who they were taking about. He exhaled a breath before nodding his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the piece sitting in front of him.

“She ain’t got that special touch like (Y/N) did,” Arthur then added his thoughts, addressing the elephant in the room by name.

Tommy’s look was once again unreadable. Glimpses of the woman he’d lost were swirling around his mind, and they wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes he wished he would have done things differently. He wished she was still in his life.

What’s done is done was always what came to mind when he got to thinking like that. But even though that phrase came to mind, he still wasn’t going to try the bread, for his remembrance of how she made it was one of the only good things he had left.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @mischievouslittlecreature

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername

@depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium

@brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

@shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[lunajay33]

Desperate🍂

Summary: Embry was your best friend since birth never a day without him and when he magically disappeared from your life it shattered your world, desperate to just see him one more time

Pairing: Embry Call x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Being born in forks with your twin sister Bella, it was a crazy start, mom hated it here and took Bella with her leaving me with my dad, the chief of police Charlie Swan, we had a simple life and I loved it we’d have supper together most nights talking about our days, he treated me good he never went a day without making me feel loved, when mom left taking only Bella, I remember her saying I was too much to handle that Bella was quiet and would be easy, after that I feel incredibly bad about myself but Embry was there, even as kids he was always there for me and I was there for him

Today we planned to go to La Push beach and have the whole day together so I got in my shared truck with Bella since she moved back now, and drove down to the beach

Parking in my usual spot and walking down to the beach, taking off my shoes I let the sand cover my feet as I sat in the spot Embry and I always hung out in, close to the water so the breeze from the ocean could relax us, he always said it was his favorite thing to do, just sit with me enjoy the moments we shared

An hour had passed and still no embry so I decided to go to the little shack on the beach and get an ice cream, after getting my favorite flavour I went back to the spot seeing Embry finally here, quick to sit next to him

“Hey Em what took you so long?” I asked as he wrapped his arm around my waist

“Sorry sweets slept through my alarm but we still have the rest of the day right?!” He said smiling down at me, over the last couple of months he’s shot up in height and has become way leaner and muscular

“Of course!” We spent the next few hours walking along the shore with our shoes off, walking through the trees near the beach, getting more ice cream since he was complaining how hot he was even though it was a typical cool cloudy day in La push

Soon he was turning more red and getting light headed then angry, which I’ve never seen before

“I have to go, I’m sorry” he said running to his truck and driving off leaving me confused, finishing the day early I drove back home where it had become gloomy, Bella was always screaming at night and dad and I would barely get sleep anymore, some nights I was allowed to stay over at Embrys to help

I hung up my coat and made my way to the phone dialing Embrys home phone, it rang and rang and rang, sighing I left a message hoping he’d listen and call me back letting me know if he was okay

I slumped down at the dinner table picking at the fries feeling like something was wrong

“You okay kiddo?” Dad asked from across the table

“Yeah it’s just, something happened with Em today, he might be sick I’m just worried”

“I’m sure he’s fine! He’ll probably call you in the morning”

“Yeah I guess”

It’s been a month with no word from Embry, I called all the time only getting word from his mom saying he’s severely sick but I couldn’t believe it, and now I know how Bella feels well felt, she’s been hanging with Jacob and seems to be getting better now I’m the gloom of the house

“Kid you can’t stay in the house all the time outside of school, go for a walk at the beach or something I know you love that” his words made tears bead along my waterline

“Dad you don’t understand, I need him it feels like somethings broken in me, he’s never done this to me before I mean did I do something wrong?” I cried into my hands

“Honey you couldn’t do anything wrong you’re my like sweetheart, maybe he’s just going through something, maybe go for a little hike get some fresh air”

“Fine” I pulled on my shoes and left out the back door walking the trail all the way till I got to the jumping cliff, Embry had taken me here many times because it gave a great view of the ocean, he once even set up a picnic for my birthday

I love embry I always have but I could never admit that to him and risk the friendship we have

After about an hour I was ready to leave when I heard a growl from behind me, turning slowly full of fear with the recent hiker attacks, glowing yellow eyes in the trees as it had gotten dark, but when I heard a whine my fear disappeared

“Hello?” I asked stepping closer

Another whine was heard before a huge wolf emerged from the trees and my breathe was taken from me, it came nearer pressing its snout against my palm as I started running my hair through its beautiful fur

“You remind me of someone, you’re so gentle, I had a friend he was my best friend, I loved him but he’s gone now, I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again if he ever wants to even see me again, I guess I just miss him” I don’t know why but spilling my heart out to this gentle giant made that weight of my chest lighter, the wolf licked my face before walking back into the woods

Another rustle was heard in the trees and a few seconds later the last person I expected to see came walking towards me, Embry but he was even stronger and taller and his hair was cut and a tattoo

“Em? Where did you come from?”

“It’s me well I mean…..that the wolf……it’s me”

“What but how you can’t be……” but then all the stories of the tribe I heard over the years came flooding back, descended from wolves

“By that look I think you already know, I never wanted to leave you god it killed me to be apart from you but that day……that day I got sick I was changing, there’s more of us, Sam Jared Paul, but it’s a secret you already know that, but when we change anger runs out entire life it wasn’t safe to be around you, I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you, but then I caught your scent out here and I couldn’t take it anymore I had to see you”

“But if it’s a secret why are you telling me everything?”

“This is crazy but, people in our pack we have soulmates, picked when we are born the person who’s our other half, each wolf has an imprint and when you see them it’s like your whole world changes everything is about her, she’s your life the one that keeps you going”

My heart dropped the way he was explaining everything sounded like he already found her

“Have you….have you already got an imprint, you’ve found your soulmate” I said my voice shaking as my lip quivered

“I have and I knew, I’ve always known it’s only ever been you, I love you, forever”

“Forever Em”

[trashmouth-richie]

: *✧･ﾟeddie x female reader | snowed in | 18+ smut [6K]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* sexual tension lingers when you + your bestfriend get snowed in together during the biggest blizzard on record - aka, eddie munson and the blizzard sex in apartment 4D

“So that’s how you would find x,” you say tapping the rubber eraser to your notebook paper, “is this making any sense?” 

When you agreed to come help Eddie study you were glad to do it. Ever since you were kids he had always struggled with school. While he was able to skate through elementary and middle school, high school had been harder for him. And he would be the first to admit that it was you that got him through his final year at Hawkins High. 

Now, many states away, at a college where the only person he knew was you— he was falling behind.

Having a new found freedom of college professors genuinely not caring if you showed up to class or not, he took advantage of that perk and decided to not attend his eight AM class monday, wednesday, and definitely not friday. 

Assignments went undone, tests were skipped and forgotten about. Weekday ragers, mid morning hangovers, and late night shifts as a barback at O’Houllihan’s kept Eddie busy but not enough to excuse his lack of attendance.

The end of the semester was nearing, and Eddie was looking at failing remedial algebra. A class that meant he was already behind everyone else, and if he were to fail— he’d be kicked out left to pack his shit and head back home. 

After an ass chewing over thanksgiving break from a disappointed Wayne, that icy blue stare nearly welling with traitorous tears, Eddie finally decided to pull his head out of his ass and study for his last semester of junior year.

“You’d think after dealin’ for Rick all through high school that math would be a fuckin’ no brainer.” Eddie huffed, sitting back in his desk chair, his long thick fingers folded behind his head, “maybe if they added dime bags and some half ounces, I’d actually understand this shit.”

You snickered, pushing eraser shavings from the page with your fingers, “think Mr. Walter would go for it, he totally ate his fair share of shrooms in the 60’s.” 

“Mother fucker probably invented them.” Eddie agreed, dragging those big hands down his face with a groan, “godddd I hate school.” 

You close the Algebra book and shove it into Eddie’s backpack zipping it up, “oh you poor thing, must be hard to be musically talented and go to college on a full ride scholarship.” Your bottom lip pops out to show your fake sympathy and Eddie returns it with an eye roll and a middle finger. 

“Shit,” he sighs, blowing air through his lips standing and running his fingers over your jacket on the back of his chair, “didn’t even think I’d get in let alone have all of my tuition paid for, besides.. you’re the one who was going to leave me for dead back home Miss This-Will-Look-Perfect-On-My-College-Applic—ow!” 

Your friendship with Eddie was never a casual thing. 

You were friends, sure, but it was somehow more than that. Eddie had dated around in high school and you had too but they never lasted. Summer of senior year you had even been so close as almost sharing a kiss while drunk on Boonesfarm at Byers’ party— something you both denied ever happening. But something you also both stayed up at night thinking about unbeknownst to one another. 

That June night was burned into your brain, and you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours. 

“I wasn’t going to leave you for dead!” you teased, giggling as Eddie nursed his ‘injury’ after the pencil you had been holding slammed into his soft hoodie, “I told you we’d find a way for you to come with me.” 

Eddie smiled and bit his lip, he was grateful that you were willing to do whatever it took to get him into college. And he was stunned stupid when his creative writing, and an autobiography that was assigned freshman year had gotten the attention of not one, but two of the bigger colleges you had also applied to. 

He swore he never submitted them, deciding at the last minute that college wasn’t for him and that he didn’t want to leave his uncle behind— so you and Wayne both did it for him. Licking envelopes and sticking stamps, praying on a trailer park dream that Eddie could get in. 

“Always lookin’ out for me aren’t ya?” He mused, his cheeks burning with a blush on his porcelain skin. 

“We look out for each other, Eddie,” you say cheerfully, “Always have.” 

Eddie stares as you read through your notes, eyeing the little piece of hair that falls into your eyes, too short to shove behind your ear. He remembers when you got glasses, how you hated them. Loathed the way they made your face look, and how the wire rims sat on your round cheeks. Now they’re pushed on top of your head, pulling your hair back so the light in his room shone on your silky skin. 

You were beautiful. 

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you stretch with arms over your head, fingers laced together. Eddie snuck a glance at you, noticing that your soft cardigan fit too big on the sleeves and the plain shirt you wore underneath was riding up your stomach, showing a strip of skin that he only got to see during the summer time. 

He wasn’t sure when he started noticing you were more to him than just a friend— that’s a lie, Eddie knew the exact moment, the exact second. 

He skipped out on dates, said no when Rick’s girlfriend offered to “show him the ropes” one night when he was waaay too high and was blabbing away about how he didn’t know why he ended things with every other girl he had been with.  

It was obvious why. Maybe to everyone but him and to you. 

“I’ve had enough studying for tonight,” Eddie says, cracking his back, “wanna go to a movie or somethin? Channel 6 said we are in for some snow… I can drive, we can sneak in some shrooms Pete left, I might have some k laying around here somewhere.” 

You giggle reaching back to the bed and gathering your stuff. “Nothing about being high at the movie theater sounds good to me, Eddie.” 

He rolls his eyes, “yeah because you always freak out, weed is s’posed to be relaxing.” 

For whatever reason, weed was never that for you. It left you paranoid and skittish, but mostly clinging to Eddie with wide horrified eyes, whispering about how you couldn’t feel your legs. 

“Thanks, but not tonight,” you say behind your hand as a yawn escapes, “I gotta work in an hour and Sal said if I’m late one more time he’s gonna fire me.” 

“Ppffft, he’s not gonna fire you, fucker can’t afford to lose anyone at that shithole.” 

You grab your bag and look for your shoes, shrugging.

“Tips are good, all I have to do is bat my eyelashes a few times and they fork the dough over. Plus! Mikey always saves me a burger when he shuts the kitchen down. Win-win.”

He stands with a cross to his brows and when he doesn’t say anything you pull at the sleeve on his hoodie, “come on, walk me out. ” 

Eddie hated your job. Hated that you worked at the sleaziest bar in town. The thought of you flirting with drunk guys to make a little extra money made him sick. 

He’s mumbling under his breath the short walk to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and pulling the door open with dramatic flair, he bows with a hand forward to let you exit. You laugh, and before you can say bye, before you’re crossing the threshold Eddie pipes up in a serious voice.

“Tomorrow. Movies. You, me, a bucket of over buttered popcorn… I’ll even buy you a Cherry Coke.” 

Heat warms your cheeks under his stare, and you can’t help but smile back at him. That nagging feeling you couldn’t pinpoint was hung thick between the two of you again, and you looked anywhere but at him. 

Taking time to examine the veins on his hand as it gripped the door handle, the way his eyelashes seem to have their own permanent curl to them…. “add a pack of twizzlers and you got yourself a deal, Munson.” 

He smiles as you step into the soft lit hallway of the fourth floor. “Don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes and laugh, he’s standing in the doorway, the door partly closed behind him, “see you later, better hurry—you’re gonna be late.” 

Eddie watches as you head for the stairs. His heart pumping wildly in his chest, but why? You two were friends. What was he even doing?

Shutting the door he slides the bolt into place pressing his forehead into the wood, a low groan escaping from his lips. What the hell was he doing? He runs the conversation back over in his head mocking himself as he strips off his hoodie and t-shirt, tossing them around his shared apartment. 

“You and me and buttered popcorn’ Christ Munson, get it together.” Flopping on the couch Eddie sighs loudly, saying your name out loud and letting a smile quirk on his lips as he drifts to sleep.

❆ ❆ ❆

Frantic knocks pull him from his catnap and he rolls his eyes as the knocks turn to pounding. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep for but it was now dark, his apartment cast into complete inky blackness. 

Pete probably forgot his keys, again, he thinks. Bounding to the door and flinging it open an annoyed expression on his face. But it’s not Pete at the door, it’s you. 

Snowflakes, and chunks of ice were matted in your wind blown hair, your teeth chattered loudly as you tried to force a small smile, wiping a tear away from your eye.

“Jesus! Are you alright?” 

Eddie pulls you inside rubbing your arms to bring warmth back into them. He listens as you sob about getting stuck in the ditch on the way to work, and how the only landmark you could make out was Eddie’s apartment, so you made the decision to leave your car and trek back the way you had come. 

He huffs in a worried tone, flicking on the lights and watching as they sputter to life. You’re gently trying to pry the gloves from your fingers when he steps in to help and unzips your jacket, assessing you further as he realizes you are covered in snow. 

“You walked here?!” 

Eddie always yelled when he was worried or scared, a bad habit that he unknowingly picked up from Wayne. 

The tears flow down your face now in a frozen river, the ache of numb limbs and nearly frostbitten skin has you crying out in pain.  

“I should have st-stayed in the car, but it was so cold Eddie, and th-the snow is coming down so hard, nothing in town is open! N-no one on the streets, not even a snow plow.”

Eddie leaves you to throw open the crooked blinds. Not a single street lamp was on, the city looked deserted except for the howling wind and sheets of snow blanketing the ground, swallowing up the roads. If he were to look hard enough he’d see the waist deep path you had made to get here. 

Doubling back to your shivering body, his mind was scrambling on what to do. “Christ! You’re lucky you’re not dead!” 

“I know,” you wail, unable to stop the clacking of your teeth, “b-but I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Wayne had taught Eddie many things in his time of caring for his nephew. How to fish, how to hunt, how to be a respected man (that he was still trying to master) But something that always stuck with Eddie was the fear of the elements and how you could die from a heat stroke or the opposite—freeze to death.

“You gotta warm up before you pass out or something, your clothes are soaked, they need to come off.” He shakes his head like a parent finding their teen sneaking out of the house. “Go to my room, undress and I’ll make some coffee.” 

Your clothes were stiff and heavy as you peeled them from your body. Clumps of snow littering the carpet of Eddie’s room as you stripped with shaky fingers and shivering limbs. If you weren’t freezing you would have thought about how strange it was to be naked in your bestfriends room, but at your current state you could barely register what you were doing. 

His bed was warm as you sat under a blanket, the entire thing webbed around your head down to your toes, only leaving your face exposed. 

A low ring sounds from the kitchen and you hear Eddie move around to answer the phone. You couldn’t remember a single time where you felt this cold. Even doing your traditional New Year’s eve plunge into Lover’s Lake with Eddie every year was warmer than this. 

It could have been ten minutes or an hour before Eddie came into his room. He was balancing two cups of coffee and a plate stacked with two grilled cheese sandwiches. 

“Alright Frosty,” Eddie jokes lightheartedly, eyeing your heap of clothes. Clearing his throat, his cheeks pink as he starts to ramble, “h-hope you’re hungry, because this is all I know how to make and I can’t go to the grocery store to get anything else.” 

“Smells good,” you manage through shivered lungs and rattling teeth, “thank you.” 

He sets down the mugs on his nightstand, adjusting it so you could both reach as he sat beside you, then deciding to grab one and moving closer, taking a big gulp before he sits back. 

“Probably shouldn’t hold a cup yet, you’ll burn yourself.” 

He waits for your hands to wrap around the porcelain and he gently tips the cup towards your lips. The coffee seems to seep through your bones, warming you up ever so slightly as you convince your throat to cooperate and swallow. It was heaven.

“Always looking out for me, Munson,” you say with a little smile, your eyes meeting his.

He holds your gaze for longer than he ever has, not saying a word just staring endlessly into your eyes. A smile creeps to his lips and he hums softly in agreement. 

A beat passes of Eddie carefully helping you sip at the coffee, and you begin to feel your fingers thaw, yet the chill in your body is still prevalent and you shake beneath the heavy blanket. 

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch again as he contemplates how to help. A hot shower would only make it worse, causing your body to go into shock. But you needed to get warmer. His mind is working a mile a second but it comes down to the same thing, there’s only one thing he knows of for sure that will help. 

Kneeling in front of you Eddie reaches forward and touches your cheek. “Hey, I need you to know that all I’m trying to do is help you okay? Cause right now you are shivering and your lips are changing color… so I need— I … shit, I’m going to hold you, so that my body temperature can help get yours back up.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, glassy eyes barely open. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks almost shamefully, “Because its—”

“Yes, Please.” 

“Okay, okay okay,” Eddie moves the end table and positions himself in front of you again, pulling gently at the blanket wrapped around you until you’re only sitting in your bra and panties, but he doesn’t look. Instead he positions himself behind you and wraps the blanket behind the both of you. 

He winces when your cold skin presses into his chest, “goddamn, you’re freezing.” 

You muster a small giggle in response. His skin feels like fire against yours, almost painful as your body temperature fights to calibrate with his own. 

Any other day you’d have been embarrassed to have Eddie see you like this, mismatched undergarments and looking sickly, and you would definitely feel something more than anything but tired with your bodies huddled together under the blanket. 

His warm calloused hands run up the length of your arms and down your knees to your ankles and up again. You can feel the press of his belt buckle into your lower back, the heat from it almost branding your flesh like cattle on a ranch. 

You welcomed his body warmth with open arms, his hands melted you, and fuck— they felt amazing on your frozen skin. Your teeth chatter as your hands huddle around your mouth, blowing any warmth into them you can, trying to stifle a small escaped mmmf.

Given the circumstances, Eddie is relatively calm. He’s not letting himself register that he is touching you, that his bare chest is against your soft back. That your skin, although ice fucking cold, is smooth like silk, he’s not comprehending that you’re both half naked in his bed. 

No— he’s not doing any of that. Because you are his friend, and you were going to get sick if you didn’t warm up soon, and he was helping you. 

Nevermind that your clothes were cluttered on his floor. 

Nevermind that you were wearing a lacy pink bra, a color that he definitely didn’t know the proper name of. 

It didn’t matter that your breathing seemed to hitch a bit when his hands worked up your knees and skimmed along your waist, his thumbs rubbing over the string of stretchy fabric sitting high past your hips. 

You were Eddie’s friend, he was your friend, and that’s all that matt— jesus christ are y— are you enjoying this? 

No, no. He’s mistaken. His voice was almost gravely when he collected his thoughts. “Is this okay? Are you feeling better?”

Answering with a nod you lay your head back against his shoulder, “feels good, your hands… s’ warm.” 

Eddie takes the opportunity to nuzzle his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder, wrapping himself around you in a hug. “For the record, there won’t ever be a day where I won’t look out for you, sweetheart.” 

If your cheeks could heat up they would burn, but right now the frozen butterflies in your belly warm up and flutter around, causing a sheepish little grin to paint your lips. 

“Really?” you whisper, tracing the top of his hand delicately with your finger tips.  

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs lightheartedly, “can’t imagine not having you.” He goes rigid, stumbling over his words, realizing what he just said, “n—not having you in my life, as a friend.” 

The silence grows loud and Eddie panics, but you haven’t pulled away yet.. in fact you haven’t said anything at all. He was aching to know what was going through your head. 

“Have you… thought of having me another way?” 

“What?”

Your own heart is pumping so fast all the cold has left your extremities. It was either now or never knowing, and missing this opportunity so perfectly laid out like you had in June years ago wasn’t something you are willing to do again. 

“Have you thought about us.. being more than what we are now, more than this.” 

Eddie, ever the brave, takes a deep breath steadying his hands on your knees in a slight grip, “yeah, yeah I have.” 

“Oh,” you choke out.

Oh? A word of multitude meanings. It’s silent again, only the roaring wind outside to accompany the wild beating hearts in Apartment 4D. 

Before either of you could say anything more, the lights flickered once, twice, and finally went out for good. 

“Shit,” Eddie breathes behind you, and he tries to move but you hold him where he is: with you, holding you, touching you. 

“Do you remember the summer after Senior Year? When Jonathan threw that party at Hopper’s abandoned cabin?” 

Of course he remembered, the smell of your vanilla perfume still stung his nose from time to time, even though you had switched to a different one, Eddie never forgot how your skin glistened, how your hair smelled of sticky honey and vanilla. He found himself drowning in that memory of you often. 

“Yeah,” he swallows, “I do.” 

It's easier in the dark to ask these kinds of questions, easier to answer them also. Like the dark casted a veil of trust and zero judgment. As if whatever you were admitting would stay here forever, in the inky dark, beneath the heat of Eddie’s warm arms and a hand me down blanket.  

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” your voice was small and meek, but beneath your skin your heart thundered. 

He lets out a shuddering breath past your shoulder, one that raises goosebumps against your bare skin. “I didn’t know you wanted that from me.” 

Before you can object Eddie continues, “you made me nervous back then… I couldn't think, and I don’t— didn’t— want to ruin it.” 

“And now?” You ask, moving Eddie’s hands like a puppet master so they skim up your hips and around your middle, cupping just below your foreign shaded pink bra. “Do I still make you nervous?” 

He swallowed audibly, but he took back control of his hands and rested them below your ribs, circling your skin in lazy patterns, his thumb nail catching on the underwire. 

“Well,” he whispers against your shoulder, his lips hovering idly over your pebbled skin, “I’ve had years to fantasize about it.” 

“Fantasize?”

“Mhmm,” he confirms, lowering his mouth impossibly lower to your skin, “can’t get you outta my head.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and your body is pulsating with want, warming from the inside out, no longer shivering from the freezing temperatures but from him.

You needed your hands on him. Now. 

Lifting your arms to escape the warmth of the blanket,  you reach backward to cradle them behind his neck. Weaving them through his soft curls as you arch your back and pull him toward you. 

A groan escapes his lips and you shudder in response, unable to take one more minute without his lips on you, you turn around and balance on your knees between his legs.  

He’s too pretty like this, nothing but the shadows of the storm on his face and bare chest. A haze in his eyes as they roam over your body. A strangled fuck slips from his lips and he’s all but drooling like a puppy at the sight of you like this in front of him. 

“C’mere,” he nearly whispers, gesturing with his fingers and patting his lap with his other hand. 

You straddle his hips and lay your hands on his chest, flicking your thumb nail across his silver chain he never took off, a shy smile on your lips. 

“Hi.” 

Eddie rests his hands on your lower back, following your spine and finally feeling that the little stretchy fabric he felt earlier on your hips, v’d off into a tiny thong. He was positive he’d have a stroke before this blizzard was over. 

“I wanna kiss you like I should have at Byer’s party. ‘m not gonna stop unless you tell me to, and goddamn baby I really hope you don’t.”  

His lips find yours in the dark and fireworks light behind your eyelids. It’s soft and slow and impossibly sweet. Eddie tasted like coffee and cream and slow Sunday mornings. 

You open your mouth and his tongue greets yours, tangling together into a sleep massage filled with soft moans and rolling hips. Your fingers weave through the hair at the back of his neck and after all this time of knowing Eddie, you can’t believe how soft his hair feels. 

Like silk sheets in a fancy hotel. 

He’s swallowing your little gasps as he grows hard beneath you. Peppering kisses down your neck, across your collarbone and landing back to nip at your earlobe. He’s taking his time, carving his hands along your curves, kissing every surface he can find, growing impossibly stiff beneath your sweeping hips. 

Eddie moans when you call out his name once he has you on your back, his mouth hot against your peaked nipple, your fingers wrapped in his curls. You’re practically writhing beneath him, aching for him to keep going. 

His boxers come off and you can only feel, and judging by the way your hand can’t wrap fully around him— you knew taking him would be every bit of heaven and the best parts of hell. 

He whines with pleasure when he’s pressed into the mattress as you tease him. Kissing the tattoos on his hips, you make sure to take extra care of the warped and mottled patch of skin on his ribs. You knew, despite his protests, that they still itched and weren't as pliable as it had been before the skin was ripped from his body. 

Your hands work his shaft in tandem with your mouth, wrapping as much of him as you could manage, he’s a panting mess when he practically pleads that he can’t take anymore, he needs to be inside of you.

He leaned towards the night stand reaching for a lone condom. But you want him just the way he is. Want to feel everything he has to offer. Want to feel him stretch you open, want him to feel the way you adjust and gasp with each inch of him stuffing into you. 

When he lines up, he looks up just as you intake a sharp breath, watching as your bodies connect, and he practically cums on that sight alone. 

He’s moaning low and practically rumbling out fuck every other word. Your breath is gone, suffocated by being so full you can barely contain yourself. Eddie works you through it, and when he’s fully seated to the hilt, he leans forward and collects your lips whispering how he’s got you, how he’ll take of you, always. And he would forever if you’d let him. 

When he moves it’s slow and steady, his hips moving fluidly like the rhythm to a song. Your hands are clutching onto him, gripping his biceps, leaving moon shaped indents in his skin that only add to his pleasure. 

Eddie picks up speed when your body moves back against him, knowing that you need more, want more and he’s happy to oblige. Pressing a thumb on your clit he rubs slow, then fast. Circular, then up and down. He’s working her like a rotary phone and you come undone, whimpering his name and moaning as tears leak from the corners of your eyes. 

He follows not far behind you, and it’s a shaky, earth shattering high that has him throwing his head back holding onto your hips as if you were keeping him Earth bound. 

You both collapse into a tangled mess of sheets and sweat and discarded clothing. Eddie tries to get up but you pull him back to you, kissing his jaw and reveling in the high of euphoric bliss. 

❆ ❆ ❆

Four days the power flickered on and off as the city worked hard to restore things back to normal. It was the most snowfall the city had ever seen, but you missed it all. Hard to keep track of what day or time it was when you were constantly being fucked into oblivion by a man who absolutely adored you and worshipped your body like a sacred temple. 

You were raw, and stained with presses and laps from his lips and tongue, a deep set of teeth marked the back half of your shoulder that you were extremely privy to. 

Eddie also had his fair share of love bites and claw marks from you. Unlocking a kink you didn’t know even existed a/n: (Does it? Marked men? is that a kink? listen bitch idk but it’s hot)

Neither one of you worrying about anything, barely making time to make a meal before you were back at it again, on the table, the counter, the bathroom floor, Pete’s bed, up against Eddie’s closet— everywhere, not a single surface was left untainted. 

The questions of what comes next, what does this mean for him and for you would be answered another time. 

For now, in the blissful naivety of the shelter from the blizzard in his bedroom of apartment 4D —that would later smell of coffee, and cigarettes and a record set of orgasms: you were tickled pink to be snowed in with him.

likes, comments, reblogs are loved and adored ** if you want to see more dm’s are always open and welcome, thanks for having me back here after being gone from this space for a few months 🖤💋

All time taglist that i’m dogshit at remembering: @dashingdeb16 @bastardstevie @what-the-jams @lexr86 @pretendthisnameisclever

@littlebibibliophile

[cece693]

PLEASE MORE ASGARDIAN M!READER!!!

May I suggest a fic where the reader wants to bond closely to Wanda and Natasha but, is afraid because their only concept of sister relationships was Hela (reader is a little scared of Hela 😔 due to her destructive nature). Can I also add that the reader has slightly long hair (shoulder length) to braid!

Thank you for your talent and dedication!

He's Cute (Pt. 1.5)

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: wanda and natasha are the best, sibling duo, getting ready for the date, hints of WandaNat/ScarletWidow, bucky being adorably smitten, yes 1.5 cause pt. 2 is the actual date :)

You fiddled nervously with the ends of your hair, pacing the length of your borrowed bedroom in the Avengers Compound for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was the day: your very first official Earth date. With none other than Bucky Barnes. Just the thought of it sent a rush of excitement (and panic) through your veins.

The problem? You had no clue how to prepare for a Midgardian date. A tunic and breeches might scream ‘medieval faire,’ and your more formal Asgardian garb would be even more intimidating. What if Bucky took one look at you and decided you were too over-the-top or—in the worst scenario—ran for the hills? Then there was your hair. Should you leave it loose? Tie it back? Attempt some elaborate braid?

What if I make a total fool of myself? you thought, tugging on your hair with a frustrated groan. You considered consulting Thor—briefly—until your imagination conjured an image of him bellowing, “Wear your finest Asgardian leathers!” and slapping you on the back so hard you’d stumble. Not exactly helpful.

You also thought about Tony or Steve, but quickly dismissed those options. Tony might tease you relentlessly, and while Steve was sweet, he was probably as clueless as you when it came to modern dating intricacies.

That left two people you admired from a (sometimes intimidated) distance: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. You’d seen how confident and stylish they both were—able to slip into a gown or tactical gear with equal flair. If anyone can help me blend Asgardian flair with Midgard style, you reasoned, it’s them.

Trouble was, the concept of “sisterly” assistance made your stomach twist. Your only sisterly figure had been Hela—and she was the embodiment of destructive chaos. Whenever you thought of “sisterly bonds,” images of shadowy blades and a mocking sneer intruded on your mind. Still, you had no one else to turn to, and time was running out.

It didn’t take long to find them. Wanda lounged on a couch, sipping tea and reading a worn paperback. Natasha reclined in an armchair nearby, scrolling through her phone. They exuded a relaxed warmth that made your nerves surge all over again—how did you even start this conversation?

Wanda glanced up first, her warm eyes creasing in a small smile. “Oh! (Y/N), did you need something?”

Natasha flicked her gaze over to you, phone still in hand. “You look like you’re either about to faint or confess a murder. Everything okay?”

Embarrassed, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I—I’m sorry to interrupt. I know you’re both probably busy, but I…I have a date. With Bucky,” you added softly, feeling your cheeks heat at the admission. “And I have no idea what to wear or how to do my hair, or—anything, really.”

Wanda’s eyebrows rose, and a slow grin spread across her face. “A date with Bucky? That’s adorable.”

Natasha set aside her phone, crossing her arms. “So you want a bit of a makeover?”

You cleared your throat, nerves clashing with relief. “Yes. Please. I don’t know how Earth dates usually go. I’m used to, well…armor and father-gifts, and illusions if I want to ‘dress up.’ But that’s not exactly the vibe here.”

Both women chuckled at that. Natasha stood and motioned for Wanda to follow. “Come on, let’s get you set up. And don’t worry—you’re not bothering us. We’d love to help you not show up to your date in full Asgardian regalia.”

Natasha led you to what appeared to be a converted storage room. Racks of clothing lined the walls, and a couple of tall dressers stood at one end. You caught glimpses of everything from formal evening wear to casual street clothes—no doubt a stockpile from Tony’s various shopping sprees.

“Okay,” Natasha declared, scanning the racks. “We need something comfortable but sharp. You want to catch Bucky’s eye without screaming I’m a prince from another realm.”

Wanda’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Though, honestly, you could show up in a paper bag and he’d probably swoon.”

You felt your cheeks flame. “I—um, I just don’t want to look foolish.”

Natasha brushed aside a row of jackets. “We won’t let that happen. Trust us. Let’s see…” She paused, sizing you up. “You’ve got a good build—broad shoulders, trim waist. We should highlight that. Maybe a well-fitted shirt.”

Wanda’s gaze flicked between you and Natasha. “Oooh, yes. And if we can find a color that brings out his eyes…” She rummaged through a section of button-downs.

That left you standing there, feeling slightly awkward, as they pulled items from hangers and debated the merits of each. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety creeping in. This is far less terrifying than dealing with Hela, right? you told yourself. And yet, your heart hammered in your chest.

Eventually, Wanda triumphantly held up a simple, fitted gray button-down. “This might do,” she said, pressing it to your torso. “It’s not flashy, but it’ll look nice with your coloring.”

Natasha grabbed a pair of dark jeans from the next rack. “Try these on. We’ll see if they fit. If they’re too baggy, we’ve got more.”

Clutching the clothes, you ducked behind a folding screen in the corner. The chatter on the other side continued quietly:

“You think Bucky’s actually ready for a date?” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I’m sure he’s ready,” Natasha replied in the same hushed tone. “Steve says he's been looking at the clock constantly and somehow managed to trip over his own feet. He's more than ready."

Their amused banter made you smile—clearly, Bucky was as worked up about this as you were. That was comforting.

You slid into the jeans and button-down, surprised at how well everything fit. They weren’t Asgardian leathers, but the fabric was soft and flexible, hugging you just right. You stepped out self-consciously. “Well? How do I look?”

Wanda gasped softly, covering her mouth. “(Y/N), you look amazing!”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, arms folded. “Yeah, that’ll do. Sleeves up—roll them a bit. Show off those forearms. Trust me.”

Blushing, you obeyed, feeling a little self-conscious and a little flattered. “You really think Bucky will like it?”

“Absolutely,” Wanda replied, beaming. “He’d have to be blind not to notice how good you look.”

Natasha pretended to examine your outfit with a critical eye, but you noticed a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. Then her gaze flicked to Wanda, and they shared a subtle look—one that made your cheeks flush a second time. You weren’t sure, but it almost seemed like there was a soft warmth passing between the two women, a private understanding that neither was voicing.

Then came the matter of your hair. It fell around your shoulders, a bit unruly from the stress of pacing your room all day. You lifted a lock, hesitating. “Normally, if this were a formal Asgardian function, I’d wear a crown braid or decorative metal clasps that sparkle with runes. But that’s probably too fancy, right?”

Wanda stepped closer, gently running her fingers through your hair in a way that felt surprisingly soothing. “Yes. Maybe we could do a simple side-braid, just enough to keep it out of your face. Or tuck it behind your ears. You have a nice jawline, so let’s show it.”

Natasha approached with a comb and some small hair ties, exchanging that same subtle smile with Wanda as they both set to work. You couldn’t help but notice the soft brush of Wanda’s hand, the way Natasha’s posture angled toward her whenever they spoke. Something about their easy familiarity and gentleness felt domestic, like they’d done this a hundred times…maybe even for each other.

“Relax,” Natasha murmured, positioning you to face a mirror. “We won’t do anything too elaborate. Just enough to keep Bucky’s eyes on you, not on how complicated your hairstyle is.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “Though he’ll definitely be looking either way.”

They worked in tandem, brushing, smoothing, and expertly twisting a small section of hair into a neat side-braid. With each gentle tug, your tension melted. It felt so normal, to be fussed over by these two formidable Avengers, whose reputations alone could strike fear into entire enemy organizations. Yet here they were, braiding your hair and chatting like older sisters might.

Every so often, you caught a flicker of something more than platonic in their glances—maybe the way Wanda’s hand lingered on Natasha’s wrist when passing a hair clip, or the private smiles they exchanged. It was fleeting, but definitely there. You wondered if you were witnessing the beginnings of something deeper between them—or perhaps it had been there all along, carefully kept behind the scenes.

Finally, Wanda tucked the last strand into place, and Natasha stepped back, admiring their work. “Alright, pretty boy. Check it out.”

You moved to the mirror, heart fluttering in anticipation. The reflection that stared back looked…well, incredible. The blazer fit perfectly, highlighting your form without overpowering your frame. The rolled sleeves revealed just enough forearm to be intriguing, and the subtle side-braid left most of your hair loose but framed your face nicely.

Your mouth fell open. “I—I look…”

“Really, really handsome,” Wanda finished, placing a gentle hand on your back.

Natasha’s smile softened. “You do. And trust me, Bucky will probably forget how to speak for a minute when he sees you.”

A mixture of pride and embarrassment bloomed in your chest. “Thank you. Honestly, I feel so confident. I’ve never had that before.”

Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Of course. You’re about to go on a date, not face a war. It should be fun.”

Natasha’s gaze turned momentarily serious. “But if he does anything to make you uncomfortable—pressures you, upsets you—” She paused, letting the threat linger, “—I will personally have words with him.”

“And by ‘words,’ she means possibly an entire display of violence,” Wanda teased, but her eyes held a protective glint.

You laughed nervously, appreciating the concern. “I—I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Bucky’s so gentle. But...thank you, just the same.”

Natasha nodded firmly. “We look out for our own. And that includes you.”

Your heart swelled at the sentiment—so this was what a supportive sisterly bond could be, untainted by destruction and usurpation. After some final adjustments (Natasha insisted on adjusting your collar just so, and Wanda fussed with a stray hair you couldn’t see), the two women gave you a double thumbs-up.

“Go knock him dead—figuratively,” Wanda teased. “This is Earth, after all.” Halfway to the front entrance, you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Wanda and Natasha standing side by side, exchanging soft smiles. Wanda murmured something, and Natasha’s cheeks tinted the faintest pink before she turned away.

Maybe I’m not the only one with a new romance on the horizon, you mused, feeling a rush of fondness for both of them.

When you finally reached the main entrance, there was Bucky—hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders tense. The moment his eyes landed on you, all that tension melted. A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face, and you swore you saw a slight flush creep up his neck.

“Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look amazing.”

Your cheeks warmed, but this time it was with genuine confidence. “Thanks. Wanda and Nat helped.”

He nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. “Remind me to, uh…thank them later.”

You chuckled softly. “I’ll let them know.”

The two of you exchanged a few shy glances, the air charged with a thrilling sense of possibility. Bucky offered his arm in that old-fashioned way you found so endearing, and you slipped yours through it, feeling a jolt of warmth as your elbow linked with his. “You ready?” he asked, voice tinged with nervous excitement.

You smiled. “I am.”

[razorblade180]

Take it back

Jaune:*polishing sword*

Blake:Hey there, old timer.

Jaune:Heh, hello there. Is it time for us to vote on dinner?

Blake:Almost. I’m stopping by now since I’d probably have a hard time talking to you alone later.

Jaune:What’s up? Need help surprising Yang with something?

Blake:Nope. Remember back at Beacon when our two teams had to make schedules together because Weiss demanded joint training and team building?

Jaune:I remember getting yelled out for spilling the whiteout.

Blake:Yeah that was a rough day for you. Anyways, I remember having to be in charge of the schedule since some people would obsess over it while others forgot to bring or update it. I didn’t mind. Memorizing dates is easy for me. *pulls out box* Happy birthday.

Jaune:…Huh, imagine that. Thank you.

Blake:Don’t tell you forgot?

Jaune:No, I just…it hasn’t mattered for a long time. I didn’t bring it up today because honestly, it bothers me a little. Keeping track in the Ever After was hard; after a while it felt lonely. Is it weird I don’t like my birthday much?

Blake:No. I don’t care for mine either. I spent of couple of them protesting or hiding before.

Jaune:That seriously sucks.

Blake:It’s life. I let the others celebrate it cause it makes them happy. That’s enough for me, but I’ll keep yours quiet. Figure you had a reason.

Jaune:Thanks. This means a lot actually.

Blake:You haven’t even opened it yet. Anyways, I gotta go. Ruby has paid me off to help support her campaign for the seafood restaurant for their dessert. *walks away*

Jaune:Didn’t know you take bribes.

Blake:It’s a seafood restaurant. *closes door*

The boy let out a chuckle. He put his blade down and unwrapped the blue birthday paper to reveal the densest planner he’s ever seen. The cover revealed it could plan the next three years out. Who would’ve thought Blake could be so cheeky? Jaune opened it to find his birthday but instead found another surprise. The dates were crossed out.

He flipped the page. Again, all crossed out. Page after page showed each individual day crossed out well into the future. Jaune couldn’t make sense of it at first. He took another look at the gift box and found an additional items. Multiple bottles of whiteout alongside a written note.

“You’ve done your fair share of planning ahead. Now reclaim your time day by day. The Rusted Knight has had its time; it’s your turn now. May it be spontaneous and a splendid do over, dear friend.”

Jaune was absolutely speechless. All he could do was grab the whiteout and clear away today’s date, leaving it full of endless possibilities. He closed it slowly as he thought of all the ways he could really reclaim lost time. Sharpening his blade was not it. He got up and left to join his friends in living area where they were debating.

Nora:Ah! Perfect timing. Jaune, please tell these psychopaths why we should have breakfast for dinner tonig-

Jaune:I want steak.

Ruby and Nora:What!?

Yang and Weiss:*hi five*

Nora:But why steal of all things!?

Ruby:It’s boring!

Jaune:Maybe, but we’d get free desserts today if it’s a special occasion.

Blake:*smiles*

Ren:Special occasion?

Jaune:Yeah. *smiles* Today’s my birthday.

NRYRW:WHAT!?

Oscar:Oh, Happy Birthday.

[rubylace]

PART 1. FIRST SUMMERS

m.list

pairing: musician!jay x reader (f) updated hybe idols . yeonjun txt, yunjin lsrfm, nagyung fromis9

genre: coming-of-age, new adult, personal growth, sexual tension, fams dynamic, lovehate

wordcount: 37k (the longest I've ever made istg)

warning: harsh words

a/n: I'm using his real identity, to stay realistic bc it also has to do with his favorite lover - guitar. so don't put it to heart the bad side fyi I dare not be jealous ok love ya 𖹭

A car nearly hit you as you practically floated across the street in a daze after leaving the attorney's office. All these years, you’d tried so hard not to think about him. Now, he was all you could think about. Flashes of him invaded your mind. His dark hair, his laughter, the strum of his guitar, the deep sadness and disappointment in his gorgeous eyes the last time you saw him 9 years ago.

You was never supposed to face him again, let alone own a house with him. Living with Jay was not an option, even if just for the summer. It was probably more like there wasn’t a chance in hell that Jay was going to agree to share a house with you. Whether you liked it or not, though, the beach house in Newport was common property now. Not yours. Not his. Fifty-fifty.

“What the hell was Ameryn thinking?” You’d always known she cared deeply about him, but there was no way you could have predicted the extent of her generosity. He wasn’t even related to you, but she’d always thought of him as her grandson. You picked up your phone and scrolled down to Nagyung’s name. When she picked up, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Where are you?” you asked.

“On the west side. Why?”

“Can you meet up? I really need to talk to someone.”

“Are you okay?”

Your mind went blank before slowly filling again with fragmented thoughts of Jay. Your chest tightened. He hated you. You’d avoided him for so long, but you was really going to have to face him now. Nagyung’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine, where are you again?”

“Meet me at the falafel place. We’ll have an early dinner and talk about whatever is going on.”

“Okay. See you in ten.”

Nagyung was a fairly new friend, so she knew little about your childhood or teen years. You taught together at a local charter school in Providence. You had taken today off to meet with your grandmother’s attorney, the smell of cumin and dried mint saturated the air inside of the fast food Nagyung waved from a corner booth, a piled-high styrofoam container of tahini covered chicken kabobs and rice already planted in front of her.

“You’re not gonna get anything to eat?” she asked with her mouth full, a dollop of yogurt sauce coated the side of her mouth.

“No. I’m not hungry. Maybe I’ll take something to go on the way out. I just needed to talk.”

“What is going on?” your throat felt parched.

“Actually, I need something to drink first. Hang on.” The room felt like it was swaying as you made your way to the refrigerator by the counter and returning from purchasing a bottle of water, you sat down and let out a deep breath. “I got some pretty crazy news today at the lawyer's office.”

“Okay…”

“So, obviously you know I went there because my grandmother passed away a month ago.”

“Yes.”

“I was just meeting with the attorney to go over her estate turns out she left me all of her jewelry and half of her summer house on Aquidneck Island.”

“What? The beautiful house in that picture on your desk?”

“Yeah. That’s the one. We’d always go there a lot in the summer when I was younger, but in recent years, she’d rented it out. The property had been in her family for generations. It’s older, but it’s beautiful and overlooks the water.”

“Y/n, that’s amazing. Why do you seem so upset?”

“Well…she left the other half to a guy named Jay Park.”

“Who is that?”

“He was just a boy I grew up with. My Ameryn took care of him while his parents worked. Jay’s house was on one side, mine was on the other, and Ameryn’s was in the middle.”

“So, he was kind of like a brother to you?”

“We were close for many years.”

“From the look on your face, I get the feeling that something changed?”

“You’d be right.”

“What happened?”

There was no way you could handle rehashing it all. Today had already been too much for you to absorb. You would give her a shorter version.

“Basically, I found out he was keeping something from me. And I freaked out. I’d rather not get into it. But let’s just say I was fifteen at the time and having a really hard time handling my hormones and my issues with my mother. I made a rash decision to move away and live with my dad.”

Swallowing the pain, you said, “I left everything behind in Providence and moved to New Hampshire.”

Thankfully, Nagyung didn’t pry as to what the secret was. That wasn’t the issue you needed to talk about today. It was more important for her to help you figure out your next step than for you to be opening old wounds.

“So, you basically ran away from it all rather than dealing with it.”

“Yeah. Ran away from my problems…and from Jay.”

“You haven’t spoken to him since?”

“After I left, there were several months where there was no contact. I felt so guilty about the way I handled things. I did eventually try to see him and apologize once I came to my senses, but by then it was too late. He didn’t want to see me or talk to me..”

“..I can’t say I blamed him. He’d moved on, got in with a different crowd and then eventually moved to New York soon after graduating high school. We just completely lost touch, but he stayed in contact with Ameryn apparently. She was like a second mom to him.”

“Do you know what’s become of him?”

“I haven’t looked him up. I’ve always been too scared to find out.”

“Well, we need to take care of that right now.” She put down her fork and dug inside her purse for her phone.

“Whoa? what are you doing?”

“You know I’m a self-proclaimed professional stalker.”

Nagyung smiled. “I’m looking him up on Insta. Jay Park, you said his name was? And he lives in NYC?”

Covering your eyes. “I can’t look. I won’t look. There are probably hundreds of guys named Jay Park out there anyway. You probably won’t find him.”

“What does he look like?”

“The last time I saw him, he was 16, so I’m sure he doesn’t look the same. He has messy hair, though.”

He was really cute. You can still see his face like it was yesterday. You could never forget it. Nagyung was reading aloud information for the different Jay popping up on Instagram. Nothing stood out until she said, “Jay Park, New York, musician at BAM Acoustic Guitar.”

Your heart dropped, and to your surprise, you could feel tears trying to fight their way through your eyelids. The emotions rising to the surface so fast were unsettling.

It was as if he’d come back from the dead. “What did you just say? Works where?”

“Just In Time Acoustic Guitar? Is that him?” The words wouldn’t come out, so you stayed silent, pondering the name it was the same one he’d always used even as a kid playing guitar on your street corner.

“That’s him,” you finally conceded.

“Oh my God, Y/n!”

Your heart started to pound faster. “What?”

“This guy is…”

“What? Tell me,” you practically yelled before downing the rest of your water.

“He’s gorgeous. Absolutely freaking gorgeous.” Covering your face, you said, “Please don’t tell me that.”

“Take a look.”

“I can’t.”

Before you could refuse again, Nagyung shoved the phone in front of your face. It shook in your hands as you took it. From what you could see in the one photo, he was beautiful just like you remembered, but at the same time, really different. Grown up.

He was wearing a gray beanie and had a fair amount of chin scruff that he was never able to grow when you knew him. In the profile pic, he was leaning into a guitar and looked like he was about to sing into a microphone. The look on his face was intense and gave you the chills. When you went to click on the other photos, it wouldn’t let you in because his profile was set to private.

Nagyung reached out for the phone. “He’s a musician?”

“I guess so,” you said, handing it back to her.

You muttered to yourself. ‘He used to write songs for me.’

“Are you going to contact him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I don’t even know what to say to him. Whatever is meant to happen will happen. I’ll end up having to talk to him eventually. I’m just not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

“How exactly is this housing arrangement going to work anyway?”

“Well, the attorney gave me a set of keys and told me that another set was sent to Jay. Both of our names will be on the deed. Ameryn also set aside some money to be used for house repairs and maintenance to the property during the off season. I’m assuming he’s been made aware of all of the same info.”

“You don’t want to sell the house, right?”

“No way. There are too many memories, and it meant so much to Ameryn. I’m going to use it this summer and then maybe eventually rent it out if he agrees to it.”

“So, you have no idea how he plans to use his half? You’re just going to show up there in a few weeks, and if he’s there, he’s there, and if he’s not, he’s not?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh, this is going to be interesting.”

*****

At 24, you was single again and starting a new life in Newport for the summer. Your teaching job in Providence afforded you summers off. Your hope was to find a temporary job for the season, but for now, you just wanted to enjoy a few weeks of relaxation.

Returning from downtown Newport with your bag of crustaceans one night, you noticed that the front door to the house was wide open.

“Did I forget to lock it? Was it the wind?” your heartbeat accelerated when you entered the kitchen to find a tall, leggy chick with short, cropped platinum blonde hair. She looked was stocking the cabinets. You cleared your throat.

“Hello?” She turned around before covering her chest.

“Oh my god. You scared me.”

Walking over to you smiling, she held out her hand. “I’m Yunjin”

With fine features, high cheekbones and that pixie cut, Yunjin could have been a model. You was the complete opposite from her physically with your long and dark hair, and curvy figure.

“I’m Y/n. Who are you?”

“I’m Jay's girlfriend.”

“Oh…I see. Where is he?”

“He just went to the market and the liquor store.”

“How long have you been here?”

“We just arrived about an hour ago.”

“How long are you staying?”

“Not sure really. We’re just gonna see where the summer takes us. Neither of us were expecting this development..you know, the house.”

“Yeah, I know.” You looked down at the French-manicured toes peeking out of her heels.

“Do you work?”

“I’m an actress, actually on Broadway. Off Broadway for now. I’m in between jobs, but I’ll probably be going back and forth to New York for auditions. What do you do?”

“I’m a middle school teacher. So, I get the summers off.”

“Oh, that’s really cool.”

“Yeah. It’s fun.”

“Where does Jay work?”

“He works from home right now. He sells software. He can work from anywhere. He also performs. You know he’s a musician, right?”

“Actually, I don’t know much about him anymore.”

“What happened between you two anyway? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“He’s never told you anything about me?”

“Just that you grew up together and that you’re Mrs. A’s granddaughter. Honestly, he never mentioned you at all until we got that letter from the attorney.”

Even that was expected, it made you sad. “That’s no surprise.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Did you guys ever date?”

“No. It was nothing like that. We were just good friends, but we drifted apart after I moved away.”

“I see. This whole thing is a little weird, right? I mean, inheriting a house like this out of nowhere?”

“Well, my grandma was very generous, and she loved Jay very much. My mom is her only child, and she loved Jay like a grandson, so—”

“Your grandma left the house to you and not your mom?”

“Mom and her had a bit of a falling out some years ago. Thankfully, they made amends before she died, but things were never really the same again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.”

Yunjin opened her arms to pull you into a casual hug. “Well, I really hope we can be friends. It will be nice to have a girl around to shop with, check out the island.”

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“I hope you’ll have dinner with us tonight?” You wasn’t ready to face him. You needed to make up a story and get out of here. “Actually, probably not tonight. I’d better be leaving.”

“That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?” a deep voice you hardly recognized interrupted you from behind.

“What’s that?” you asked, swallowing nervously and refusing to turn around to look at him.

“Leaving,” he said louder. “That’s what you’re good at.”

Your breathing was ragged, but it was when you turned around that you nearly lost it. Jay was standing in front of you, and you swear it was like the boy you’d left behind had been swallowed up by a lean mass of muscle.

He just looked so different from what you remembered years ago. The anger on his face was transparent and somehow made him even more incredibly hot. It just would have been better if it weren’t directed toward you. His skin was a beautiful shade of bronze that complemented the natural golden streaks in his dark hair.

The smooth face you remembered was now rough. A rope and barb wire tattoo wrapped around his bicep. He was wearing camouflage cargo shorts with a tight white ribbed tank that hugged his chiseled chest. An indeterminate amount of time passed as you just took him in. Even though you was too stunned to say anything, your heart was screaming.

You knew deep down your reaction wasn’t just because of your physical attraction to him. It was because despite all of the changes, one thing had stayed exactly the same. His eyes. They reflected the same hurt that you remembered from the very last time you saw him. His name finally managed to roll off your tongue. “Jay…”

“Yes.” The deep, throaty sound of his voice vibrated through you.

“I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to show up.”

“Why wouldn’t I have?” he sneered.

“Well, I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

“You’ve overestimated your significance to me. Of course, I was going to come. This is half my house.”

His words stung. “I didn’t say it wasn’t. It’s just, I hadn’t heard anything from you.”

“Interesting how that goes.”

Clearly uncomfortable with the sparring, Yunjin cleared her throat. “I was just asking Y/n if she wanted to have dinner with us tonight. Maybe you guys can catch up.”

“Apparently, she already has plans.” You turned to him.

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because you’re holding a bag that smells like dirty snatch?”

“It’s fresh seafood.”

“Doesn’t smell very fresh to me.”

“God. We haven’t seen each other in five years, and this is how you act?”

You turned to Yunjin. “Is he always this rude?” Before she could answer, he cracked, “I guess you bring it out in me.”

“You think Ameryn would be happy right now with your attitude? Something tells me she didn’t leave us this house so that we could fight with each other.”

“She left us both this house because we each meant something to her that doesn’t mean we have to mean anything to each other. Anyway, if you cared so much about what she thought maybe you shouldn’t have run away.”

“That’s a low blow.”

“The truth hurts, I guess.”

“I tried to contact you, Jay. I–”

“I’m not talking about this now, Y/n.” He said, speaking through gritted teeth. “It’s old news.”

It was unnerving to hear him to calling the name like that. Aside from the very first day you’d met, he’d always called you Patch or Patchy. Hearing your name come out of his mouth felt like a slap in the face for some reason, like he was trying to emphasize how much you’d grown apart.

Jay went from hot to cold as he shut down, heading back outside to retrieve the groceries from his car but not before slamming the door behind him. You shuddered, looking over at Yunjin whose eyeballs were moving back and forth from side to side in confusion. “Well, that was a nice start,” you joked.

“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen him act like that toward anyone to be honest. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Believe it or not, I probably deserve it.”

The only thing worse than the rude reception he’d given you was his blatantly ignoring you during dinner and for the rest of that night. That hurt more than anything he could have ever said to you. You thought the evening was horrible, lack of sleep assured that the next morning was even worse. Apparently, Jay found a way to take out his anger by taking it out on Yunjin.

Let’s just say playing guitar wasn’t the only talent he’d fully developed over time. Yunjin's moaning in the middle of the night as Jay pounded into her woke you up in the middle of the night. The walls literally shook, it was impossible to go back to sleep after that.

You tossed and turned your thoughts alternating between rehashing Jay's words to you from earlier to imagining what that scene in the other room actually looked like.

You used the opportunity to admire his stature and the flawless skin of his defined, shirtless back. Black gym pants hugged his beautifully round a**. You never realized how incredible his a** was. Your physical attraction to him really irked me under the circumstances, but that didn’t stop you from checking him out.

Squinting, you unsuccessfully tried to figure out what it was. He startled you when he suddenly turned around and met you with an incendiary stare. “Do you always ogle people when you think they can’t see you?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “How did you know I was standing here?”

“I could see your reflection in the window, genius.”

“You didn’t even flinch. I didn’t think you noticed me.”

“Clearly.”

“Are you trying to make me hate you or something? Because you’re doing a pretty damn good job.”

Jay didn’t answer your question. Instead, he just turned back around toward the window.

“Why do you do that?” you asked.

“Do what?”

“Say things to piss me off then shut down?”

He continued to speak to the window, “Would you rather I just continue to piss you off? I’m trying to get my anger in check with you, Y/n. You should be happy I know when to stop unlike some people.”

“Will you at least look at me when you’re talking to me?”

He turned around and walked toward me slowly then leaned his face in. You could feel his words on my lips when he asked, “Is this better? You’d rather me in your face like this?” you could practically taste his breath.

Your entire body felt weak from the close contact, so you backed away. “I didn’t think so,” he snarled. You walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, pretending to look for something. It annoyed you that your peaceful mornings were a thing of the past.

“You always get up this early?” you asked.

“I’m a morning person.”

“I can see that so bright and cheery,” you said, sarcastically.

“Some of us need sleep, though.”

“I slept just fine last night.”

“Oh, I know after you traumatized me. You must have passed out after all that screwing could you two have been any louder last night?”

“Well, excuse me. If I can’t f*ck in my own house where do you expect me to do it?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t do it. Just be more respectful.”

“Define respect.”

“Doing it quietly.”

“Sorry. I don’t f*ck quietly.”

As much as you hated that answer, you somehow felt that those words would be repeating in your head later tonight.

“Forget it. Clearly, you don’t know the meaning of respect.”

“Respect you? Why? Because you’re not getting laid? Why don’t you hook up with some salty dude down at the dock? Maybe then you won’t care so much about other people’s business.”

“Salty dude?”

“Yeah. You know, the guys that live on the boats the ones who sell you that nasty fish you were eating last night.”

You just shook your head and rolled your eyes, refusing to dignify that comment with a response. He surprised you when he suddenly lifted the carafe. “Want some coffee?”

“Now you’re being nice?”

“No, I just figured you’re sticking around for some reason. It must be the coffee.”

“This is my kitchen.”

He winked. “Our kitchen.” Grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, he asked, “How do you take yours?”

“Cream and sugar.”

“I’ll take care of it while you go put on a bra.”

You looked down at your b**bs which were hanging freely beneath your white t-shirt not expecting to run into him this early, you hadn’t thought to put one on. Too embarrassed to acknowledge the fact that he’d noticed, you went back to your room and got dressed when you returned he was back at the window drinking his coffee.

“Is this better?” you asked, referring to your dress. He turned around and gave you a once over.

“Define better. If better means I can’t see your tits anymore…yes, it’s better. If better, means you look better, that’s debatable.”

“What’s wrong with this?”

“It looks like you sewed it yourself.”

“Actually, it’s from one of the shops on the island. It is handmade.”

“Out of a potato sack?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe?”

He snickered. “Your coffee’s on the counter, raggedy ann.”

Your inclination was to try to come up with a comeback but then you realized that was probably what he wanted, you needed to kill him with kindness instead of showing your anger. “Thank you. That was nice of you to make it for me.”

You took a sip and immediately spit it out. “What did you put in this? It’s so strong!”

Instead of answering you, he just started to crack up. His laughter resonated through the kitchen and as much as you hated that it was at your expense, it was the first time he’d laughed. It took you back in time for a moment and served as the only real reminder that the smoking hot a**hole in front of you used to be your bestfriend.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s a bit strong. What is it?”

“It’s coffee fusion, actually.”

“What does that even mean?”

Jay sauntered over to the cabinet and took out a can and a package. “It’s my own recipe. Cuban coffee mixed with this one.” He pointed to the black packaging that had a white skull and crossbones on it.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s coffee. I order it online. Nothing else is caffeinated enough for me.”

“That’s why you wanted to serve it to me, wasn’t it? You knew I’d hate this concoction.”

He simply let out that raspy laugh of his again, except this time, he was laughing way harder than before. Yunjin entered the kitchen, wearing a long black t-shirt that must have been the one he wasn’t wearing.

“What’s so funny?” Jay's mischievous eyes peeked from behind his mug.

He snickered. “We were just having coffee.”

Yunjin shook her head. “You didn’t drink his mud, did you? I don’t know how he likes that stuff.” You reminded yourself of your plan to kill him with kindness. Taking another sip of the coffee, you nodded.

“Actually, at first taste, it was pretty strong, but I actually think I really like it.” It was disgusting.

“You’d better be careful. That sh*t is potent. Jay is immune to it, but the one and only time I drank it, it kept me up for like four days.”

Jay laughing. “Apparently, we kept Y/n up last night.”

Yunjin turned to you. “Oh, sh*t. I’m sorry.”

Shrugging, you said, “It’s no big deal. I got used to it after a while.”

“Was that when you decided you wished you could join in?” he cracked.

You wasn't going to respond to that. The more you looked over at his smug expression, the more determined yoi became to finish the entire damn mug of coffee to spite him. “I’m really surprised at how much I’m actually liking this,” lied.

Yunjin chose to ignore Jay's earlier comment. “What do you say after breakfast we head to town, Y/n? I’d love it if you could show me around the island.”

“Alright. That would be nice.”

She walked over to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. “You want to come with us, babe?”

Jay said before finishing off the last of his coffee and putting the cup in the sink. “No. I have sh*t to do,”

“Okay. Just the girls then.”

The coffee had turned you into a spaz. As Yunjin and you walked around Newport that morning, she kept having to tell you to slow down. Apparently, in her heels, she couldn’t keep up with you. At one point later in the afternoon, you stopped to rest your legs. Yunjin and you sat on a wooden bench overlooking the dozens of docked sailboats as the sun shined over the water.

“So, how did you and Jay meet?” you asked.

“I was in the audience at this club called Showbox in Seattle, Jay was performing there that night. He was eyeing me the whole time he was singing and after the show, he came to find me. When he said he was thinking of me while he was singing the last song, I nearly died. We’ve been inseparable since.”

Your face felt hot. You wasn’t willing to admit to yourself that it was jealousy. The thought of them connecting so intimately while he was in the middle of performing made you uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe because it reminded you of the songs he used to write for you. You’d think nothing would bother you after having to endure their f*cking last night.

“What kind of music does he play now?”

“Well, he does some covers of artists like Drake, but he also writes a lot of original stuff. He mostly plays clubs, but his manager has been trying to get him a music deal. Of course, the girls all go crazy over him. That part has taken some getting used to for me.”

“I’m sure it’s hard.”

“Yeah. Big time.” She tilted her head. “What about you? No boyfriend?”

“I just got out of a relationship.” You confide in her as if she were just a normal friend to you.

On the way home, you passed Yeonjun’s on the Beach, a restaurant that was known for live music at night and really good food. A sign out front read, Temporary Summer Help Wanted. Since there was a university just over the bridge, a lot of the students went home in the summer, leaving some of the local restaurants in need of temporary wait staff. You stopped short in front of the entrance.

“Do you mind if I go in and inquire about this?”

“Sure. I’d actually like to check it out, too.”

Both Yunjin and you had waitressing experience so you sat down and filled out applications, by the time you walked out of there, we each had a job. The manager basically told you could work any night you wanted. The extra money and flexibility was impossible to pass up, Yunjin was particularly happy that he’d told her it was no problem if she had to suddenly cancel a shift in the event she got called back to Manhattan for an audition. You were each going to start tomorrow.

That night, Yunjin thought you should celebrate new jobs over dinner and drinks on the upper deck back at the house. It hadn’t dawned on you how peaceful being away from Jay all day had been. When you walked in the door, butterflies started to swarm in your stomach again as soon as you smelled his cologne.

Jay was standing in the kitchen drinking a beer when Yunjin ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jay was tall over six feet but Serim wasn’t that much shorter than him. Next to both of them, you was basically a midget. He cleaned up nice, Jay had changed out of his camouflage shorts from earlier into dark jeans and a gray shirt with black stripes that hugged his chest. He’d done something to his hair that you couldn’t pinpoint. She ran her fingers through his hair then kissed him.

“I missed you. Guess what? We both got jobs at this restaurant on the beach.”

“Did you tell them you could get called back to New York anytime?”

“The guy said it didn’t matter. He said I could basically just work whenever I want.”

“Really. That sounds a bit shady to me. But whatever. You sure he doesn’t just want in your pants, Serim?”

“He said the same thing to me,” you interrupted.

“Well, then it can’t be that.”

It took you a bit to realize that he’d just insulted you. Yunjin intercepted before you could muster up a comeback.

“It’s mild out. How about we all have dinner on the upstairs deck tonight. We could barbecue that steak I have marinating in the fridge.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her you don’t like red meat, so you just kept quiet. He would probably think you was looking for an excuse not to have dinner with them. Kill him with kindness. “I’m not that great of a cook, but I can make a big salad.”

Jay smacked the counter. “Great. I’ll start the grill while Y/n tosses her big salad.” He started to walk outside when you yelled after him.

“You know what Ameryn would say to you right now? She’d tell you to go wash your dirty mouth out with soap.”

He turned around and lifted his brow. “Soap wouldn’t cut it.”

After chopping up lettuce, carrots, red onion, tomatoes and cucumbers, you dressed the salad with homemade honey mustard vinaigrette. You carried it upstairs where Jay and her were already sitting down at the table. She had poured three glasses of merlot, and Jay was sipping one as he looked over at the waves, which were rough tonight.

Once you started eating, Jay wouldn’t look at you or make conversation. You filled your plate with salad and bread, and it took a while before anyone noticed that you wasn’t eating anything else. Yunjin’s mouth was full when she said, “You didn’t even touch the steak.”

“I don’t really like to eat meat.”

Jay chuckled. “Is that why you can’t find a man?”

You dropped your fork. “You’re a prick seriously I don’t recognize you anymore, how were we ever best friends?”

“I used to ask myself that all the time before I stopped giving a sh*t.”

You got up from the table and went downstairs. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Yunjin in and out slowly to calm yourself down, she came up quietly behind you.

“I really don’t get what’s going on between you two or why he refuses to talk about it.”

“Are you sure you guys never dated?”

“I told you, Yunjin. It wasn’t anything like that.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“I think he should be the one to explain it to you. Honestly, I don’t know. Anything that happened before that is irrelevant now. He’s pissed because of how I handled something or just running away, that's how i survive. Let’s just go back upstairs and try to have a nice dinner.”

Back on the upper deck, Jay was stone-faced, pouring more wine into his glass. A part of you wanted to slap him across the face, but another part felt guilty that you had caused so much anger in him. He said he didn’t care, but you refused to believe he would be acting up like this if he didn’t.

You touched his arm. “Will you just talk to me?”

He whipped his arm away. “I’m over it. I’m not talking about anything.”

“Will you do it for Ameryn?”

His head flipped up, and his eyes darkened. “Stop f*cking bringing her into this. Your grandma was a wonderful woman. She was the mother I never had. She never turned her back on me like pretty much everyone else in my life. This house is a representation of your mom, which is why I’m here.”

“I’m not here because of you. You want me to talk, but what you don’t seem to understand is that I don’t have anything to say about anything that happened almost a decade ago. I’ve erased it all. It’s too late, Y/n. I don’t care if you and Yunjin become friends, alright? But don’t bother trying to get through to me because we’re not gonna be friends,”

“..you put me in a sh*t mood, and I don’t want to spend this whole summer in a sh*t mood. We’re roommates. Nothing more. Stop pretending there is something more to it. Stop pretending to like the goddamn coffee. Stop pretending everything is just great. Cut the sh*t and see things for what they are. We don’t mean anything to each other.”

He got up and took his plate. “I’m done, Yunjin. I’ll see you in the room.”

Yunjin and you sat in silence, listening to nothing but the sound of the waves crashing beneath you. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“Please. Don’t, okay? He’s right. Sometimes, you can’t fix things.” Despite the complacent words that had come out of your mouth, a tear fell down your cheek.

taglist: @rikizm @sumzysworld @xylatox @morganaawriterr

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[emma23]

Ohhgg Steven Grant getting baby fever... Reading that little drabble, I can only imagine it getting worse. He sees little clothes, children at a park, even nursery builds in an IKEA catalog and gives you those puppy dog eyes. He isn't pressuring you intentionally but God if he isn't the king of getting what he wants

Marc feels like he would be in the "we are not ready for a baby absolutely not" category. There are too many uncertain factors, so much can go wrong and he doesn't want his love or their child to get put in harms way because of his moon knighting so to speak

Jake could probably be convinced, but still would see the dangers and still tell you that it's something that they should really be on the same page and be extremely prepared for (don't get it wrong he would be ecstatic to be a papa)

Steven.... Baby fever is contagious.. he wants that taste of domestic bliss and all the hardships that come with it. I don't even want children, but I think Steven could convince me with little effort,,

Omg love the idea !!! 💕

Steven/ Marc/ Jake x reader

You weren’t expecting it when it started.

It was subtle at first—Steven’s eyes lingering a little longer than usual when you passed a baby stroller on the street, his lips parting in quiet awe when a toddler giggled at him in the grocery store. You noticed the way he hesitated in the baby aisle at Target, fingers brushing over the tiny socks like they were made of gold, and how he always seemed to pause when flipping through a magazine that happened to have an article about parenting.

At first, you thought it was nothing.

But then, you caught him staring at an IKEA catalog, completely ignoring the ‘practical storage solutions’ section he usually obsessed over. His focus? A nursery setup, all soft blues and yellows, tiny bookshelves filled with plush animals, and a crib that looked like it had been handcrafted by angels.

“Oh, no,” you muttered under your breath.

Steven Grant had baby fever.

And Steven Grant was very, very good at getting what he wanted.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before. The idea of a little one running around, a mix of you and them, was… sweet. But this was not something you could decide on impulse.

And Marc? Marc was a hard no.

"We are absolutely not ready for a baby," he told you one night, arms crossed over his chest like a barrier between him and the conversation. "We have too much going on. Too many risks. Too much shit we still need to work through."

His voice was firm, but there was something in his eyes—fear. Not of being a father, necessarily, but of bringing a child into his world, a world that was dangerous, unpredictable.

Jake? Well.

"¿Un bebé, huh?" He tilted his head, assessing you with that sharp, knowing look. "I mean… It’s a big thing, mi vida. We’d have to be sure. Really sure. But…" A slow smirk spread across his face. "I'd be lying if I said I didn’t like the idea of a little one calling me ‘papá’ someday."

That left you in the middle of a tug-of-war you weren’t prepared for.

On one side, Steven and his dangerously persuasive pout.

On the other, Marc’s logic and fear.

And in between? Jake, who was probably enjoying this chaos a little too much.

It all came to a head one Saturday afternoon when you and Steven went to the park.

It was meant to be a simple outing—fresh air, a walk, maybe some ice cream. But then, Steven saw them.

The kids.

Toddlers chasing after bubbles, little ones waddling unsteadily across the grass, tiny hands reaching for their parents’ fingers. A dad lifted his giggling daughter into the air, spinning her around before settling her onto his shoulders.

Steven didn’t say anything.

He just looked.

And when you turned to him, his eyes were soft, filled with something deep and yearning.

"Love," he murmured, barely audible. "Can you imagine it? A little one. Someone to love, to protect… to teach about ancient Egypt and proper museum cataloging, of course."

You snorted, nudging him. "Because that's exactly what kids want to learn about."

"They should," he huffed playfully, but then, more seriously, "I just… I think about it a lot, yeah? I know it’s not simple, but I want that with you. I do."

You exhaled slowly, heart squeezing at the way he looked at you—like you were the whole damn universe.

"Steven…"

And then—

"Absolutely not."

Marc’s voice. Sharp. Unyielding. He was at the front now, pulling Steven back like a parent snatching a kid away from the edge of a cliff.

Steven groaned, rolling his eyes. "Marc—"

"No."

"Marc, c'mon, mate, it’s not like I’m asking for one right this second—"

"You're looking at car seats like you're about to shove one in our shopping cart."

Steven huffed. "That's exaggerating."

"It's not. Y/N, back me up here." Marc turned to you, arms crossed.

You hesitated. "Well… I mean…"

Steven’s eyes snapped to you, hopeful.

Marc’s narrowed.

You sighed. "Marc, I get it. I do. But…" You glanced at Steven, the sheer want in his expression making your stomach flip. "It’s not crazy to think about, is it?"

Marc groaned, rubbing his face. "Christ."

"See?" Steven beamed. "Not crazy."

"Not crazy," Marc muttered. "Just—fuck, okay, hypothetically—"

Steven’s eyes lit up.

"—if we ever did this, we’d need to be prepared. We’d need to think about safety. Logistics. The reality of it."

"Of course," Steven agreed immediately.

"And—"

"Ah, mierda, just give in already."

Jake.

"Jake." Marc’s voice was warning.

Jake just laughed, low and easy. "C’mon, hermano. You know you’re picturing it now."

"I’m not," Marc snapped, then scowled. "Okay, maybe a little."

Jake smirked.

Steven grinned.

Marc sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Fuck."

That night, you and Steven curled up together on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, his arms snug around you.

"You really want this, don’t you?" you murmured, fingers threading through his curls.

Steven pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "More than anything, love."

You swallowed hard, leaning into him. Maybe… maybe this was something you could want.

Much later, when things turned heated—when Steven had you pressed against the mattress, murmuring sweet, desperate things against your skin—he whispered, "Y'know, practice makes perfect."

You flicked his forehead.

"Ow!"

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, but you love me."

You rolled your eyes, laughing breathlessly. "God help me, I do."

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 9: The One Where You Choose Your Own Brazilian Adventure

My planned post – the “In Dedication of JVN” one where I fangirl over Jonathan Van Ness and what a fun and interesting piece of the Lukola puzzle he is – was derailed today because I was once again asked about Brazil. Well, more specifically, I was asked about whether I thought we were ever going to get those steamy, hopefully X-rated pictures, from Brazil. There’s pictures?!

In truth, I thought we’d collectively squeezed that grapefruit dry and left the rind somewhere between Italy and the Glamour Awards.

Alas, here I am writing about Brazil.

It’s funny because I’ve never thought much about Brazil. I know, I know! How could I possibly type those words without my nose growing six inches in front of my face? Well, it’s because it was always Australia that intrigued me. More on that later…

So why exactly do we believe there are pictures from Brazil? And, why do we think they are going to prove some kind of hot affair between Luke and Nicola? This theory is likely fueled by rumor; rumor born from how Luke and Nicola behaved towards each other while they were in Brazil.

I thought it would be fun to play a little game of “Choose Your Own Adventure” to determine if we’re ever going to see these alleged pictures. And, yes, I will be a very sarcastic bitch when doing this.

Before I start, though, I want to give a quick shout out to my dear friend, whom I shall call The-One-Who-Drops-Random-Pics-Into-Our-Group-Chat-and-Lets-Us-Sweat-Over-Them-for-Atleast-Three-Minutes-Before-Finally-Explaining-Them. She was a wealth of information about Brazil and even had a nice mother-daughter chat with me about the significance of a clean-shaven face (pardon me for never having dated a bearded man, which is odd because I find facial hair quite attractive).

Now, gather ‘round and I shall give you a little prologue to our adventure!

I’m sure most of you already know all about Brazil. In fact, many of you are probably self-described experts at this point. But, for those who are new here, let me go ahead and light the candles and set the ambiance for you. 

On May 19, Luke and Nicola were shuttled off to do their beach photoshoot in Brazil. You know, the one where Nicola was walking the dogs; Luke was strumming the guitar; Nicola was being all girlfriend-like fixing Luke’s jacket; Luke was gazing up at Nicola at the pub while she was touching his neck; and then there was that moment when we all thought they might kiss. Yeah, all that plus Luke’s scruffy face from the week prior suddenly appeared clean-shaven. Apparently, you can never be too “Casual” when you’re headed down south (pun intended – as was that Chappell Roan reference). And, about now is where I’ll “insert disclaimer that this is speculation only.”

The following day, we had the actual premiere. I’m not sure what those two were up to before the premiere but both were un-fucking-hinged by the time they made it to the red carpet. We had angel-face Nicola looking up at Luke like he had created the universe and Luke answering Nicola’s Little Red Riding Hood vibe with one sexy ass Big Bad Wolf persona. I mean, the bits and bobs that came out of Luke’s mouth that day! “There’s a carriage downstairs.” “I mean, in this heat, all I’m thinking about is when we didn’t have to wear clothes ‘cos that would be quite nice right now.” “I mean the show is proof that it is [okay to kiss your friends].” With Nicola whispering back, “This is true.” Then there was Luke taking that mic without taking his eyes off Nicola. We had Luke helping Nicola put on her bracelets because – God forbid! – she let go of him for 30 seconds to do it her fucking self. And, let’s not forget about the two of them holding on to each other behind that woman’s back (I’m sorry, I don’t recall her name and I’m too lazy to look it up – mainly, because I’m certain most of you don’t really care about that other woman).

We were also given snippets of Luke and Nicola at the premiere afterparty, looking like two people who, at a minimum, enjoyed each other’s company. They greeted fans outside the venue and, as they walked away together, Nicola seemingly put her hand on Luke’s lower back as if to guide him in the right direction (go ahead – let your imagination run wild – it’s a great opening for a FanFic).

Then, throw in the beach walk with the giant security guard; the interview where Nicola was wearing the fluffy pink skirt and the two of them talked about Chappell Roan’s “Kaleidoscope” (seriously, those two were listening to that song together?); Nicola couldn’t stop giggling about the “meat” of the Carriage Scene; and Luke appeared perhaps a smidge too interested in Nicola’s answer about what she looks for in a man (which fit perfectly into Luke’s “Like, how nice is it when someone notices, like, your kindness or your sense of humor?”). And, we can’t ignore them seemingly sharing a tea cup and Luke reaching for Nicola’s spoon after she’d sampled a dish. Don’t even get me started on over-analyzing Luke’s “manspread” that day.

Let’s also not forget about the rumor portion of this Brazilian escapade – because that is what fuels the sexy hot pictures theory and the central plot of our storied adventure.

Rumor has it Luke and Nicola spent a lot of time with each other in Brazil.

By themselves.

In one or the other’s room.

On the beach.

By the pool.

There were also rumors of them making out in the hotel hallway.

The only evidence we have of any “alone time” are some pictures that were dumped on X of them dining together alone, without any other members of their team.

Now that the backdrop has been set, let’s go on my little adventure.

During the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, I was bored out of my mind. I grew up in the countryside. No neighbors. No sidewalks. No cable! Just fields, wooded areas, and my two sisters, both of whom had no interest in entertaining me that summer. My mother suggested I read. After boredom had dug itself so far into my being that I was left with no choice but to read, I finally ventured over to the bookshelf and grabbed the thinnest book I could find. It was a “Choose Your Own Adventure.”

If you don’t know what a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book is, then you (and your children) are missing out. Basically, you play the role of the protagonist and make choices to determine the outcome of your story. Sometimes you make the right choice and survive; other times you make the wrong choice and get turned into a little mouse that may or may not be eaten by a cat.

Here we go.

As the protagonist of our story, you are:

THE EMPLOYEE

You’re an employee of the hotel Nicola and Luke stayed at while in Brazil. You have sworn to maintain the privacy of hotel guests; you’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement of sorts to protect the privacy of guests, especially since you have access to VIP areas. You can be a housekeeper, a watchman, a concierge, a seven-foot-tall security guard, whatever tickles your fancy. Doesn’t matter – you’re all bound by the same provisions to protect the privacy of the hotel’s guests. But, in this story, let’s say you’re the housekeeper because – what’s that old saying – the only person who knows everything going on in the house is the maid?

You’re cleaning Nicola’s room and you find lots of signs of a man being in the room. In fact, you find a coat that looks exactly like the one Luke was wearing the night of the premiere. Oh my. As you’re leaving, you see two people making out in the hallway – headed straight towards the room you’re just leaving!  It looks like Nicola and Luke. What do you do?

Choice A: Well, you’re a pervy housekeeper so you pull your phone out and start taking pictures. I mean, those two are so into each other, they don’t even notice. You then run and play show-and-tell with your friends because you can’t keep a damn secret. Unfortunately for you, that gossip spreads faster than lice in a preschool, and hotel management tracks your ass down because, guess what, your friends can’t keep a secret either. So, congratulations on being fired. You’re meeting with the lawyers is first thing in the morning. Oh, we also need your phone and the names of all your friends.

Choice B: You respect the privacy of Nicola and Luke and simply turn and walk the opposite direction. Taking photos of them never even crossed your mind! But, damn, what a good story to tell your bestie when you get home, even if you don’t have “receipts.”

THE VIP GUEST

You’re a random guest staying at the hotel. In fact, you’re a random VIP guest staying on the same floor as Nicola and Luke. When you checked in, you signed a non-disclosure agreement. I mean, you want your privacy protected, too! And, heck, NDAs are thrown out like candy these days. You’ve seen so many at this point, you don’t even bother to read them.

You take the elevator up to your floor and, as you step into the hallway, you’re confronted with – goddammit, there’s two motherfuckers all over each other! The guy is trying to slide his key into the door, but the woman’s dress is so awkwardly large, he can’t seem to find the right slot! You realize the people look a lot like those two stars from Bridgerton, and your best friend, Effie, is a huge fan! What do you do?

Choice A: You can’t believe Effie is missing out on this excitement so, of course, you pull your phone out and start taking pictures!! I mean, that NDA you signed didn’t even cross your mind three minutes later when you were forwarding the pictures to Effie! And, because you can’t control what Effie does, she forwards the pictures to all her Bridgie buddies. The next morning you awaken to find the pictures all over X. Oopsie. You feel slightly guilty, and a bit peeved at Effie – but only until you’ve had your morning coffee.

Choice B: You take people’s privacy very seriously. Well, maybe you don’t take it that seriously, but it would be too difficult to dig your phone out of your handbag to take pictures. And, to be honest, Effie is the huge fan, not you. Plus, it seems the guy finally got that door open and damn, based on the sounds of it, he's unlocked something magical. Oh well. You’ll call Effie in the morning to tell her your story, if you remember it.

THE RANDOM STRANGER

You’re a random stranger taking an evening stroll along the beach. You love the sound of the ocean. It’s so peaceful…the sound of the waves… Ugh, what is that noise?! It sounds like – shit, it is! – two people snogging in a cabana about 10 yards away from you. Wait a minute – is that? Yeah, you think it could be! I mean, you were just at the Bridgerton premiere last night! What do you do? Without hesitation, you pull out your phone!

Choice A: You creep behind an umbrella and zoom in as close as possible with your camera! I mean, shite! You can’t believe this! How long have you been filming?  Probably longer than necessary but who cares? Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, perhaps a seven-foot-tall presence, and you slowly turn around. Fuck! Who’s this guy?! He takes your phone, drops it to the ground, and stomps on it, shattering its insides.  Asshole.  You bend down to pick up the phone, but the man taps your shoulder and shakes his head, “No.” Well, umm, yeah, I guess you best be leaving.

Choice B: You use your camera to zoom in on the couple. Snap! Snap! Snap! Then you get the FUCK OUT OF THERE! You tell yourself you don’t look suspicious at all, even though you’re practically running and your heart is about to pound its way out of your chest! Oh, thank God, you’ve made it to your car. You start it up and, like I said, YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! You get home and take a look at the photos! Goldmine! So, should you drop them on X? Maybe be a little see-you-next-Tuesday and try to sell them to Nicola or Luke’s teams? But, hell, you don’t even know where to start with that! Or, should you just pocket them for your own pleasure? You tell me….

The End.

Yes, I am absolutely being a facetious little ass! The above scenarios were for (the most part) my own entertainment. I mean, there are so many situations where these alleged pictures could exist (these playful ones don’t even scratch the surface). But, do the pictures exist?

If we’re being logical here, you would think that, if anyone in the general public were in possession of these alleged sexy-time pictures of Luke and Nicola, or had seen them, it would be all over social media at this point. I mean, ALL OVER. So, what can we deduce from the fact that they aren’t?

That the pictures probably don’t exist. Don’t shoot the messenger! Seriously, watch where you point that thing!

But, let’s say pictures did exist. Who is the most likely person to dump them on, say, X? The hotel employee, the VIP guest, or the random stranger? I would place money on the random stranger, followed by the VIP guest. The hotel employee, who probably has the most access to VIP guests but the strongest legal barriers, would be the least likely to photo dump. What is the likelihood that someone from one of these three groups – for example, a random stranger – (a) had pictures of Luke and Nicola, (b) didn’t drop them on social media, and/or (c) didn’t share them with someone who dropped them on social media?

I’m all for a good conspiracy theory but I find this one to be a hard pill to swallow.

Maybe one person can act as a lockbox for this kind of secret, but when you start including more people, the ability to keep something (like illicit photographs of two celebrities) out of the public eye diminishes rapidly.

Remember what Benjamin Franklin said, “Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

Unfortunately, this quote is incredibly accurate. The general public cannot keep secrets.

If the pictures exist, they are most likely in the possession of Luke and/or Nicola’s team (of lawyers). So, unless they’re going to sneak them on to X for giggles (I mean, it’s been known to happen), you’re probably never going to see them – and that’s assuming they even exist.

However, if you’re the housekeeper from our first adventure and you happen to have some candid photographs you’re just dying to share, just find yourself a printer – one that cannot easily be linked back to you – and print them out. Then, “accidently” drop them at the feet of someone who knows exactly what they are, and then give them enough time to take their own photos of them and send them to their best friend’s brother’s sister-in-law’s third cousin’s wife’s neighbor, who could drop them on X for us. I mean, you should be golden with seven degrees of separation.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i love him on purpose

for @steddielovemonth using red, white, and royal blue for inspiration

rated t | 1385 words | cw: forced coming out | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, royal steve harrington, wayne munson is the president (god i wish)

🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵

The news broke in the middle of the night, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, and just before Steve’s alarm woke him up.

PRINCE STEVEN CAUGHT HOOKING UP WITH FIRST SON EDDIE, ROYAL FAMILY INSISTS ON SECRECY

Every headline is some variation of Steve and Eddie being caught, but there’s no photos. Most articles point to the royal family not wanting to allow it, but they didn’t even know about it.

Steve’s been so careful, much more careful than Eddie. Eddie’s told his best friends and Wayne, who deserves to know when his nephew turned son is getting into things. Especially when the thing he’s getting into is the Prince of England.

Steve doesn’t really have many friends. He has Robin, who is more like a sister to him, and an entire advisory team, publicists, security…

He won’t answer his phone, which means all of those people have probably informed him he is to have no contact with the outside world until they figure out what to do. Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

They talked about hypotheticals, as any young adults in the public eye are wont to do. How they’d handle the press when they come out. How they would handle Steve’s family when they come out.

All under the assumption that they would have control over their coming out.

How naive.

“Ed. I have to give some kind of message here,” Wayne says softly, gently like he knows that Eddie is gonna beg him not to say anything until he hears from Steve. “Silence ain’t gonna win us any favors.”

“I promised he wouldn’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. “If we make a statement now, I’m just throwing him to the wolves.”

“Not necessarily. Plenty of options with what to say. As long as we acknowledge we’ve seen it, they don’t have to have any other information,” Wayne says. “I’ll follow your lead, kid.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is.”

Wayne pulls him into a hug. This isn’t the first time they’ve had a PR nightmare on their hands, and probably won’t be the last. Wayne’s always been good at handling things just fine.

But this is something Eddie needs to handle. He accepts the comforting hug, then he decides to be brave.

****

“Forcing anyone to come out is disgusting, and the media has done it time and time again. In this case, they took something that should have been up to me, and up to Prince Steve, and made it world news based on a false report of someone seeing us together at an event. Whether we are together romantically or not isn’t up for speculation. We are what we are. We choose how to define that to ourselves, to our loved ones, and maybe someday, to everyone.” Eddie takes a deep breath and looks into the many cameras facing him, trying his best to ignore the reporters anxiously waiting to be able to ask questions. He’s not letting them, but they don’t know that yet. “Respect goes both ways. Pops has always taught me that respect is earned, not freely given. No one in this press room has earned my respect. Until you do, the only news story you can break about me is that I’m disappointed in the way the media has handled this news story. Thanks for your time.”

Eddie leaves the room.

Wayne is waiting for him in his office.

“Proud of ya, son.”

“Thanks.”

“Your boy will be here in four hours.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “He called?”

“He did more than call. He caused a scene with every secretary in the building. He insisted he needed to speak to me.”

“He could’ve called me,” Eddie is pacing.

“You left your phone in here earlier, remember? He was desperate.”

“Is he okay? Have they made a statement yet?”

“They haven’t. They wanted to see what we’d do first.” Wayne holds Eddie’s phone out to him. “But I think he could stand to hear from ya.”

Eddie steps in to take the phone from him, but Wayne clasps his hand between his, holding tight.

“I can’t protect you from the media forever, but I’ll always stick up for you and your happiness. You know that?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie answers.

“That goes for your Prince, too,” Wayne smirks. “His family’s on thin ice, though.”

****

Eddie talks to Steve on the phone for a few minutes, but Steve’s not alone, and Eddie’s trying not to hide away entirely from everyone who cares about him. It’s a short conversation, but it’s enough to get them through until Steve arrives.

He sounds like he’s being stoic.

Eddie knows he’s struggling.

It takes nearly two hours of security for Steve to actually get to Eddie’s suite.

“Baby,” Eddie says as he pulls Steve into his chest, feeling whole for the first time since he woke up. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“They’re making a statement any minute now,” Steve says miserably.

“I’m guessing it’s not what you wanted.” Steve shakes his head in response. “That’s okay. We can work with whatever we need to.”

“They wouldn’t let me do it,” Steve explains. “I wanted to do something like what you did. They said I was too emotional.”

“I think you’re just emotional enough. God forbid you show signs of being a human.”

Steve laughs. Eddie smiles.

“Have you eaten? Do you wanna get cleaned up? I know you hate how airplanes make you feel,” Eddie offers.

Steve tightens his grip around Eddie. That’s answer enough.

****

“We sincerely hope the media will understand that making accusations of this nature about a member of the royal family will not go unpunished. Whether it is true or not, we will be handling this discussion internally. We have contacted the President’s office to have a discussion with their team. Eddie’s statement today was not discussed with us beforehand, nor did it go through any of our approval, and should not be seen as our official statement.”

“Does your grandfather always look like someone pissed directly in his eye?” Eddie asks Steve as they watch the official statement from his room.

“It depends on which of us has displeased him,” Steve laughs. “If it’s my mother, his lip curls up over his teeth.”

Eddie pulls Steve into his side on the couch, turning off the television so they can have some peace. They sit in the silence for a couple of minutes, something neither of them get to do very often.

“Wayne offered us the house in Indiana for a bit. Said it might be nice for us to just be away from the chaos,” Eddie runs his fingers up and down Steve’s arm, smiling to himself when Steve shivers against him. “At least for a few days. Let the media move on and give time for your family to get the sticks surgically removed from their asses.”

“That sounds nice,” Steve agrees, leaning his head back to kiss Eddie’s lips. “I wanna do something first, though.”

Steve pulls away so he can get his phone from the coffee table. It’s been on silent and face down since he arrived. He types for a minute, and Eddie waits.

Steve sets his phone down and turns back to Eddie with a grin.

“Okay, ready to go.”

Eddie’s phone goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks down at where he’s been tagged on Instagram in Steve’s post.

It’s a picture from the trip they took with Wayne to Indiana last month, the two of them by a fire with melted marshmallow all over their lips. They’re both happy.

The caption makes tears pool in Eddie’s eyes and a semi-hysterical laugh burst from his throat.

Doesn’t matter who pissed in his eye, as long as I’ve got you. Let’s go off the grid, baby

“You’re gonna be in so much fuckin’ trouble, baby,” Eddie laughs with disbelief.

“I don’t care. They know better than to cause a bigger scene.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “Can we go to that diner when we get there? The one with the burger that have cheese inside the meat?”

“How American of you,” Eddie teases. “I’ll make sure Wayne calls Benny ahead of time so he knows we’re on our way.”

[1117feverlessdreams]

W.C.P.P. 🎀 ⛓️‍💥- Episode 1

🐈‍⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: After seven long years, you’ve fired your assistant because of your differences. Your new hire, Wooyoung Jung wants nothing but the same as you do, and a lot more than you’d think.

🐈‍⬛~🎀 TAGS/WARNINGS: Cursing/Name-Calling, Mentions of Sex, Mention of Dom-Sub Play.

🐈‍⬛~🎀 WORD COUNT: 11.4K

🐈‍⬛~🎀 A/N: In the beginning, it’s important to pay attention to detail. You never know who/what may come later on. (ALSO WOOYOUNG CUTTING HIS HAIR THE DAY I RELEASED THIS, IM SICK.)

🐈‍⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾 🐾

The sleek, modern office buzzed with activity as creative teams huddled around the latest MacBooks and smartboards.

Your intensifying aura strides throughout the space with piercing stiletto heels that click authoritatively on the polished marble floor.

Today starts with the sudden approach to Mark Lee’s desk, your assistant of seven years. He sat hunched over his computer, oblivious to your approach. You make yourself known as you obnoxiously clear your throat, springing him to spin around rapidly in his chair.

"Mark, a word in my office. Now." Your tone left no room for argument, demanding that the man should follow for his own good.

Your office decor reflects your fierce femininity- pretty and in pink, your favorite color. You held the door open for both of you to enter. As your back collides with the curtain-covered glass door inside, your eyes dart toward the side of Mark's head. The silence becomes entrapped with a soft click. Then you turn to cower him in once more, ensuring that your expression is stern.

“How do you think the meeting went earlier today?" Your voice was measured, betraying none of the frustration you’d felt during the presentation.

Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your wandering gaze. "Um, I think it went alright."

A heated breath shrivels even the hairs in your nostrils, your eyes narrow slightly as you continue to press him. "Mark…honestly, as my assistant of seven years, I notice when my decisions may worry you. So, I'll ask you again,” you warn. “How do you think the meeting went earlier today?"

Mark sighed, his shoulders sagging as he finally met your gaze. "Look, Mrs. Hart, I just think...I think you should have signed that deal with GreenTech. The numbers were solid, and it would've given us a leg up on our competitors." Mark's tone bordered on insolence, his body language relaxed as if he thought he was merely offering a differing opinion.

“‘Quality over quantity’…it’s a phrase that is constantly undermined in the business world.” You chuckle lowly with an underlying menacing tone, determining that your footsteps are purposeful as you travel behind your wide office desk. “But for your sake Mr.Lee…let’s say we did sign that deal.” Mark's eyebrows raise with an attentive quirk, hoping to hear your change of heart.

“Skyrocketed to the top with our profits…”, you continue, “We’d probably make shit product too, but hey!- maybe with that money we’ll make GreenTech cover our tracks.” That’s not exactly what he hoped for, and yet he remains seated without choice but to listen. “Where’s the competition in that Mark?”

Mark, with his face flushed, leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Mrs.Hart, you have to think about the offer without playing the moral high ground here. Business is about making profit, not about making friends, or producing some perfect, ethical product." He paused, his expression turning cunning.

Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Mark's presumptuousness. You lean in closer, and for his sake, you turn your voice low with the same level of intensity. "How do you think money is made in business, Mark? By cutting corners, sacrificing quality, leaving a trail of subpar products and obviously disgruntled customers in our wake?"

“That’s not the way I see it madam“, Mark grumbles. “There will always be the next best thing. That’s why there’s competition! Just think about it! With GreenTech in our market, we will always be the best.”

Like a thick block of ice, your face hardened to its core, and your expression remains cold. "It’s a shame that you could be so wrong, Mark. Competition is about offering a superior product, not buying our way to the top,” you say plainly. “I expected more from you…my assistant of seven years."

Mark's jaw tensed as the words he’s always wanted to say battle on his tongue. "Oh please, you've always been short-sighted Mrs.Hart. With the kind of money GreenTech is offering, we could bury our competitors! We'd set the standard, not just try to keep up with it!”

That was it, the last re‘Mark he could make, and then came dangerous consequences.

“Short-sighted?! Mark…” You address coldly, "I'm disappointed. You've bought into the very thing I've always tried to stand against." You walk over toward your high ceiling windows, a view of all surrounding industrial architecture.

“Perhaps you’re short-sighted one. Quite frankly…I couldn’t envision a capitalist in my company's success. I'll be revising your position within the company. Mark Lee…”, you say with a slight head turn, “you are dismissed.”

Mark's face contorted with anger and betrayal as your malicious words began to sink in. "You seriously can’t be considering firing me over this," he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "After everything I've done for this company, you're just going to toss me aside because I have a differing opinion?"

You turn your attention back to the distant outside view, seeing it as pointless to give him the time of day. “Business comes with compromise. Your “opinion” derives from GreenTech beliefs, and based upon this conversation, you’ve tossed yourself onto their side.”

Mark burst up, screeching his sitting chair across the polished flooring. "I'm not some change in GreenTech's pocket. I just believe in seizing opportunities when we see them! You're the one who's being stubborn and stuck in your ways, Mrs.Hart!”

With his challenging words, you had to look him in the eye. To see him cower. For him to fully feel you overpower. “There it is. You, and everyone in this company, that’s your real and raw opinion about me.” You turn slightly so he can see your pleased expression and provide him a round of applause, because speaking up surely had been a feat he’s been wanting to conquer for quite some time.

"You're unyielding, Mrs.Hart, and that's what's going to be your downfall. You can't keep dismissing ideas just because they don't align with your perfect little moral compass," Mark hissed, his face reddened with boiling anger.

“Dismissed.”, you quip with the click of your tongue. You remain unmoved, calmness frighteningly rooting from where you stand. “Allow your replacement to enter please.”

Mark ferocious gaze shuffles between you and what awaits behind the door. He storms to unlock it, his hand flinging dramatically backward as he opens the door to meet his maker.

The new guy's balled fist stalls in the air, his eyes darting between you who is dangerously content, and the infuriated Mark. He hesitates to enter, uncertainty written in bold all over his face. "I, uh, I assume I'm not interrupting anything important?" he asks cautiously.

“He’s been dismissed”, you carelessly announce. “You’ll take his place for the time being.”

You smile graciously, pleased with the divine timing. Wooyoung Jung was the perfect candidate. Charming with a perfect resume, and similar to you, as you do say so fabulously yourself, looks that could kill.

Mr Jung’s eyes widen slightly, but he quickly composes himself. "Oh, is that really it? I must admit, I didn't expect to be stepping into this role so soon," he says, walking further into the room. He casts one last glance at Mark before focusing on the person he came to impress.

Next thing you knew the door slams and Mark disappears, making your eyes squeeze shut, and Mr.Jung to tsk. You blink open your eyes upon hearing the noise of disapproval he made, making you all the more intrigued to turn around and meet such a character.

With finely cut long black hair, a small, yet intimidating face, and a respectful demeanor- you were considering him platonically attractive at the least. Perhaps it wouldn’t piss you off to see his face in office every weekday.

“I admire the decoration in your office madam. Pink adds a new touch to all things business.” He grins to you with glee with a lack of oppression on his nerves.

“Why…thank you.”, you mumble in surprise. “This is short notice,” you cut in, avoiding elongating pleasant greetings. “I apologize for the ongoing…drama. But if you would like to dismiss yourself, you could follow behind Mark there. The work environment is preferably... fast-paced.”

Mr.Jung clears his throat, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, no, it's quite alright. I'm flattered you've chosen me to fill this role. I assure you, I can keep pace with whatever this position requires." He extends his hand towards you.

You take his hand gesturing for him to sit across from you where your ex-employee took a stand. "Mark and I have... differing views on how the company should progress." You pause, eyeing Mr.Jung curiously. "I hope this won't be an issue for you.”

Mr.Jung tilts his head as he grins charmingly, his hands slipping into each other comfortably on his lap. “Just steer me in the direction you wanna go. No matter where, I’ll always be your right-hand man.”

You smile for the first time since Mark's presence disappeared from the space. “The expectations are high for you now Mr. Jung. I carry promises like those in the front of my mind.”

His smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I won't let you down, Mrs. Hart. I promise I'll prove myself worthy of your high expectations." He pauses, "And please, call me Wooyoung."

You turn in your chair, and grab a clipboard and pen, sliding it across the desk to him. “Well Wooyoung, I hope you are ready for your first-ever business meeting.”

…

During the meeting, Wooyoung listens intently to the presentations, asking insightful questions and offering thoughtful suggestions that clearly show he's not just knowledgeable, but also cares deeply about the company's success. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, thoroughly impressed by his intuition and outspokenness.

"I understand that we're aiming for a quick turnaround on this project," Wooyoung interjects during a discussion on project timelines. "But I think we should allocate more resources to quality assurance. Rushing might lead to oversights that could cost us more time and money in the long run."

Then there was once a marketing director, presenting a campaign idea that you seemed hesitant about. "I think we should consider a more digital approach," He interjects once again, and confidently. "Millennials and Gen Z are our target audience. They're not flipping through magazines or watching TV ads like they used to."

“He's right,” you chime in, your eyes appreciative as they meet Wooyoung's who’s sat across from you. "Let's allocate our budget to influencer partnerships and social media ads. And let's discuss this further after the meeting, Wooyoung.”

…

“This may be the first time in ages a man has kept true to his word with me,” you say to him after the meeting, “you quite literally took the words from my mouth.”

Wooyoung grins, leaning against the edge of your desk. "Well, I try my best to read the room. And you wear your thoughts rather openly on your face, Mrs. Hart."

You find this amusing, considering reading the room is your unique skill. “I don’t hold back, or rather, I can’t afford to. It was relieving to step back from being the bitchy boss for a change.”

"Well, I'm glad I could help you take a step back," Wooyoung remarks, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "For what it's worth, I find your honesty refreshing. And I assure you, I can handle the 'bitchy boss'. I thrive under challenge."

You genuinely chuckle and extend your hand for him to take. “Welcome to The “Better Business Co.”

🐈‍⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

As the days go by, Wooyoung's presence starts to have a noticeable effect on the office's mood. Colleagues who were once distant or quiet are now opened up and engaged in conversations. The atmosphere is lighter, with more laughter and genuine smiles. You aren’t ignorant of the changes, and it's not lost on Wooyoung either.

One day, as he's is chatting with some colleagues during lunch, you happened to pass by the table. You’re surprised to see him laughing freely with his coworkers, his natural charm and wit shining through. You pause in place, watching him for a moment before continuing on your way, a small smile playing on your lips.

Soon, you start to realize that Wooyoung's positive energy is infectious, and you find yourself feeling more relaxed and approachable. You start to initiate conversations with your team, asking about their weekends and hobbies.

The once-stuffy office is now filled with the sound of laughter and friendly banter. But business is still business of course.

As much as you worry to admit, you look forward to seeing Wooyoung's face in the morning. His warm smile and easy demeanor set the harmonious tone for the work day. You catch yourself humming along to the music playing in the background, something you never ever do. Even the usually grumpy IT guy can't help but crack a smile whenever he walks by.

As you and Wooyoung walk down the hallway together after another entertaining meeting, your colleagues greet you with daily smiles and waves. "Morning, Mrs. Hart! Mr. Jung!" someone calls out. He was so remarkably casual, a few high-five him as they see him pass by.

You can't help but notice how popular he's become. It made you ponder your work relationships at his side. Which made you realize, ‘relationships’ weren’t in your vocabulary.

You lean over towards him whispering, “You're like the office mascot. how does it feel to be so well loved?" Your eyes sparkle as you smile teasingly.

Wooyoung grins bashfully, running a hand through his flowing hair. "I guess I'm just a people person..but you know, it's not just me. You've lightened up too. The whole office feels like a different place now," he replies, his gaze warm as he smirks cheerfully at you.

It causes you to huff as you begrudgingly confess. “I suppose I have. But I’m never letting my guard down though when it comes to my business. I’m still tough like a clam.”

Wooyoung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I wouldn't expect anything less from our 'bitchy boss'." He winks at you, his tone playful. "But even a tough clam needs to come out of its shell once in a while."

…

The office is transformed for the night, strings of fairy lights casting a warm glow over the space. Laughter fills the air as colleagues mingle, enjoy good food, and let loose.

Wooyoung, dressed in a sharp suit, is behind the makeshift bar, mixing drinks with a flourish.

You finish a conversation and look for your new partner in crime. You realize his natural mingling nature may never be cut short from serving drinks all night long, so instead, you walk over to him yourself.

“Hey Jung, have you ever had a drink yourself yet?” You fold your arms onto the counter as you approach it. “I bet you could use it before everyone else here. After me, of course.”

Wooyoung looks up from his bartending duties, flashing you a grateful smile. "You know me too well. I've been so caught up in making sure everyone else is having a good time, I haven't had a chance to enjoy anything myself." He reaches for a clean glass, preparing himself a drink.

You wait until he’s finished and raise your half-empty glass for a cheers. “To our partnership…and the grand endeavors we’ll be rewarded along the way.”

Wooyoung clinks his glass against yours, his eyes meeting yours over the rim. "To partnerships, and proving that business and fun can be compatible." He takes a sip, his gaze never leaving your face. "You did an amazing job with this party by the way."

“Oh dear”, you snicker, “if it weren’t for you, a party would be the last thing on my checklist. We did an amazing job.”

He shakes his head, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Don't sell yourself short, Mrs.Hart. You're the one who decided to reward the team. I just helped you execute your vision." He leans over the counter with a playful wink, going over the remainder of his drink into his mouth.

Your face becomes flushed, flicking your wrist in distraction to swig your glass, only to spot it empty.

What's worse is that in truth, you had become a bit tipsy.

"Besides," Wooyoung continues, misinterpreting your flustered expression to be unphased, "it's not every day I get to work alongside such a... power boss." He winks playfully, grabbing a bottle behind the bar to refill your glass.

“A power boss?” You murmur. That’s a new one, but it’s the best name by far. Looks like I finally found someone to put up with my bitchiness.” You lift up your glass in celebration, slaying your arms over the stool in victory.

Woo laughs heartily, clinking his glass against yours once more. "And I love every minute of it." He takes a sip, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You know…”, he trails off, “some people might say we make a pretty great team, both in and out of the boardroom."

“Yeah?” You murmur, blowing out a harsh breath. Mostly due to the burning alcohol in your stomach. “Who said that?”

A mischievous grin appears on Wooyoung's face as he leans in closer. I might have overheard a couple of our colleagues discussing earlier. They were saying how well we complement each other, and..." He pauses for dramatic effect, “how our dynamic is almost...romantic?” He raises an eyebrow with an unveiling expression, gauging your reaction.

The office has been buzzing with such rumors for weeks. What goes around comes around to you like clockwork. But the folks in the office have been careful not to address either of you directly. "But we'd make a terrible couple, right?"

You freeze in disbelief before drunkenly waving off such a claim. “Damn right. We’re both too stubborn. We’d be unstoppable then.”

Wooyoung chuckles, taking another sip of his drink. A rather large one in comparison to the lasts. "Exactly..besides, I couldn't handle being bossed around 24/7." "Though I must admit, there are some perks to the idea." His gaze flickers to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes again.

“Oh yeah? Well, lemme hear 'em.” You suddenly become confident with the liquid courage, and he is no help, he continues what he initiated with the liquor flowing like blood in his system.

Wooyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Well, for one, your... assertiveness would be quite... stimulating in other situations." He smirks, watching your reaction closely.

The sudden change of mood makes you spit out a little laughter and nearly fall out of your seat- to which Wooyoung catches you, but almost falls over himself.

You lean in and whisper childishly with a hand hovering over the sides of your face. “Do you mean like…

“Sex?”

A brief widening of Wooyoung's eyes occurs, followed by a soft laugh, his face flushed. "Eh, erm, yeah...that's one of many perks that came to mind."

You giggle in amusement, wiggling a teasing finger at how heated he became at his own jest. Just as your moving close to his chisled cheek, with his eyes allured on your dazed face, you lose balance from out of your seat.

Wooyoung helps steady your waving form, his hands are gentle, and firm. "Ah...see? You're drunk sweetheart. "I'm not sure that's an appropriate topic for the office party anyway."

You groan in annoyance and set down your glass. You lean forward again, trying to maintain contact with his deep eyes as your eyes blink out of sync. “What happens to putting the fun in business”, you whine. “Your a little…party pooper. I wanna go home.” Your head wanes back and forth, then tumbling down to smack the countertop.

Wooyoung sighs, rubbing his temples. He looks around the party, which has started to wind down, and he decides then, it's probably for the best. "Alright, alright. Let's get you home." He carefully moves around the bar to pick you up, cradling you in his arms.

You continue on, whining and complaining about wanting to go to bed with your arm thrown around his neck-pulling him down in the slightest. “Hey you…party pooper…tuck me in already”, you burp.”

He trudges you successfully out of the office, ignoring your complaints. Once you're both in his car, he carefully buckles you into the passenger seat before getting in behind the wheel. As he drives, he can't help but glance over from time to time. It was extremely rare to have ever seen you like this.

Wooyoung pulls a quick hand off the wheel and sends a voice text to your HR representative, asking them to wrap things up and make sure everyone gets home safely. He then focuses back on the road, determined to get you home without any more eventful detours. "There, all taken care of," he says, more to himself than to anyone else.

A sudden road bump pangs your head into the door, and you moan painfully, waving a measly finger at your subordinate.“Hey, don’t drink and drive!”

Wooyoung can't help but adore at your drunken concern. "Don't worry, I'm perfectly sober. I only had the drinks we shared. You, on the other hand..." He glances at her, shaking his head fondly. "What am I going to do with you, madam?"

You frown with etched brown, drunkenly trying to think long and hard about what you should do. It makes your headache worsen even more and you simply give up. “Arghhh, I dunno…”

A warmth spread through his chest at your petulant expression. He pulls up to your apartment building and parks the car. "Come on, let's get you inside." He reaches across to unbuckle your seatbelt, sliding his hands around your waist to help you out of the car carefully.

You don’t know what happened in between but you have already made it to the elevator “Eight, room 816,” you whisper. The door closes as you both elevate to the eighth floor. You lean on Wooyoung when you stumble, his hold is automatic, and he finds it so amusing. “You’re so warm.” You drunkenly express, “like my blanket.”

Wooyoung chuckles softly as he supports your weight, his hands resting comfortably on your hips. "I'm glad I can be your human blanket." He guides you out of the elevator when you arrive at the floor with a ding and down the hall to your door. "Now, where are your keys, sleepyhead?"

“I won’t tell you that they’re in my purse.” You whisper, and quite literally waving a finger ‘no’.

He sighs and carefully sets you down on the floor, kneeling in front of you to dig vigorously through your deep designer purse. "You're making this much harder than it needs to be madam," he mutters, finally finding the keys.

“Sorry.” You sheepishly mutter.

“I forgive you.” Wooyoung unlocks the door and pulls you inside, guiding you to the place you've wanted to be all night long, the bedroom.

He sits you down softly on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of you, gently removing your feet from your gruesome hot pink heels.

"There, that's better, Wooyoung proclaims. “Now, let's get you under the covers before you pass out on top of them."

In a way, you make things a small bit easier, smiling and pulling your body in the sheets with him like a lazy rag doll. “Ahhh…home sweet home.”

Wooyoung tucks you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin as if you were his child. A strand of hair is brushed out of your face by him in another sign of parental affection. "Sleep well. You’re going to need it.”

He pulls back as you nuzzle in warmth, speculating a small glance of discomfort in your features. At first, he hesitates, but then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the harsh kiss between your eyebrows.

Wooyoung lingers for a moment, his lips still against your forehead, before gently pulling away. To his surprise the crease melts flat, ceasing in appearance.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself as he watches over your form. "Mrs.Hart," he whispers softly, "We need to talk."

Without speaking any further, he leaves your apartment shortly after. He didn’t expect a response of course, nor for you to remember these moments in the next morning. It was more so of a practice run, a severe need to ease relief from the front of his mind.

The drive home is spent lost in thought, the gold city lights blurred outside his windows. Once he arrived home, he stripped down to his boxers and fekk into bed.

But sleep is harder than most nights, and it’s all your fault.

…

The next morning, Wooyoung strides into the office with a purpose. He's dressed sharp, his mind focused solely on business. At first glance, you would have never thought anything worrying was crushing on his nerves.

He greets his employees with a polite nod, and his face derives from anything non-neutral. As he settles behind his desk, he pulls out a folder containing the day's agenda.

You, on the other hand, are hungover. Someone looked after you this morning-setting out your clothes and saving you lots of time and embarrassment in the process- because you were started to settle on PJs.

All alone in your office, you suffer in silence from your headache, drinking both tea and coffee to wake you up and liven your mood.

Wooyoung walks in happily as he does every working morning, noticing your slow movements and frequent face-palms from his office. He suppresses a smile, instead walking over to your office with two ibuprofen tablets and a bottle of water. "Here," he says, setting them down neatly on your desk. "For your head."

You greatly take them as soon as they’re placed in front of you, swallowing one dry as you down the water to prepare for another. “Wooyoung…thank you for this, and for getting me home safely. From this headache, I can imagine I was a hot mess.” You pull your hands to smooth the sides of your head, moaning as the pain subsides.

He leans against the nearest wall with his arms crossed. "You were," he says bluntly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "But I took care of you, and that’s what I'm here for." His gaze intensifies, holding amusingly onto yours.

You hiss from looking up toward the ceiling lights. “Yeah but last night might’ve been a little extreme, and it won’t happen. Anyway, what’s on today’s agenda?”

He pulls out a folder from under his arm and walks over to set it down on your desk. "Today, we're finalizing the contract for the new club downtown."

“Good”, you scan over the contents inside the folder with a breath of relief. “Nothing that over-exerts the energy that I don’t have. Today should be easy.”

Wooyoung straightens up, his smirk deepening. "Just leave the heavy lifting to me, my hungover delicate flower. I'll make sure everything runs smoothly."

You chuckle at his typical teasing. It was never too much. Just unpredictable, but effective. “I’ll treat you to dinner after work. It’s the least I could do for my non-professional-like behavior.

Wooyoung's eyes glint with excitement. "Deal," he replies. "But tonight, I choose the restaurant. And…," he adds, shifting aimlessly on his heel, "you're not driving. I'll pick you up."

Without a beat, you throw your hands up beside your head without banter. “You don’t hear any complaints from me!”

He grins at you wolfishly, clearly pleased. "Good. Because I have the perfect place in mind”, he says cheekily. “Now, let's get to work, Madam Hart. We've got a contract to finalize." He winks at you and saunters out of your office, whistling an original tune.

…

As the day progresses, Wooyoung does indeed take the lead, handling the more demanding tasks with ease. In admiration you watch him, impressed by his imitation of your assertiveness and confident demeanor.

As the discoursed work day came to its end, the business still stood on all fours thanks to Better Business Company’s Mr. Jung.

True to his word, Wooyoung arrives at your apartment later that evening. He's dressed for a casual outing, his long hair tucked back into a ponytail with two neatly placed front strands. He rings the doorbell, a bouquet tucked under one arm.

Your company comes as expected as you lie idly on your couch. You walk to answer the door, looking more refreshed and rejuvenated than earlier today in a pink slip-dress. "Hey…you look nice."

"You look… well-rested," Wooyoung amends, smiling. "For you Madam. They’re pink!"

The large bouquet of petunias came out in surprise. You would’ve seen them sooner if you weren’t processing your focus in his face before it could make its way down to the rest of his body. “Oh…Wooyoung I- what are these for? I’m already in your debt. I don’t need you to buy me flowers.”

"Nonsense," he replies, pushing the bouquet firmly into your arms. "Consider it a peace offering. For last night, and for being such a trooper today despite your hangover." He grins mischievously.

You turn foot into your apartment as you roll your eyes. “Well let me just set these in my vase, and we can get going to this mystery spot.”

Wooyoung nods, watching as you bustle around and make picky remarks about the secret place he selected. He notices little details - a book on the coffee table, a photograph on the wall, a stack of unopened mail. He files these away in his mental library, eager to learn more about you outside of his paycheck. "Ready?" he asks once you return, his hand waits for yours to hold.

“More than I’ll ever be.” You take his hand as the tips of your fingers brush over his palm. But once you’ve made it outside your door, you pull it out of his subtle grip.

Wooyoung snickers under his breath, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't worry, it's not a surprise skydiving session." He places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the building and down to his car.

“That would be such a dick move after a hangover,” you scoff as you approach the door.

"Mmm, note to self: no extreme activities post-Mrs.Hart’s bender." he chuckles, moving around to open the passenger door for you.

On the drive there it’s no different. Wooyoung fills the silence with baited banter, making you fall for it so gullibly, despite your usual self.

The car arrived at a nondescript building. Wooyoung leads you up a flight of stairs to a rooftop patio. String lights twinkle overhead, and the air is filled with the sizzle of cooking and the low murmur of conversation. He guides you to a small table in a quiet corner.

You nod approvingly at your new surroundings, smiling warmly at Wooyoung who has been watching your reaction with glee. “Fresh air, check. Warm high-calorie food, check. Nice company….check. This may be the ideal hangover spot. Well played Mr. Jung.”

Wooyoung grins, taking his seat after pulling out yours. "I have my moments."

He picks up his menu, scanning it for a few seconds before setting it down without a second glance. Rather he looks across the table at your downturned eyes. "Now, let's see... what do you hungover crave? Greasy food? Carbs? Something spicy to clear out those sinuses?"

“Mmm…”, you hum, dazzling over the menu while scooching playfully on your seat. “I’ll have a mix of all the above.”

"Excellent choice," Woo says, approvingly. He flags down a waitress, placing an order for two of their special, ‘Hangover Helpers'.

While waiting for your orders, you decide to pick up on less frivolous conversations. “Did I do anything odd that made you uncomfortable while I was drunk? I swear I can’t remember a darn thing besides going to bed.”

Wooyoung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, nothing too out of the ordinary," he says, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Just the usual drunken musings and some...affectionate gestures."

You squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth in frustration. “Dammit! That is one of the things I didn’t want to hear! Did it make you uncomfortable?”

His smirk widens into a full-blown grin. “You drunkenly telling me I'm ‘so dreamy' and trying to hug me was adorable. It didn’t make me uncomfortable in the least, I just wish I had recorded it."

“Okay…”, you start with a genuine laugh, “I don’t even have to be sober to know I, in fact, did not say-“

"Oh, yes you did," Wooyoung insists, his eyes dancing with amusement. "And you also informed me that my hair is 'like satin'. Your words, not mine." He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“You truly amuse me”, you bitterly scoff.

"Oh, but you did," he continued, leaning forward. "And then you proceeded to pat my cheeks and declare that, ‘I had such a sweet face'. You were quite taken with my face actually."

Your eyes lower in a deadpan expression. You reach forward to grab a menu, fanning it in your face. “I have a feeling that I was more infatuated with my bed than anything.”

"Ah,” he concedes with a chuckle, “but the bed was a close second. "You did have a rather passionate reunion with your pillow when I finally got you into bed." He shakes his head, still grinning. "I swear…your drunk self is a riot."

You huff quietly with a small smile that dissipates in seconds. “I’ve only heard that a couple of times with Mark…he’d just let me lay on top of the bedding- and forget about setting my clothes out for tomorrow. He said I was so impossible to deal with, he couldn’t even take off my shoes.”

Wooyoung's expression softens, his humor fading for a moment. "Well, I managed," he says quietly. "It wasn't so bad. Though I will admit, you were a lot more childish than usual.”

Your eyes snap up from his use of words- your turn the menu down in disbelief. “What! Oh gosh… I don’t think I wanna know what happens next.”

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad," he groans, his grin returning. Before he could further explain the waitress serves your platters.

Wooyoung dives into his food with enthusiasm, occasionally stealing glances at you teasingly as you prepare to eat. He watches as you take a big first bite, your eyes fluttering closed briefly in satisfaction. "Good?"

Your eyes feast on the rest of your meal rather than the man who invited you out to dinner. “Breakfast never tasted so good.”

"I'm glad," Wooyoung mumbles, his mouth full of food. He swallows and takes a sip of his coffee before continuing. "Though I have to say, you seemed to enjoy your pillow just as much last night. Quite the dramatic reunion with it."

“Okay, let it go!” You chew with a small laugh, and there was more where that came from for the rest of your dinner.

…

Wooyoung mimics your every giggle to your apartment, leaning against the closed door. "Well, at least this time you're sober." His grin is quick and charming. "Mostly."

You hold back a smile and push him away from the door, fumbling while grabbing your keys that fell to the bottom of your purse- giving Wooyoung major deja vu vibes from last night. “Well I promise you won’t have to cuddle me in bed this time- and set out my outfits.”

When you finally found your key, you held it up like a bar of gold, quickly inserting it through the lock and entering the apartment.

You turn to Wooyoung, but the intensity in the air fills with an odd lingering desire to stay in each other's company. The night was still young, and the office was closed for the weekend...

“Would you like to come in?”

His gaze follows into the apartment, his eyes lingering on you as you turn your back to him, walking towards the hall to your bedroom. If he said no, you’d have to awkwardly walk back to the door, and slam it quickly to just blame it on you still being hungover the next day.

The intensity in the air is palpable, the unspoken desire to prolong this moment hangs heavily. Wooyoung steps inside, closing the door behind him. "Just for a minute."

You approach the bedroom door, opening it up just a bit with a small creak. “I’m just going to change back into my PJs. Make yourself comfortable if you’d like.”

Wooyoung watches as you disappear down the hall. He doesn’t understand why his shoulders drop from tension as you leave the room. He lets out a slow breath, trying to rein in his thoughts.

He walks over to the gray velvet sofa with pink pillow decor, sits down, and runs a hand over to the back of his head to remove his hair tie- dislodging a few strands from its careful styling.

Moments after you come back out in your pink (of course) satin pajamas- making yourself comfortable on the couch with glasses of water for the both of you.

Wooyoung's eyes follow you as you re-enter, his gaze lingering in satisfaction in the way the satin clings to your curves. He takes the glass of water you offer, your fingers brushing briefly. "Thanks," he murmurs, taking a sip to distract himself from the sudden dryness in his throat.

His change of demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you, part of being a good CEO is reading the bodily behavior of your colleagues. “You sure that’s all that went last night Mr. Jung? I feel like you might be disassociating with some kind of- PTSD.”

His smirk revives at your teasing tone, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Very funny," he drawls, setting his glass down on the coffee table with a deliberate clink. "I'm just thinking, that’s all."

You weigh your leg into a cushion, settling your back into a pillow in the corner. “A glass of water for your thoughts?”

Wooyoung's expression suddenly turns serious, his gaze intent as he peers over at you for a few heartbeats. "Just...about how different this is from last night," he says slowly. "And how much...I don't want it to end."

A tapping sound clinks on your glass from your fingernails as silence reigns after his confession. “I respect you for being so open about that, I know that wasn’t the easiest thing. Which is why…I too feel the same way.”

His eyebrows melts and his pout lies flat as relief etches into his features. "Good," he breathes. Leaning forward, he sets his glass down. The movement brings him closer to you, and the space between you both shrinks in distance.

“Oh, come on.” You whine, the sudden moments of silence were becoming exasperated. “When the spotlights on you, you want to shrivel up in the dark and be nonchalant? What’s bothering you Wooyoung?”

His chest tightens at your words, his heart pounding in his ears. He looks into your eyes, seeing the warmth and understanding there, and it's like a dam starts breaking inside him. "I'm scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sensing the seriousness that arises, you sigh in guilt, setting your water down as you gesture toward your chest for Wooyoung to lie upon. “I won’t push it.”

He hesitates for just a moment before slowly leaning forward, resting his head on satin-clad chest. Your warmth envelops him, your laundry wash filling his nostrils. He exhales shakily, his arms coming up to wrap around smoothly around your waist. "I'm scared of messing this up."

Your face scrunches up in confusion. If anything, everything he’s done so far is miles away from a fuck up. “You don’t need to worry. The business thrives with you in it. If anything I’ll slip up before you do.”

Wooyoung lets out a huff of laughter at your comforting words, his arms tightening around you as he exhales another snapping breath. "That's not what I meant," he says quietly. His fingers trace irregular patterns on your back through the satin. "I'm scared of scaring you off. Of wanting too much."

You scoff, shaking your head with worry and whispering, “I’m sure whatever you have planned for the company will be in its best interest. You cook up great innovations Wooyoung. I trust you most.”

His breath regulates at your revelation, a warmth spreading through his chest that has nothing to do with body heat. He tilts his head to look up at you, his eyes shining marvelously with emotion. "You trust me?" he asks softly, almost desperately.

“I never thought I’d see the day I say it to any man…but yes!” You chuckled. “I trust you, Wooyoung Jung.”

His face breaks into a wide, heartfelt smile. "Good," he murmurs, before leaning up to lay back on his elbows. When he pulls away, he props his head on the top of the sofa, his voice is barely a whisper. "Because I trust you with me, Mrs.Hart."

A hand you had casually been held up where his head lied poked him on the forehead. “That’s what makes us so compatible, partner.”

‘Partner’, he thinks, the word resonating to the deep thoughts within him.

…

In the following week at the office, you and Wooyoung have fallen into an upbeat rhythm. You spent hours debating over contracts, brainstorming new evolutionary ideas, and sharing laughter over late-night work sessions. One evening, as you’re wrapping up, Wooyoung leans back in his chair, rubbing his drowsy eyes.

You shut off your desktop, holding the power button until you see pitch black. “This week catching up to you too huh?”

Wooyoung nods, a rueful smile on his face. "You could say that. I feel like I've been running on caffeine and adrenaline." He stands up and stretches, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his toned stomach. "What do you say we call it a night?

Your jaw tenses as you take an accidental peak at his abdomen, you grab a pen and scribble on a sticky note- alleviating your focus elsewhere. “I’m up for it. Tomorrow is our day off, and we’re caught up for the next couple of months if things go to plan.”

"Mhm, and things will go to plan," he bursts out confidently, rounding his desk to where you scribble your thoughts on paper. He comes up behind you, and your doodles come to a slow. It wasn’t until you felt massages to your shoulders that the tension melted under his fingers.

You moan softly, tilting your neck for Wooyoung to access those sore spots your massage gun touches every hard work day.

His grin widens at your quiet moan, his thumbs working the knots out of your pointed shoulders. "Mmhmm, just like that," you murmur approvingly. As he works, he leans down, his breath fanning over your ear. "Have I told you how much I appreciate you lately?”, he devilishly whispers.

"Not nearly enough," you jokingly reply, your voice low.

Wooyoung huffs, continuing to massage your shoulders, his touch easing as he feels you relax under his ministrations. “You're the backbone of this company, Mrs.Hart. And not just the company...me too. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your eyes snap open, you grab onto the hands Wooyoung held over your shoulders in a still. “You know that goes both ways.”

Both of his hands smooth over your back blades as he backs away to turn your chair around, dropping to his knees before you. His hands take claim off you this time, thumping in your lap. "Yes, it does," he agrees softly, his eyes focused on yours in a deep search.

The office is quiet around you, the only sound is the soft hum of the computers on standby. There was something about him at this moment that made it hard to swallow. To move, to just breathe. He just looked so striking under the one ceiling light that illuminated the room.

“Okay…”, you sufferingly clear your throat, “let’s get a move on. If you keep doing that time will be pouring into tomorrow.”

Wooyoung nods as his head casts downward with a wicked grin, reluctantly releasing onto your hands. He arises first, helping you to your feet. "Alright, alright. Let's go," he groans, walking with you towards the elevator. As you both step inside, he hits the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall behind you.

You mindlessly look at the secured sliding doors, dreaming about the freedom outside of it, wondering what your day off would entail.

The elevator begins to descend, the soft hum filling the silence between them. Wooyoung watches your blurred expression through the reflective steel walls of the elevator. He places his hands tentatively on your shoulders once again. "A massage for your thoughts?" he mimics from last week's hang out.

Your eyes shutter as soon as you feel rhe contact of his warmth. “I’m just waiting for tomorrow. Mentally, I’m already there.”

Wooyoung chuckles, pulling off once again to stand by your side as the floor gets closer for departure, bumping your hip with his own. "Me too. It's going to be a good day," he comments, his tone filled with promise. The elevator dings, as the doors slide open. He places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out into the lobby.

You both walk out to your cars which are now parked next to each other- because it just makes sense with how often you work together.

As you both approach the cars you push start on your keys, and you both arrive at your drivers' doors simultaneously. "And Mrs.Hart?" You look up to meet Wooyoung, who is already eyeing you. "Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get home?"

You giggle as you chew nibbles on your lips. “You know I’m no good at that. I’ll probably be blowing boogers in my sheets by the time I get home.”

Wooyoung pulls open his door with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Fair point. Just ask your Alexa, she’ll do all the work.” He opens his door, sliding into the driver's seat before leaning over to roll down the passenger window. "Goodnight, Mrs.Hart."

You slide into your car, mimicking his action before waving at him with a small smile. “Goodnight Wooyoung, drive safe.”

He waits until your car pulls out of the parking lot before putting his car in gear. He watches your taillights until they disappear around the corner, a contented smile on his face as he starts the drive home.

…

Wooyoung wakes up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. He stretches flexibly, the blankets roll away from his bare chest. He stands up to freely pull off his boxers, padding naked to the bathroom.

After completing his morning routine, he wraps a towel around his waist and heads downstairs.

He eats his eggs and rice slowly, his mind drifting to the possibilities of your whereabouts. He thinks about your strength, your confidence, your unyielding feminist nature.

He thinks about kneeling before you, about your hands gripping his hair, about your voice ordering him to... He shakes his head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

He hears a distant ping from his coffee machine and walks back into the kitchen to pour himself a mug, adding plentiful spoonfuls of sugar before taking a seat at the table. As he sips his coffee, his mind wanders back to you.

He remembers how you handled a difficult client last week. How you stood tall, your eyes blazing with anger as you dressed the man down. He remembers the way your voice dropped to that low, commanding tone when you were displeased. He swallows hard, his body reacting dangerously to the memory.

He takes a shuddering breath, his towel tenting obscenely in his lap. He knows he shouldn't be thinking about his boss this way. It's inappropriate and unprofessional. But he can't help it. The thought of her dominating him, controlling him completely, sets his blood on fire.

Coincidentally, he receives a text later that day as he's lounging on his bed, flipping through the channels on his TV.

You: I know it's our day off but could you come over?

You: I need some brawn over here.

Wooyoung: No worries.

Wooyoung: I haven’t moved from my bed since I ate breakfast this morning. Coming over.”

In no time flat, he quickly gets dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before making his way over giddily to your apartment. When he arrives, he knocks and hears a voice yelling from inside. “Come on in!”

He walks into you trying to carry a box into your room. Your face is flushed with red, and strands of hair fall out piece by piece out of your bun. "I swear, if I break a nail..." you muttered under your breath.

Like a track star he quickly strides over, wrapping his arms around the other side of the box. "You can let go, I’ll take care of it," he says, easily lifting it out of your hands. He carries it into your bedroom, placing it on the floor beside your bare mattress. "What is all this stuff woman?"

You follow him inside, sighing at all the packages you have yet to unbox. “It’s all for my queen-size four-poster bed. I should’ve let those guys charge me to build it.”

Wooyoung's eyes widen as he processes the implications. A queen size bed with four posters...perfect for-

tying someone up?

He swallows hard, stressing to keep his composure. "That's... that's a really nice bed," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“Yeah…I figured it looked nice with a canopy,” you remark, “it’ll make this space less boring I guess.”

Wooyoung nods, his eyes darting to the bedposts. He imagines being bound to them, helpless, at mercy. The thought makes his heart race. He turns away, busying himself with disassembling the box. "What all do you need help with again?"

You turn to him awkwardly with an embarrassed grin. “I think I need you for the whole build… if you have the time?”

He starts to talk but he hesitates, struggling to blindside his racing mind. Being alone with you for an extended period, in your personal space... It's dangerous territory, given his feelings. But he can't say no, not when you’re looking at him with the eyes of a vixen. "Of course," he hears himself say.

“Really!” You gawk in excitement, hugging him only briefly. “Ugh, where have you been since I moved into this place!”

“I don’t know…when did you move in?” He childishly muttered.

You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest which he rubs onto delicately after with a pout. “I’ll help you, of course, and you’ll be out of here in no time!”

As you begin to skim over the directions, oblivious to his inner turmoil, Wooyoung takes a deep breath, stilling himself. "Alright, let's do this."

…

The next few hours are spent reading a complex manual the team deciphers with experiments- and oftentimes- chatting breaks that could’ve been replaced with work being done.

As the two of you build, your dynamic of ‘partners’ begins to shift. You laugh together at each other’s frustrations, your shoulders brush as you lean over the instructions. Wooyoung finds himself relaxing, his earlier anxiety replaced by a comfortable camaraderie.

Until...

"Okay, now we need to attach this to the post."

You stand above the mattress to hold each piece in place while Wooyoung reaches around to the front of you to secure it with the provided hardware.

Again, experimentation is the most convenient strategy- well… more to one party than the other. As your bodies press close, his chest connects to your back. His breath catches at the contact. He fumbles with the screwdriver, his hands suddenly become clumsy and the nail unscrews itself from the hole. "Shit… sorry.”, he whispers.

“Don’t fret”, you gleam, “just screw it in a bit more.” You assist him as you tip your head back against his shoulder, giving him better access to properly screw into the hole. "Here, like this," you say. Wooyoung swallows hard, his throat crumbled dry. He can feel your breath, warmth brushing against his neck. He pushes to focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the distraction you unknowingly present.

He's hyper-aware of every inch of your body against his. He finally gets the screw tightened, then pulls back abruptly, as it doesn’t screw in any tighter. "There”, he breathed out in relief.

You squeal in excitement, jumping down from your bed. “Holy shit…we’re finally done, and it looks exactly like the picture on the box!”

Wooyoung nods, climbing down and trying to regain his composure. The bed stands proudly in the center of the room, its canopy draped along the edges so sinfully. "It looks great," he manages to say, his voice a bit hoarse.

An adrenaline rush pulses through your core as you jump to lightly bounce on the mattress, zooming to every corner.

Wooyoung laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. "Hey get down, don’t erase our hard work!" he says teasingly. You walk down to the foot of the bed where he stood, towering over him in an effortless and poweress stance, poking out your tongue with a silly expression.

He avoids looking at you after you bounce away, afraid his feelings might be written all over his face. "Well, I suppose your zoomies mean that my work is done. I should probably go.”

His discern punches guilt into your chest. His energy couldn’t equate to match yours right now, and it’s all because he took on the weight of putting the pieces together. “Wooyoung wait!”

He turns hesitantly in the door frame, watching as you hop down from the newly built bed. "Thank you…for today. I couldn't have done it without you." You bite your lower lip, dithering to say…"Stay for dinner?"

It's a recipe for disaster. But he can't bring himself to say no.

Wooyoung's heart skips a beat at the invitation. He wants to stay, and he wants to spend more time with you. But he knows it's a bad idea, and that he needs to set boundaries for himself. He opens his mouth to decline, but the words stick in his throat. "Okay," he hears himself say instead.

“Great! And then you’ll be on your way home, I promise!”

Wooyoung forces a smile, nodding in agreement. He follows you to the kitchen, his mind racing. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't seem to help himself. As you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge, he offers to help, hoping the distraction will keep his feelings at bay.

He watches as you bustle around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients, and humming under your breath. Every now and again you’ll point to a spot in the kitchen for an ingredient and he’ll fetch it for you like a puppy.

And boy did his tail wag at every command.

…

“Okay, that’s enough now” you direct in a monotone voice. “Just give it to me Wooyoung.”

He looks up from the cutting board, his eyes meeting yours. You’re leaning against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest. Your gaze is intense, and your expression is unreadable. "What?", he asks voice barely above a whisper.

“The veggies!”, you vigorously point, “you’re gonna cut them too small!”

"Oh," he says, his voice coming out choked. He quickly moves the cutting board out of his reach, his hands shaking slightly.

You push off from the counter and move closer to him, your movements careful and deliberate. "Here, let me," you say in your more homely voice.

He steps aside, his heart pounding in his chest. He watches as you finish chopping the vegetables, your hands sure and steady.

As you work, Wooyoung can't help but stare at you. The way your hair cascades near your back, the curve of your waist, the strength in your arms. He's so caught up in admiring you that he doesn't realize you're finished until you turn back in his direction. "There”, you whisper with a satisfactory smile, "dinner should be ready in another ten minutes.”

"Great," his voice sounding strained even to his ears. He clears his throat from the itchiness, "Is there anything else I can do to help?" He's desperate for a distraction, anything to keep his mind off the way his body is reacting to your proximity.

“No, you’ve done enough. If it makes you feel better I can just give you a bite to go.” You turn to him as you mix around the ingredients from sticking at the bottom of the pot. Slightly worried about his oddly anxious nature.

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Wooyoung trails off, unsure how to finish. He's just what? In love with you? Desperately attracted to you? Terrified that you might notice the way he's been looking at you?

You sigh, slowly walking up to him and touching his shoulder. “You're overthinking too much, and you’re probably pushing your body beyond what it can bear Wooyoung. Lay on the couch for a bit, I’ll bring dinner to you.”

In coerced agreement, he nods, relief washing over him at your touch. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling like he's teetering on the edge of a precipice. He turns and walks to the couch, sitting down heavily. As he lays back, he closes his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. “Get your shit together man,” he whispers amongst himself.

You enter the living room minutes later, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of your homemade chicken and vegetable stir fry, a side of steamed jasmine rice, and a glass of water. You set it down on the coffee table in front of Wooyoung.

“You wanna sit up so you can properly put some fuel in your body?” Wooyoung sits up, his eyes fixed on you. The way you lean over to put the tray down causes your blouse to gap slightly, offering him a tantalizing hint of cleavage. He swallows hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

As Wooyoung starts to lean backward, you plump the throw pillows behind him, your fingers brushing against his shoulder. He stiffens at your touch, and you notice his reaction, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

The contact lingers for a moment, with your faces close. Wooyoung can smell your perfume, something light and floral that makes him want to bury his face in your neck. You blink, breaking the spell, and step back. "Eat up before it gets cold," you mutter in a slightly breathy voice.

He feels both unnerved and invigorated by you’s directness. It’s as if you stripped away some of the layers of polite distance that usually exist between you two, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.

You join him in eating and cars rev as they pass by now and again in the silence. You chew softly and grow more annoyed with Wooyoung's continuous acts of behavior. You thought the food would cheer him up but by the way he’s still scooching on the opposite ends of your couch- you know something’s up.

"You're being awfully quiet," you acknowledge, tearing the silence. "And you keep scooching away from me, so, let’s talk." you take a sip of your wine, your eyes narrowing as you study him.

He shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his hood collar as if it's suddenly too tight. "I, uh, I'm just not used to you being so... nurturing, I guess. It's throwing me off."

You laugh loudly, shaking your head in surprise. "Wow, not even a little bit subtle, huh?", you set your wine glass down and turn to face him fully. “Did I ruin your plans for today? I will grant you a free vacation day from work. I mean we’re already caught up with the progress we’re making.”

Wooyoung's shoulders relax, and he lets out a small laugh. "No, seriously, don’t bother. It's just... different. Unexpected. You're usually so... focused on work. Seeing you like this, taking care of me, it's...nice." He pauses, then adds quietly, "...a little scary." your eyebrows shoot up, a flicker of hurt crossing your face before you disclose your expression.

"Scary? Because I'm being nice to you?" your voice is carefully neutral, but there's an undercurrent of confusion and slight offense.

“I don’t know it feels…motherly?”

You throw your head back and laugh, a rich, throaty sound that fills the room. "Oh my goodness, Wooyoung. I'm 29, not 60. I think I can take care of you without having to be Mrs. Weilderman from next door."

Your laughter eases the tension, and Wooyoung feels his body unwinding. "Alright, alright, not motherly. Just... different. And I like it," he says, giving you a small smile. He takes a deep breath and continues, “Maybe even more than I should." He pauses, looking down at his hands as he wrings them in his lap. "I think I might be um..."

“A mommas' boy?” you joke, tapping the shell of your elbow into his slender shoulders, causing him to rock right.

“I am my momma's boy,” he admits, “and I love her to death, so you can’t shame me.”

“Awwww how cute~ I don’t think I’ve seen you become such a sap. Looks like we’re both seeing different sides of another tonight.”

Wooyoung encircles his small face frame that holds a big package of handsomeness. “No shame.” You giggle, swiveling your wine before tossing back the remaining liquid.“But, there’s this other thing. I can’t find the word for it, but it’s like this feeling of me just… naturally wanting to do anything for you. It never feels forced on the job.”

“Awe, well aren’t you perfect for employee of the month.” You sigh contentedly and ponder his heartfelt confessions. “Okay…” you nod, “let’s try, devoted? Indebted? Grateful?”

Hiss eyes flick over your face, he tilts his head like a lost puppy, shaking his head when the words just didn’t hit a ring in him. “No? Naturally, doing anything…for me? Without feeling forced…

“Submissive?” you whisper, looking down in shock from the slip before you look back up at him.

Wooyoung's head snaps up, his eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear. "How did you...?"

“Oh…”

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I mean it’s only natural! As your..subordinate."

You grin mischievously, your eyes gleaming with amusement. "I mean it is a bit of a shock, but we can talk about it.” you lean forward, poking him playfully in the chest. He reaches up to rub over the area, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “You were a bit like this the other night. I think you said something about scaring me off?”

Wooyoung chuckles nervously, looking back at you. “I guess I just... I just wanted you to see me as more than just your subordinate. And I guess this is me ruining my chances.”

“I guess that sort of depends on what you want then. You smooth a hand over his shoulders, trying to mimic the calming massages he gives you under stress. “We work pretty closely to where things are just natural between us now, it wouldn’t necessarily be ruined.”

Your words send a thrill through Wooyoung, and he bites his lip, his heart racing. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you might be thinking.

“Well… whatever it is that you're beating the bush around.”

Wooyoung's words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. He looks up at you, his eyes pleading, and his heart pounds like a bongo in his chest. “I want to serve you outside of the office, provide you relief from a shitty work day, and more beyond than just a back massage.”

“Tell me the about the- ‘and more’ ” You inch closer with dimly lit slender eyes and coax Wooyoung's shaky hands with your hot pink sharp stiletto nails.

He shudders as you's nails trace over his skin, his resolve weakening. "I... I want to worship every inch of you," he breathes, his voice trembling with barely contained desire. "To use all of me for your pleasure in ways you've never experienced before. I’d kiss the ground before you.”

You lean in completely and abruptly stop at his trembling dolly pink lips. “How about you shut the hell up, and kiss me now?

The sudden change in your demeanor sparks immediate action from Wooyoung. He leans in, burrowing his fingertips directly onto your scalp, pressing his hot lips to yours. The kiss starts chaste before growing more passionate.

As you pull apart, his eyes dilate at your lips as he whispers, "That's what I've wanted to do to you every time you've snapped at someone in a meeting.”

You chuckle, leaning upward to press your thumb over his wet lips. “That would’ve been a real power move hm? It would’ve given those uppity dipshits more of me to talk about.”

Wooyoung's heart races as he looks at you, taking in your amused expression. "Yeah, it would have gave them more to focus on than their egos." he agrees, his voice still breathless from their kiss. "But I think I'd prefer it if you saved all that fire for me. Just me." He reaches out to gently stroke your cheek.

“You like seeing me upset?”

“I thrive on it every day I come into the office.”

“You’ve never given me a reason to be upset...”

“That’s because all I want to do is please you."

He glances down at your collarbone slipped from your disheveled top, tracing it in memorization. “Your smile is always rewarding to me, especially when it’s directed to only me.”

Your eyes flick up to his while your hands become curious about his body. “So, this word for you…submissive.” You twiddle with the strings of his hood, pulling it as it scrunches around his venous- covered neck. "In what other ways did you want to explore that outside of the workplace again?”

“Well.. just as you would in the office…you make the rules Mrs.Hart.” He grabs onto your hand, conversing almost completely with his own.

Your expression softens briefly at Wooyoung's touch, but then your gaze hardens as you consider his words. You pull back slightly, your hesitation palpable. "That would be... complicated," you murmur, your voice laced with uncertainty. "My reputation, the company... if word got out..."

Wooyoung watches you stand and smooth out your clothes, your movements precise and calculated- disrupting the easy flow. He feels a flicker of confusion, wondering if he's misread the situation entirely. He sits in contemplation, his mind racing with possibilities, trying to understand what's going through your mind.

He swallows hard, his expression serious as he listens to your concerns. "I understand," he says softly, his hand dropping from her cheek to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And I don't want to put either of us in that situation."

Although his words were assuring, his anxiety betrays him, He decides to approach you cautiously, not wanting to ruin the progress you both made. He stands up and walks over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. He reaches out and gently takes your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

You breathe out softly and look upon your hand with his in-fitting connection. But then you let it go again. “I might’ve initiated things too quickly, and it isn’t your fault. I like you Wooyoung…maybe too much." You walk over toward the door, holding the handle as an indication of the next step that had to be taken. “Let’s dial this back and call it a night. I’ll see you at work?”

Wooyoung’s heart sinks slightly as you release his hand and step back, your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He looks at you, searching for your face for any sign of hope, but your expression is resolute. He gets up accordingly, meeting you at the door.

"I'll be heading home now, my boss is counting on me to be well-rested for tomorrow's meeting," He says with a small, forced smile. His eyes, however, betray his true emotions, flickering with a mix of hurt, confusion, and unfulfilled desire.

The door clicks and you breathe out a deep breath your face hardened to obtain.

”Business and pleasure, an easy recipe for disaster.”

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Episode 2

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