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roosterforme · 11 months ago

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Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust.

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause.

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio.

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight.

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation.

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?"

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face.

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox.

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand.

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand.

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you.

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite."

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning."

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you.

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him.

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked.

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it.

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning.

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all.

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps.

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties.

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars."

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest.

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile.

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin.

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

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Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing.

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

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The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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btsgotjams27 · 10 months ago

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things you didn't say | jjk

summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.

✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.

✨ read part one | read part two ✨

The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.

All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.

And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.

You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.

Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.

He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.

Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.

Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”

You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”

“The planters or the plants?”

He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”

“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them.

“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.

“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”

“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”

You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.

“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”

“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”

You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”

“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”

“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.

The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.

You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.”

Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”

He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.

You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”

“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”

A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.

“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.

“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.

Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”

Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”

You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.

“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.

Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.

“Let me take you home, at least.”

You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.

“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”

“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”

The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.

As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”

“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”

Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.

You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.

Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”

He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”

“Can I call or text you sometime?”

“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.

He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.

A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”

Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.

But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?

If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.

Cucumbers.

Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.

As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.

With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.

“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why’d you do that?”

Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”

“Deserve what?”

You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.

“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.

As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.

“Well, don’t.”

Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”

Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.

Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.

He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”

“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.

A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.

You 1:35 PM Define small.

Incoming Call Jungkook

“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”

“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”

It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.

“No, yeah, that’s fine.”

“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”

The big question is: will Josie be there?

A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.

Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”

You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”

“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.

You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”

“Cool! See you on Friday.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”

“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.

As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.

You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.

Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”

Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”

“Clearly.”

As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.

“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”

“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”

Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”

“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”

She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”

“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.

“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”

“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.

“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”

Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”

The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.

You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?

And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.

“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?

You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.

Things happen in life that don’t make sense.

Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.

“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.

“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”

The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.

You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.

Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.

The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.

Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.

You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.

“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.

“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?

“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”

You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!

You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”

Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.

Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.

The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.

Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.

You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.

Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.

“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.

“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.

“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”

The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.

“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”

You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”

“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.

“You should become a private chef or something.”

He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”

“I hate you.”

His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”

“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”

Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.

Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.

He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”

“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.

“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.

With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.

Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.

Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”

Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”

“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.

“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.

You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”

He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”

You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.

“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.

“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”

Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.

Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”

There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.

Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.

“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”

“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”

Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.

Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”

Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.

“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.

You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.

Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”

“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.

You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.

“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.

Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”

Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.

“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”

He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.

Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”

Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”

“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.

“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.

Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.

Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.

“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.

Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”

Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.

“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.

He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.

The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”

“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”

“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”

You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.

“Got a whole box ready for you.”

Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”

Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.

“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”

The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.

“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”

He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.

“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”

The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”

Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.

You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?

“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.

Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.

“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.

Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”

Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?

He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”

There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”

“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

If it was only that easy.

You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”

“I hate what I did to you—”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can.

“Then explain.”

Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”

Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.

“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”

The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.

Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”

“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”

A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.

Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.

“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.

“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.

He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”

You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”

“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.

“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”

He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”

“Until…?”

“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”

You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?

“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”

There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.

“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”

Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.

“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”

Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”

Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.

As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe.

Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”

Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”

Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”

“What’s that?”

His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.

A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.

“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”

You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.

And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #fic: things you didn't say

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kenjisatos · 6 months ago

Text

MSBY BLACK JACKALS READ THIRST TWEETS ! (ATSUMU EDITION)

second part of this series! i love to see more of this team <3

[sakusa version]

this fic features…

haikyuu timeskip!spoilers, highly suggestive content (as the title entails), inappropriate language, atsumu keeps getting violated by his teammates, i headcanon sakusa to be fluent in english (argue with the wall), genre: crack, some of these are actual tweets i found lol.

The videos begins with multiple flash shots of Atsumu screaming, Hinata and Bokuto bursting into laughter, and a clip of the camera zooming in on Sakusa’s disgusted face.

- cut scene -

“Hi, we’re the MSBY Black Jackals, and we’re here with Buzzfeed to read your thirst tweets.” The 4 of them say together.

Hinata drums on his chair, “Miyaaaaa Atsumuuuu edition!”

Atsumu smirks at the camera, “I know you’ve all been waiting for this.”

The cameraman speaks up, “Are you excited?”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically, “Hell yeah! I can take this like a champ, unlike Omi-Omi…”. He side eyes the outside hitter, who, in return, flips off the setter—but the video pixelates it for censorship.

Bokuto snorts, “That’s what she said…”

Atsumu chuckles and claps his hands together. “Let’s get started!”

- cut scene -

The crew tosses a phone to Atsumu. He catches it and clears his throat. “Alright, first one…”

“How can I transform into one of those cameras used for volleyball games? Oh to get that view of Miya Atsumu’s dick all up in front of me when he does his sexy low set.”

Atsumu chuckles, “I can practically see you drooling from here, user.”

Hinata wiggles his eyebrows and pretends to hit a spike, “It is a sexy set, Miya.”

Bokuto fakes an animalistic growling noise, “When you get down low and—“

“Oh please, why are we praising Miya for flashing the camera?” Sakusa cuts in.

Atsumu huffs, “I’m not flashing them on purpose!” He then turns to the camera and winks, “Unless you want me to…”

“Barf.”

“Shut yer trap, Omi-Omi!”

Hinata snickers, “Miya, your accent is slipping in…”

His voice is high pitched and whiny as he replies, “No, it’s n—!”, he clears his throat, his voice now two octaves deeper, “No, it’s not.”

Bokuto chuckles, slapping the setter on the back. Atsumu simply passes the phone to him to read the next tweet.

“Funny how I want to throw hands at Inarizaki Miya Atsumu, but at the same time, I want to throw my panties off for MSBY Miya Atsumu.”

Sakusa laughs, actually laughs, for the first time since they started the shoot. His rowdy companions slowly turn to him, eyes blown wide at the rare sight of their stoic teammate showing an ounce of amusement.

Sakusa’s laugh trails off, “Yeah…you were a piece of shit in high school.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were. Still are.”

Hinata tries to reassure the blond, “Don’t worry, Miya, I thought you were cool.”

Bokuto quips, “Hinata, I thought you couldn’t tell the difference between him and Osamu.”

Hinata’s eyes widen and Atsumu glares at the orange-head, “Seriously, Shoyo?”

Hinata waves his hands dismissively, “I-I-I…”

Atsumu sighs, “You guys keep distracting me! I’m supposed to be replying to these thirst tweets.”

Bokuto holds a hand to his heart, “We are sorry, your highness.”

Atsumu looks at the camera and smirks, “Keep your panties on, ladies. I like to do it with them on.”

Sakusa stares at Atsumu in disgust, the beginning scene of the video making its’ debut as the cameraman zooms in on Sakusa’s revolted expression.

“How do you do it with it on?” Bokuto thinks out loud.

Hinata responds, “I think he means it’s pulled to the side?”

Bokuto’s mouth turns into an animated ‘o’ shape, “Ohhh, or or or he—“

Their pr manager coughs loudly off screen. Sakusa gives their manager a grateful look, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

The other three pout as their conversation is cut short. Bokuto hands the phone to Hinata; he squints his eyes at the screen as he tries to make out the words. He begins to read:

“Have y’all seen Miya Atsumu? If that dick slap his thigh when he walk, I shall listen when he talk.”

Hinata laughs but continues, “The Twitter user reposted themselves saying ‘Sheesh.’ with 18 fucking android emojis.”

Bokuto leans closer to Hinata, “Ooh! Lemme see, lemme see.”

Atsumu grins smugly with his eyes closed in satisfaction, his hand coming up to run through his platinum hair.

Sakusa speaks up, “Stop posing for the edits.”

Atsumu seems to ignore Sakusa’s comment as he faces the camera. “Well in that case, I guess you’ll all be listening to me.”

Hinata snorts, “Proof?”

Bokuto guffaws while Hinata holds his laughter in behind a cheeky smile.

Atsumu’s cheeks flush red at his words, “I ain’t showing you nothin’!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, “Trust me, we’ve seen enough in the locker room.”

Bokuto hides behind Atsumu and holds his hands up a certain distance to insinuate the length of Atsumu’s…commodity.

Atsumu continues, practically flirting with the camera, “But trust me y’all, it does, indeed, slap.”

Hinata leans his elbow over Atsumu’s shoulder, “Yeah and so does he!”

The sound effect of a turntable skidding plays.

Atsumu flinches away from Hinata, “WHAT???”

Their pr manager stands up quickly from their seat, a horrified expression on their face; the threat of losing their job rushing in their head.

Bokuto is holding a hand over his mouth, the Buzzfeed crew members are exchanging nervous looks, even Sakusa has his eyes wide open.

Hinata realizes his mistake and freezes for a moment before he’s jumping and scuttling around in a panic.

“I-I-I MEAN HE SLAPS—NO, NOT LIKE SLAPS, LIKE SLAPS LIKE SLANG ‘YEAH THAT SHIT SLAPS’ KIND OF SLAP. NOT PHYSICAL ABUSE SLAP I—”, he exhales sharply, “I’M GONNA STOP TALKING NOW!!”

Sakusa snorts and covers his face with his hands, Bokuto has tears in his eyes from how hard he’s holding in his laughter, the MSBY pr manager sits back down, their pale face slowly regaining its color. Atsumu is left with what can only be described as a sea-sick expression, almost constipated. After a few seconds, he remembers how to speak and says:

“Shoyo…what the fuck.”

“I’M SORRY!”

Sakusa opens his palm up, he’s biting his lip to not let a chuckle escape. “Give me the phone, Hinata.”

Hinata wordlessly hands the phone over as Bokuto giggles and places both his hands on Hinata’s shoulders and jumps in place to brighten up the mood.

Atsumu finally laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Almost caught myself a scandal there.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Sakusa mutters as he scrolls to the next tweet he has to read.

“Miya is so fucking hot, I want that man to turn my legs into jello.”

Atsumu grins, “Well well well—“

Sakusa continues reading the tweet, “I’m talking about Miya Osamu btw, aka the better twin.”

Atsumu opens his eyes, “Huh??”

Sakusa snickers, “Finally a tweet I agree with.”

Bokuto raises his hand to cup around his lips and whispers to Hinata, “Here come the SakuSamu shippers…”

Hinata whispers back, “I thought they were called Omigiris…”

The camera crew turns to a very confused Atsumu, “We thought it would be funny to add an Osamu tweet” one of them says.

Atsumu scowls like a petulant child.

Hinata perks up, “Osamu is pretty sexy, ey? In his Onigiri Miya compression shirt too…”

Bokuto nods in agreement, “And that cap? Smash.”

Atsumu whines, “Guyssss, this is supposed to be about meeee!”

“Womp womp.”

“Omiii :(“

Sakusa gives the phone back to Atsumu, who pouts and sticks his tongue out before he grumbles, “Y’all love to bully me, huh? And here I thought we would have deep team bonding conversations.”

Sakusa quirks an eyebrow up, “…at a thirst tweets shoot?”

“It’s personal and vulnerable,” Hinata replies.

“The only vulnerable thing at risk here is my wellbeing,” Sakusa retorts.

Atsumu sighs as he grabs the phone from Sakusa. “I hope the next tweet makes me feel better…”, he mutters.

“I just know that if Miya Atsumu called me a real good boy, it would awaken something in me.”

Bokuto starts barking at that, “Yeah, it awakens that inner dog in me.”

“We are the Black Jackals.” Sakusa comments, matter-a-factly.

“Are they talking about that time you and Kageyama were at that youth camp?” Hinata asks.

Atsumu nods, “I believe so.”

“Then how do they know you said that…?”

Sakusa responds amusedly, “Knowing Tobio, he probably tweeted about it. That man hates Miya.”

Atsumu defends himself, “Hey now, hate is a strong word. Tobio-kun is just jealous that I’m Shoyo’s setter.”

Bokuto, once again, leans in closer to Hinata to whisper, “Here come the KageHina and AtsuHina shippers…”

Atsumu stares right at the camera with a smoldering expression, “User, you’re being a real good boy…”

Bokuto barks again. The video adds a sound effect that makes it sound like a chorus of Bokutos are barking all around.

Atsumu laughs and passes the phone to Bokuto.

“Someone on here said the English equivalent to Miya Atsumu’s Kansai dialect is a country accent. Well then, call me a cowboy the way I’d be riding that man till the break of dawn. #SaveAHorseRideACowboy”

The video adds a cowboy hat and lasso to Atsumu, who pretends to be on a horse. His voice is much deeper as he says, “Yeehaw~”

“Oooh we have international fans!” Hinata speaks excitedly.

Bokuto’s eyes light up at Hinata’s comment, “Oooh, Omi-kun, say something to them!”

Sakusa squints his eyes and raises an eyebrow, “What do you want me to say?”

Atsumu jumps in, “Tell them I’d be happy to let them have a go at this rodeo ride.” He clicks his tongue with a wink.

Sakusa sighs then looks directly at the camera, and says the following in perfect English: “I hope your taste in men improves from what it is now. My condolences.”

Atsumu smiles, completely oblivious to the insult. “Thanks, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa smiles, an evil little smile. “My pleasure.”

- cut scene -

Atsumu tosses the phone back to the crew, “And that was it! I thoroughly enjoyed the ego boost, minus the parts when the team bullied me.”

“You were a good sport, Miya.” Hinata tells him.

“Thanks, Shoyo. And you’re a horrible speaker.”

Hinata’s face burns scarlet again at the reminder of his misfortunate wording earlier.

“2 out of 4 completed!”, Bokuto exclaims.

“Yes, we’re so close to being done.” Sakusa says, though he looks way too happy and relieved.

“More coming your way!” Hinata adds.

“Stay tuned~” Atsumu points at the camera.

“We’re the MSBY Black Jackals, goodbye!”

kenjisatos

🏷️ @dervngedgf

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loomiseater · 6 months ago

Text

Quicke

warnings: smut ofc!, handcuffs, public sex, breeding kink if u squint, and first person.

Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.

A/N: I did not proofread this shit💀.

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

request page

masterlist

Written: September 2nd, 2023

Published: June 15th, 2024

Summary: Your husband wants a quickie.

Wc: 697

“Just a quickie, please baby?” He whined while dragging me into the bathroom. “No you have to do your work and I don’t wanna interrupt that” I explained trying to get away but he pushed me back to the counter. “Patrol can wait. I’m stressed and I need my wife’s pussy to calm me down” he said as I let out a laugh. “You are so unserious” I said as he rolled his eyes.

“And why would you wear a sundress? You know I can’t control myself whenever you wear those” he said while gripping my ass as I tried to hold in my moans. “You gonna let me get a nut or what?” He asked as I sighed and rolled my eyes.

“Fine” I said as he excitedly turned me around. He pulled my dress up and slapped my ass as I squealed. “Babe that hurt!” I complained. “No panties?” He asked while gripping my hair. “You gonna arrest me officer Bradford?” I teasingly asked as put the handcuffs on me.

“I’m gonna do more than that” he said while taking his belt off and pulling his pants down. “I love when you fuck me in your uniform” I said. “Oh yeah?” He asked while giving me a smirk. He shoved himself in me with no warning as covered my mouth with his hands. “Fuck you feel so good” he moaned as he was pounding into me. All you heard was the sounds of our skin clapping and Tim grunting here and there. “Your dick is too big!” I whispered yelled as he chuckled.

“I know baby but you can take it” he said as he angled his thrusts deeper. “Yes!” I shouted as he slapped my ass and started thrusting into me even faster. “Shut the hell up you’re gonna get us caught!” He said into my ear. “Fuckkk baby” I moaned as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “Mhhhm you’d look so sexy carrying my kids” he said as I felt him twitch inside of me signaling that he was close.

“Yeah? Fill my pussy up with your cum daddy” I said as he started grabbing my boobs while sloppily thrusting into me. I started fucking him back as he was trying to catch himself. “I wanna have all your kids officer Bradford” I said as I felt him cum inside of me. “Fuck I’m cumming” he moaned as his warm seed was dripping out of me. As he was coming down from his high he snaked his hands around the front of my waist and started rubbing my clit. “Timmmmm!” I moaned. “What baby?” He asked while sucking on my neck.

“I’m gonna cum” I said as I felt that feeling in my lower stomach. He unhand cuffed me as turned me around and got on his knees as he started lapping um my juices. “Shit!” I squealed as I was rubbing the back of his head. He pulled away and said “I’m gonna milk this pretty pussy” he said as he attached his mouth on my clit. The feeling was amazing. I pushed his head deeper as I felt his nose touching my clit and him sloppily eating me out.

I lost it and came all over his face. “There you go mamas, such a good girl” he said while rubbing my pussy as I squirted on his face and he was enjoying it. He was still eating me out as I was squirting. My whole body was shaking due to the euphoric feeling. He placed one last kiss on my clit and stood up and sloppily kissed me as I could taste me juices on his lips. “You should taste yourself more often” he said as I giggled.

“Tonight..I’m gonna run you hot a bath” I started while rubbing his shoulders as he hummed “Then I’m gonna cook you dinner and after that you’re in charge for the rest of the night” I said. “I like the sound of that” he said while smirking.

“You better be prepared because I’m gonna fuck this pussy all night” he said while placing a kiss on the top of my boobs.

#tim bradford #the rookie #tim bradford smut #therookiesmut #eric winter #police #smut #chenford

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bakugoustherapist · 3 months ago

Text

HOW THE GROUP WOULD BE IF THEY HAD A POPULAR S/O

[shoto, izuku, katsuki & ochako]

●Izuku Midoriya○

●At first, he would be curious. He would think it's because of good grades, quirk or even looks

○Though when he actually meets you...It's a whole different thing.

●You are the sweetest, smartest, and most hottest—He means beautiful being he has seen. Maybe he was exaggerating, he didn't care though.

○As soon as he sees you... He turns the other way. You can not tell me this boy won't be as nervous as shit.

●It took him THREE months to pull up his panties and finally make a move on you. Well, Iida and Ochako have to push him to you, but still. My boy tried.

○And when he heard you speak—He's not a creep—He knew that you were the one. Hold up. Yeah, that was right.

●Your first date with him was so cute. A cute little picnic. With the blanket and everything. Fashion taste updated from Momo. And food made from Katsuki Bakugou himself.

○Once you guys got comfortable and actually told people you're dating him—Since Izuku almost beat a guy for talking about you in the wrong way—Izuku started to feel sorry for you. Because how the hell do you have so many friends?! One, three, ten?! Next thing he knew, the whole school was at your table.

●You guys spare for dates. Nothing special. You beat him, and he beats you. Secretly, he goes soft on you. When you notice and tell him to stop, he continues.

○Though he didn't mind your popularity. He just wished to spend time with you. Just you and him. In the bathroom, makin—

★Bakugou Katsuki☆

★Boy does not give two fucks. He does not know you and never will. [Lies]

☆Though once he bumps into, he cussed you out. Call you a blind bitch, until he actually looks at you and then goes, 'Shit, you blind but fine.'

★I'm joking. Though it would actually take him a while to want to be with you and have feelings for you. The man only wants to be the number one hero and the strongest.

☆So, after a LONG while, you guys sat at the cafeteria with his arm around your shoulders. Suddenly, some scrawny boy comes up asking about some 'history tests?' MAN IF YOU DON—

★You told him that you would help him study later, but as soon as he leaves... Both you and Katsuki laugh loudly—Poor boy never had a chance.

☆Stealing you from your friend group—Whether it's to study, eat, or even chat. My man doesn't care. He is grabbing you for himself.

★He will brag about you, and he expects the same from you:

"S/O would have landed that punch."

"Kats would have cook the chicken perfectly."

"S/O would have gotten a 100 on the test."

"Kats could beat your ass."

"S/O would kill your ass."

☆He will hate that you're popular, but either way, he still gets his way.

♠︎Shoto Todoroki♧

♠︎Season one Shoto would wanna fight you. Like since you're so 'tuff' and shit, come fight him. Hot or not, put up those hands.

♧If you beat his ass... He loves you. Like he already has a ring and everything—That's his imagination—In reality, he's just on the ground gapping at you.

♠︎He wants to learn from you now. Get to you know you, maybe take you—He stops at the training part.

♧Takes my man till season three to finally confess—Mineta and Denku definitely hyped him up when he went to you at lunch.

♠︎You say, 'Yeah, you cute. I'll think about it.' But on the inside, you are squealing.

♧Your first date was at an ice rink. If you ever slipped or anything, my boy will catch you. You know what I'm saying? Like, arm around waist catch. And for some reason, people are in awe and start clapping??? I mean, you're both ho—

♠��Once you both get together and tell everyone, he gets a little jealous. I mean, why do you have ten boys asking to be your valentine????

♧He doesn't mind you're popularity, though like Izuku, he just wants you all by himself. Luckily, people respect his wishes and let you guys be a couple.

◆Ochako Uraraka◇ [my queen needs some recognition, cause she is fucking FINE—]

◆She would be curious about you when she heard the girls in her class talk about you. When she asks about you, it's a whole stalker page. Like, the girls know your age, height, favorite colour—Girl gets worried about you.

◇The way you guys met was when she caught you crying in the bathroom. Popularity is not everything. Like, there are hate comments, and some people always say, 'Oh, she's being dramatic. Ignore them!' It's hard to. Trust.

◆She immediately comforts you. And that's where it started. The wonderful friendship.

◇Let's get this straight, you fell first and she fell harder. End of discussion.

◆You confessed first with a classic bouquet of sunflowers and Ochako's favorite chocolate. She said yes—You guys kissed on the first date—

◇The date was just movie night. Though the theme was Classic Disney. So when she watched Jasmine and Aladin kiss, she was like—'Heh, would be funny if we kissed.'

◆After that, kisses were something natural in the relationship. Gifts, hugs, and even hand-holding were everything to Ochako.

◇Whenever the hate comments made you sad, Ochako was by your side in a second. Whether it's a villain, civilian, or even her friends—Who she will 'question' later—She has your back.

◆Ochako loves you for you. Not for your looks or quirk or popularity. She loves you.

#mha x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #ochako uraraka x reader

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starkeysprincess · 3 months ago

Note

I definitely see stepbro!rafe spoiling you with all the cute girly things you could ever want, of course including clothes, but he isn’t afraid to be absolutely heartless if he’s upset with you. Let me explain. I am a visionary so there’s details.😌

Ok so he calls you into his room, right? He’s got certain pieces from each outfit you’ve worn over the past week. He explains that since you enjoy his other punishments so much, he has to be more harsh, and these are all the things you’ve worn lately that he deems slutty. He picks up your loveshackfancy skirt you walked around showing the entire country club his ass in, rips it right in half. The for love and lemons milkmaid dress you wore to happy hour that had Topper and Kelce shifting in their seats, torn right down the front, buttons flying everywhere. and he keeps going as you’re standing there crying begging him to stop, until he gets to what might as well be the the Mona Lisa to you; your vintage pink Dior denim miniskirt that as far as you knew, was the last existing one in the world that you had went to the ends of to find.

It was also what you were wearing just last night during Rafe’s party when you were drunkenly dancing on top of the counter, flashing everybody within sight your bare cunt before Rafe hurled you over his shoulder and brought you upstairs to “put you to bed.” He was so beside himself, he told you you’d both deal with it the next day too, and now here you were, about to watch him destroy your most prized possession.

Within a split second you’re trying to run out the door and screaming for Ward, and he yanks you into him by your hair as he claps his hand over your mouth. “Will you shut the fuck up?” You obviously keep fighting and squirming until he turns you around “ALRIGHT ALRIGHT…look, kid, be quiet. I’m not gonna rip it. just don’t get me in trouble and I’ll buy you all new shit. Same stuff. Right now, yeah?” When you nod and sigh in relief he takes his hand off your mouth. You make him promise but he also makes you agree to take an extra punishment “otherwise I’ll rip the shit right in half and you can cry to my dad all you want” and you’re begging and pleading telling him you’ll do whatever he wants, just spare your precious skirt.

“Okay,” He’d say. “Well then you better pray to Dior himself that you can handle an hour of this tonight while everyone’s sleeping” smirking and pulling a magic wand out of his night table. “Fight with me and it’ll be til fuckin’ morning.” All you can do is stare in dread.

nonnie, thank you for being a visionary 🙏🏽

his mean ass would pull this shit and when you’re starting to cry because those are all of your favorite pieces, his dick is twitching in his pants but as soon as you’re trying to run out the room to yell for ward, he’s yanking you back into the room, his chest pressed against your back and covering your mouth, telling you to shut the fuck up

telling him you’ll do whatever he wants is practically fucking music to his ears because that’s exactly what he was hoping you’d say and you know you’re in for it when he pulls out the magic wand, goosebumps littering your skin from the last time he used it on you

#𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 ✶ ࣪˖࿐#꒰ — anon ♡︎ ꒱#rafe prompt ;༊#stepbro!rafe

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the-froschamethyst4 · 4 months ago

Text

Texas Rodeo

𖤐Pairing: Cowboy! Alejandro x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut, fluff, language, dirty talking, P in V, kissing/making out, dangerous acts, groping, semi-public sex(?), Car sex, fingering, hand job,

𖤐Summary: Alejandro took his wife to her first Rodeo

————

"Love you look so gorgeous," Alejandro say, coming up behind Y/n as she was getting ready in the bathroom.

"Is this appropriate for a rodeo?" She asks, looking at herself in the mirror.

"Oh yeah, mami, just perfect." He says, with a smirk on his face. She was in a light sage green summer dress, dark brown cowgirl boots, a matching cowgirl hat, and some silver jewelry.

"Should I pack some flats in case my feet hurt?"

"Yeah, I would take your flats, mami," he says, he moves her hair off the back of her neck and started kissing the back of her neck.

They both walked out of the bathroom and she takes some flats and placed them into her purse. Alejandro grabbed his keys and waited by the front door for Y/n, as she gathered what else she needed.

"Okay, I'm ready," she says, walking to him and taking his hand. They walked out of the house and he opened the passenger door of the truck letting her get in and shutting it when she was comfortable in the seat.

Alejandro started up his truck and left the driveway, one hand on the wheel and the other rested on her thigh.

---------

Alejandro opened the passenger door taking her hand and helping her out of the truck. They walked hand in hand together walking to the ticket booth, he handed the tickets over and walked in, his arm then going over her shoulders holding her closer to his side.

Alejandro wanted to go watch the rodeo but Y/n wanted a stuff animal from one of the venders doing kiddy games at the rodeo, she stops at the bottle toss, you know the game where it's rigged with small rings having to be tossed around the neck of a bottle.

Alejandro was the best at these sort of games, he knows the secrets to most of these games, and beating the bottle toss was just nothing to him and he could win it in those three tries.

"Alejandro, I want the cow," she says, pointing to the highland cow plushie.

"Sure, mami," Alejandro gave the vender some money and within seconds got all three rings on different bottles.

"You get to win a big prize. What would you like?" The vender asks.

"The highland cow," Alejandro pointed to the cow and the vender got it and gave it to Y/n. She smiled and hugged Alejandro's side.

"Thank you, babe," she says, kissing his jawline.

"No problem, anything for you," he says, kissing the top of her head. His arm was around her shoulders as they walked into the rodeo. The first act going on was the ladies doing Barrel Racing.

They found some seats and sat down Y/n hugged the stuffed cow between her arms as she watches the ladies and their horses. Alejandro leans back his arm behind her back.

Alejandro looks at Y/n seeing her dress had raised up a bit as she had sat down, he smiled at her and moved his hand to the helm of her skirt.

"What? Is something wrong?" She asks, turning to him.

"No, you just look perfect," he says.

Alejandro sits up and pulls her close to his side.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Texas Rodeo, today we have some very talented bull riders! Please Welcome in our boys-"

Alejandro clapped his hands and Y/n's stomach was growling.

"Alejandro, I'm hungry," she says, pulling at his dark gray t-shirt.

"Okay...here..." He hands her 30 bucks. "Get me something as well."

"You don't wanna come?"

"Nah, I wanna watch Jackson Crumb," he says. "I'll still be here, when you get back."

"Okay then, but you're watching him," she placed her cow plushie in his lap and walks off.

She looks around on where she should go. Corndogs? Nachos? Hamburgers? Fired things? Greasy shit? She doesn't know, what to get?

"Nachos it is," she walks to the vender asking for normal nachos and then one that is spicy, chips, cheese and cut up jalapenos for Alejandro, he likes hot and spicy things.

"Thanks," she says, giving the vender the money and headed back to the rodeo, seeing Alejandro still in the same spot, her cow plushie saving her spot and she excused herself trying to pass people and get back to Alejandro.

Most of them were nice older men and the others were obnoxious hicks making Y/n walk over their legs instead of them getting up and letting her pass. Once she makes it to Alejandro she gives him the spicy nachos.

"Thanks, amor," he says, kissing her temple.

"I couldn't think of anything, so nachos was the only decent choice."

"I understand, thanks again," he says as they both ate.

-----------

Alejandro leaned back in his seat after the rodeo was finished now him and his wife were just getting ready to leave and walk around and play some games.

Alejandro looks at Y/n as she walks in front of him, she starts looking at other games they both could play together.

But there was something else Alejandro wanted to do. Every now and then wind will come and slightly move the bottom of Y/n's dress slightly exposing her underwear. She pushed the bottom of her dress down.

"Amor, come here," he takes her arm and pulls her to the family bathroom.

"Alejandro, hang on I don't need to-," before she could finish she was pushed into the bathroom and the door locked behind her.

"Please hush," he says, walking up to her and cupping her face and started to kiss her lips, his tongue being pushed past her lips, his tongue was dominate. He picks her up and placed her on the sink, standing between her legs.

He pushed the bottom of her dress up exposing her cute pink panties. He starts messing with his belt and Y/n helped him, fishing out his dick giving him a few pumps, he moans against her lips.

He moves his hands from her thighs and move them to her panties pulling them to the side and pushing his middle and ring finger inside of her.

"AH~ Fuck," she moans against his lips.

"Go faster, amor, I can handle it," he mumbles against her lips. She does what he says, pumping a bit quicker, her thumb going over his tip.

As she started to move quicker so did Alejandro's fingers, pumping quickly in and out her lower half. She moans and wants to close her thighs. Alejandro muffled her moans by kissing her lips.

"Calm down, mi amor, I don't want people hearing you just yet," he whispers to her.

"S-Sorry," she moans.

Alejandro moves away from her and bends down to see her wet pussy, he smirks and pulls her panties off her lower half. He stuffs them in his back pocket and pulls her off the sink.

"I'm keeping these till farther notice," he teases.

"Alejandro," she groans. Moving her thighs together because of the sudden coldness against her pussy. "Fuck," she moves her plushie over her front, she felt embarrassed that her panties were gone.

"Come on, amor," Alejandro opens the door letting her out first, he fixed the bottom of her dress to cover her ass completely, his arm goes around her shoulders and they acted like nothing had happened in the bathroom.

Y/n kept walking in a funny way but soon stopped and Alejandro noticed.

"Wanna ride the mechanical bull?"

"Are you crazy? Do you want me hanging out there?" She says, playfully smacking his chest.

"Fine, I will then," he says with a smirk.

Alejandro gets in line handing the guy some money and getting on the back of the bull, once the bully starts Y/n watches intensely at how he moves on the bull, watching his hips buck back and forth as well. Alejandro was soon through off it and he stood up and walked off the float and headed back to Y/n.

"How many seconds?" He asks.

"4," she teases.

"4, huh? You know I can last longer," he teases back, she shut her mouth and hid her red face.

----------

Alejandro and Y/n walked around some more, Y/n's cold feeling between her legs was back. Her funny walk was also back, she felt uncomfortable and tried her best to hide it but it was hard.

Alejandro looked down at her, his hand going to her back and moving down giving her ass a nice and gentle squeeze.

"Amor, you're doing it again."

"I-I can't help it," she says, her face was red now, hiding it behind her cow plushie.

"Shall we go then?" He asks and without a second thought Y/n immediately nods her head wanting to go home.

Alejandro took his keys from his other back pocket and they walked back to the truck together.

----------

He unlocks the truck and Y/n beat him to the passenger door opening it and jumping inside the truck, Alejandro chuckles when watching the door slam shut. Alejandro gets in the driver side and starts the truck but doesn't leave.

"Alejandro please," Y/n begs, he turns his head and looks at her, he give her a smirk and pats his lap.

"Come on, amor...no one will see us," he has a smirk plastered on his face.

She whined, she placed the cow plushie in the floorboard and she unbuckles her seatbelt, climbing over the center consul and getting on Alejandro's lap.

"Make this fast."

"Oh no, mi amor, I will be taking my time with you," he smirks.

---------

The truck was rocking back and forth, the truck was filled with whimpers, moans, filthy words. Y/n's head was being held down by Alejandro's hand, fingers tangled into her hair, the other holding her waist, and her ass jiggling against his lower half.

"AH! AH!" She moans.

"Yell, mi amor, yell my name," He grunts.

With every hard thrust, he would grunt and hear Y/n moan. His thrusts were sloppy and were becoming uneven. Y/n's mouth had drool coming out of it and then she bit the leather of her husband's seat.

"A-Alejandro...I-I'm going t-to cum," she whines out. Alejandro just chuckles and keeps going faster. Alejandro moved the hand the was holding her head to his jean pocket in the passenger seat and pulls out her panties and stuffing the panties into her mouth to muffle her moans.

She let's out a moan and white, sticky, liquid leaks out of her lower half. Alejandro pulls out and watches cum leak from her, he pumps himself at the view of her leaking out. He let's out a groan before he felt his tip leak of cum.

"Fuck, amor," he moans, he leans forward taking the panties out of her mouth. "Shall we go home now?"

She just nods looking miserable and pleased and Alejandro just smirked at her, tapping her ass and getting their clothes back on before leaving.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro mw2 #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro cod #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

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Trailer park Steve AU part 17

part 1 | part 16 | ao3

Heat rolls through Steve’s gut; low and quick, a vicious flare, and then he coughs and looks away. “Jesus, man," he splutters, "learn to take a joke.”

“Mmm-hm.” Eddie's smug smirk spreads wide, grows teeth; gotcha bitch, and Steve’s about to tell him to fuck off when he claps his hands to his thighs and abruptly stands up. Does a big stretch, swinging his arms out side to side, reaching overhead until his back makes a noise like a twisted sheet of bubble wrap.

“Holy shit!” Steve frowns. “You’re gonna break your spine.”

Eddie gives him a flippant smile. “That's the idea. Anyway...” He pretzels himself up again, groaning as his neck and shoulders pop. “Seeing as we’re trapped in here for the foreseeable future, you wanna do what the little psychos asked? Play twenty questions or have a heart-to-heart or whatever?”

“Seriously? And just give them what they want?”

Eddie shrugs. “Seems like the fastest way out of here, so yeah.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Please. You negotiate with them all the time." He folds forward at the hips, looking at Steve upside down between his legs, and twists a curl around his pinky. "Those kids have you wrapped around their grubby little fingers."

"They do not!"

"They totally do. Besides," he swings back upright, "I’ll negotiate with anyone if it gets me back home to my girl.”

"Oh." Steve stumbles at that. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie laughs big and bright, shaking his hair all over the place. “Yeah, Harrington, I have a girlfriend. You're funny. Y'know, Henderson could have saved us a lot of time here if he'd just told me you were fun—”

“Okay, then who’s your girl?” Steve interrupts with a huff, because Eddie’s just hopping around in circles while he laughs like Steve's a fucking moron for making a totally reasonable assumption, and he doesn't understand what's so goddamn funny about it.

“My girl, Harrington,” he all but coos when he collects himself, “is my guitar.” He bites his lip and mimes playing a riff; Steve doesn’t know shit about guitar, but he knows that Eddie’s fingers are quick, nimble and impressive as they jitter through the air. “We’ve got a show this weekend. Like, a real one this time, not just playing to three drunks at the Hideout.”

“Cool,” Steve says, looking away from his rings. “Congrats, man. You any good?”

“You could say that.” Eddie’s mouth goes smug and pleased, genuine pride shining in his big eyes when he rocks back on his heels. “The frat that booked us seems to think so, anyway.”

“Oh, shit!" Now Steve's impressed, because it's the weekend before Halloween, and that means, "College costume party.”

“Of course you’d be excited about that.”

“Hey, great place to get laid,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie chokes on his own spit. “You’re kind of a slut, you know that?”

“Rude,” Steve says mildly. He's not a slut; he's an opportunist.

The ground's starting to hurt his ass, so he stands up to join Eddie's impromptu yoga session. Eddie leans a hip against the workbench, folding his arms over his chest and giving Steve room to move.

His eyes flit to his hemline when it rides up on a stretch. "Would you..." he clears his throat. "Would you want to come?"

"Huh?" Steve twists around.

"To the show," Eddie adds, ducking his head to hide his face behind his hair. "You'd have to cram into the back with Frankie and the drum kit, but uh..."

Steve lets himself picture it for a moment, some alternate dimension where he's allowed to say yes: the winding highway to Indy, a van full of dudes cracking jokes and fighting over who gets to pick the music next, losing himself in the thrum of a crowd while he drinks and dances and watches Eddie on stage.

His throat feels tight, suddenly. He reaches for the flask and takes another sip of whiskey. "Don't all your bandmates hate me?"

"I mean... not any more than I do." Eddie's answer is quiet, his eyes swimming with candlelight; Steve doesn't know when they moved closer, when a hush settled over the room, but it feels like...

"Yeah?" he hedges, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he steps out onto the ledge; icy cliffside, slippery holds. The mountains are so much scarier than the deep sea. "And how... How much is that?"

His pulse kicks in his chest. Echoes down to his wrist, a nervous current beneath his skin. Eddie's eyes are so soft. Big and brown and dark. Dark like the deep woods; endless; sort of mesmerizing.

"Steve, I—"

The cellar doors shriek on their hinges.

—

part 18

part of the tag list below the cut comment if you want to be added (comment twice if you wanna be my tag manager lol i’m dyin)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

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justagalwhowrites · 18 days ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 5: Fracture

You and Joel try to find a balance in your relationship in Los Angeles. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Very mild violence. Masturbation. Description of porn. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 14.3k (IDFK what my problem is)

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“Hey, Big Miller!” Tanya yelled toward her living room, wine glass clutched precariously in her grasp.

“Shhh!” You clamped your hand over Tanya’s mouth as she practically cackled. “Will you cool it?”

She shoved you away playfully.

“We need a camera man,” she said. “And I don’t think he’s busy.”

“Can’t we ask one of your security guards?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t think they’re busy, either.”

“Yes but my security guards aren’t eye candy,” she replied, almost smug. “And they’re in the guard shack. So the obvious choice is… Oh, hello Big Miller.”

Tanya winked at you and you turned to find a surly Joel standing in her massive kitchen, his arms crossed and a fed up look on his face.

“Can I help you.”

“Yes, actually,” she practically flounced over to him. “We are making a TikTok…”

“No,” Joel said.

“Oh, come on,” she waved him off. “You’re no fun!”

“Ain’t paid to be fun,” Joel said. “Now if you two aren’t running off somewhere crazy, think I’ll get back to…”

“We just need a camera man,” Tanya said, putting a hand in the middle of his back and guiding him further into her kitchen. “All you have to do is press record, hold the phone and press stop.”

Joel looked to you like he was asking for an out and, given the new, strangely kind balance to your relationship, you wished you could give him one.

But… you did need a camera man.

“Ellie wanted us to make a video,” you said and Joel sighed and held out his hand for Tanya’s phone, just like you knew he would as soon as you mentioned your niece.

Tanya squealed and clapped for a moment before walking him through what she wanted him to do.

“Alright,” he sighed as Tanya took her place next to you. “Let’s get this over with.”

Joel was a surprisingly good sport about the whole thing, stopping and starting the recording again and again as you and Tanya swapped places and did ridiculous looking dances and you couldn’t help but laugh when you were supposed to be standing still as your friend did her part.

“Thank you, Big Miller,” Tanya said, taking the phone back when the two of you couldn’t think of any other stupid dances to do. “We appreciate your contribution to our art.”

“Something tells me that isn’t going to win either of y’all one of those fancy trophies,” he said before looking to you. “Should leave soon. You’ve got early shit tomorrow.”

“So bossy,” Tanya winked at him. Joel rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s like that,” you smiled at him a little. “But we have to let him control what he can otherwise he gets grumpy.”

“Well I guess we do have to let the men be men occasionally,” she smiled at him again before looking to you. “Do I get to see you again this trip or no?”

“Probably not,” you said, scrunching your nose at that. “I’ve got more chemistry reads tomorrow morning, Kimmel in the afternoon, meetings in the evening, premiere the next day, flying home the day after that.”

“Ugh, home in Texas,” she made a face. “LA is way better.”

“I’m sorry, which of us has been on tour for the better part of a year?” You teased. “Not like you’re here for me to hang out with anyway.”

“Hey, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” she elbowed you lightly and you laughed before you both sighed. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you smiled a little. “You can always come visit in Texas, you know.”

“Might take you up on that,” she smiled back.

Tanya loaded you down with two dozen cookies before you left and you couldn’t help but smile a little as Joel drove the two of you back to your house.

“Thank you,” you said, looking over at him in the glow of the street lights. “For the TikTok thing, I mean.”

“Not the end of the world,” Joel shrugged. “Don’t understand it for shit but…”

You smiled a little and opened the cookie tin, holding it out to Joel, who glanced at it as he drove.

“C’mon,” you shook the tin at him, making the cookies inside rattle. “You know you want one.”

“Can’t believe you just go over to some pop star’s house to bake cookies,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing one, taking a bite and chewing for a moment. “And they’re fuckin’ good, too, that’s even worse…”

You just smirked, closing the tin with a satisfying snap, looking out the window as Joel drove you home.

It had been a strange few days since the lunch with Henry. You’d been busy - which you had expected, cramming weeks worth of meetings and outings into just a few days - and Joel had been a surprisingly comfortable companion for the whole of it.

He sat there, watching stoically from the corner as you read lines with the actors vying to be the romantic lead in Savage Starlight. He didn’t complain about the swarms of paparazzi and fans when you went to do interviews. He even kept whatever complaints he had to himself when you went for a fitting for your dress for the premiere and your stylist, Frank, dragged him in to get feedback from a man on the fit of your bodice.

“What was your name again, I’m sorry,” Frank asked as he stood there with his hands on your sides.

He sighed.

“Joel.”

“Joel,” Frank said. “Right. Well, Joel, since I’m pretty sure you’re straight given -“ he gestured toward Joel as a whole “- that, what do you think? Should we have it sit here…”

“Frank,” you said, half pleading, half knowing it was a lost cause. “Please leave him out of this…”

“Honey, if you won’t listen to me, listen to him,” he said, adjusting the bodice and turning his attention back to Joel. “Do you want to fuck her more with it here?”

He adjusted it again, making it so your breasts were higher, more ample. You sighed.

“Or here?” He said, looking at Joel. “Be honest.”

Joel’s eyes darted to you, wide and almost afraid.

“I… uh…”

“He doesn’t want to fuck me at all, Frank,” you said, rolling your eyes, your hands on your hips.

He rolled his back.

“Please, everyone wants to fuck you.”

“You don’t.”

“Yeah, that’s because I want to fuck him,” he jerked his head toward Joel.

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to tell Bill that,” you teased, barely holding back a smirk. “Tell him you’re out here…”

“Don’t you dare.”

“…checking out bodyguards…”

“Please don’t.”

“…causing problems…”

“Do you really think that paranoid old man could cope if he knew I was hanging out with that walking wet dream?” Frank asked, brows raised. “Please. For both our sakes, save me the fight and keep it to yourself and you,” he rounded on Joel. “Tell her the truth, that you want to fuck her more when the girls are higher.”

“Can you promise me I won’t have a nip slip on the red carpet if you shove my boobs up to the sky?” You said before Joel had a chance to stumble his way through another response. “Because Quinn might kill me if I do.”

“Do you really think I’d let that happen?” He asked, brows raised. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll put some pasties on the girls, that way if your tits find some way to defy the laws of physics - which, if anyone’s could, it’s yours - you’re not really flashing the whole world.”

“Very considerate,” you said wryly, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “Then sure, put my tits under my chin if that will bring you joy.”

“You’re my favorite client for a reason,” he said, going about pinning the dress into place and you bit back a smile as Joel stood there, his hands in his pockets as he stared determinedly off to the side his eyes darting back your way every half minute or so.

Joel had even been a pleasant presence at home. You’d FaceTimed Ellie the night before while you sat at your kitchen island with a glass of wine, just nodding along and listening to her talk about her day, trying not to dwell too much on the little mannerisms she had that reminded you of Anna. Joel came in - you weren’t sure why, his hand running absently over the granite counter before rapping his knuckles on it and Ellie spotted him then, perking up even more when she did.

“Hey, Big Miller!” She called in a sing-songy voice.

Joel came up behind you, tall and broad at your back, leaning down to get in the frame of the camera of your iPad.

“Hey Trouble,” he said, teasing Ellie with her own code name. “Been keeping your nose clean for your grandmother? Behaving for Seth?”

“No,” she smirked. “But remember that one debate I had coming up?”

“I do.”

“Well, I did it,” she said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “And I won.”

“You did?” He asked, pride in his voice. Ellie nodded eagerly. “Knew you could, that smart mouth of yours.”

“I kicked his ass,” she said happily.

“Was it that one kid?” Joel asked. “The asshole?”

“Yup,” Ellie beamed. “And I made him look like a fucking idiot.”

“Ellie!” You scolded.

“Sorry, Sissy,” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Joel. “Freaking idiot.”

Joel snorted.

“Good for you, kiddo,” he said. “Knew you could do it.”

Once you finished up the call with Ellie, you went and found Joel. He’d taken to spending time by the pool since the night he’d found you there. Sometimes he had a book, sometimes he just watched the water, his hands folded between his knees looking like he was lost in thought. He was there then, too, watching the water this time with a bottle of beer at his feet.

“Hey,” you said, knowing better than to approach him silently.

He looked back over his shoulder to you.

“Hey,” he said before looking back at the water.

You came and sat next to him, watching the light ripple in silence for a moment.

“Think Ellie misses you,” you said, glancing to him as you did. He just grunted. “It sounds like she talks with you…”

“We got time when I take her to school,” Joel said, almost defensively.

“I know,” you said quickly, gently. “I just… I appreciate it. You being nice to her, I mean.”

“Oh,” he said.

“She needs that,” you continued. “Her dad was never in her life, it was always just her mom, Elise and me and now… She needs as many people as she can to care about her. She’s been through a lot. I’m glad she has someone else she can talk to like that.”

“She’s a good kid,” Joel said, staring at the water. “Don’t mind.”

You nodded silently.

“Puns are awful though,” he said after a moment, smiling ever so slightly.

You laughed.

“God, they really are,” you said. “She has a book of them.”

He looked at you then.

“Who the hell’s idea was that?” He asked.

You laughed again.

“She picked it up at school a few years ago, one of those book fair things. I think she memorized it.”

“Jesus,” Joel laughed and then sighed. “Guess we’ll never be free of ‘em.”

“No,” you smiled a little. “Guess we won’t.”

It had become a strange balance. Not quite friends, not quite… whatever you’d been before. Some odd middle ground where you cared what he thought and found a disorienting comfort in his presence without the kindness of any affection.

Your phone lit up, a link from Tanya. You followed it and watched the video on TikTok, posted for not even five minutes and already thousands of likes. You smiled at it, the look on your own face as you tried not to laugh at your friend’s ridiculous dance moves and your own clumsy, erratic movements when it was your turn funnier than you’d realized.

“That the video?” Joel asked as you sat at a red light.

“Yeah,” you said, holding the phone out to him just as it looped. He watched for a moment, an almost serious expression on his face before it seemed like he was biting back a smile, shaking his head a little. You laughed. “You liked it!”

“I don’t really get it,” he said, giving you a look before the light turned green and he started driving again. “But… yeah, alright, it was kinda funny. Didn’t think you celebrities really did that kind of shit, though.”

“Why not?” You asked, going to repost the video on your own feed and texting Quinn to tell her that you had so she wasn’t caught off guard by it.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just… seems like it’s beneath you.”

You frowned a little.

“You do realize we’re just people, right?” You said. “We just happen to do jobs that make us famous.”

“I know,” Joel said. “Still. Feels weird.”

You laughed a little at that. Yeah, fame was weird.

“Ellie seen the video yet?” He asked, glancing your way quickly.

“She’d better be in bed,” you said. “It’s almost 2 a.m. in Texas. But I’ll send it to her in the morning.”

“She do one, too?” Joel asked.

“She did,” you said, smiling a little and going to Ellie’s TikTok - which you’d insisted be locked down to hell and back so paparazzi couldn’t take advantage of it - and pulling up the video. Joel parked in your driveway and you handed him your phone, pressing play for him and watched as he smiled a little as Ellie and her friend Dina did different crazy dances in a classroom at school to the same song you had.

“Looks like she’s makin’ friends,�� Joel said, giving you back your phone. He didn’t wait for a response, getting out of the car. You sat and waited patiently for him to come to your side of the car - a safety protocol that felt excessive but you went with it - before getting out yourself. “That’s good. Can be hard for kids that age now, especially at a new school.”

“Yeah,” you said, frowning slightly at him and biting your tongue. How would he know about kids that age? You weren’t sure of his exact age but you were pretty sure he was a few years older than you and it’s not like he had kids.

“Driver’ll be here early,” he said once you were both safely inside and you set the cookies down in the kitchen. “Any itinerary changes I should know about?”

“Nope,” you said. “Just going to be a busy day for me with a lot of sitting around for you. Might want to bring your book.”

“Be sure to keep myself entertained,” he said wryly, opening the tin and getting out another cookie.

You smiled.

“Goodnight, Big Miller.”

“Night, Siren.”

You brought a bag with you the next day.

You’d done enough shit like this in your time - days where you had to run from place to place at almost breakneck speed, places where you knew you’d be photographed to hell and back and others where you had some semblance of privacy and you knew you’d be desperate for some comfort - that you knew how to plan for it.

Joel sat up front with the driver, leaving you in the back seat alone and you sent the TikTok to Ellie, telling her you hoped she had a good day at school and that you were excited to see her in a few days. You took a few minutes to review the lines you were working with that day, making sure you were comfortable with the ones you’d be reading with the kids. You always remembered your first line readings with grown ups once you were actually old enough to fully understand what was going on, how some made you feel at ease and some made your stomach churn and skin crawl. You always wanted to be the comfortable person for these kids. You hadn’t worked with many children in adulthood but it always felt strange when you did, some twinge in you that made it seem like you were watching your younger self but not able to stop what was coming.

“Doomed by the narrative,” you muttered to yourself, skimming the lines of the girl who would play your childhood self.

“Hm?” Joel said back over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” you said, locking the iPad as the car pulled up to the studio gate. “Just running lines.”

There were four kids you were reading with but one that you’d been told was the favorite and she was reading last.

All the kids were talented, you’d give them that. Of course, they had to be to make it this far. They were all 10 to 12 years old, all excited to be there, all somewhat accustomed to this life already. But you posed for pictures with them anyway - the photos going on their agents’ phones so they couldn’t post them before they were allowed to - and performed your lines in all the different ways the casting director asked.

Eventually, the last girl came in, a sense of nervous, almost frantic energy pouring off of her, something that seemed so far away but so familiar from your childhood.

“Can I see her resume?” You asked the casting director quietly as the production assistant went over things with the girl.

“Sure,” she said, rifling through a small pile before handing it over. You reviewed it quickly and found what you expected - some commercial work, a three episode arc on a sitcom, no film. She was just 12 years old and new to this. You slid the resume back and went over to the girl who, you had to admit, looked a lot like you.

She was staring at you, her eyes a little wide and you tried not to laugh. Instead, you smiled and held out your hand, introducing yourself.

“Yeah,” she said, a little awed. “I know.”

“Thought you might,” you smiled a little wider. “What’s your name?”

“Catherine,” she said. “Catherine Ford.”

“It’s nice to meet you Catherine,” you said. “Want to run some lines with me, see how we do?”

She nodded quickly and you showed her where to stand in front of the camera that was capturing your line reads for the director to watch later.

“Let’s go from from the top,” the casting director said, giving you a nod. “Get us started.”

You just nodded and found the character quickly, falling into her headspace, making your eyes meet the girl who was yourself.

“Who are you?” You asked, a panicky edge to your voice.

“Don’t you know?” She asked in response, cocking her head slightly to match your own. “I’m you.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you’re not real, you…”

“I am,” she said, all calm and wise. “I’m you and I know that you… I… crud…”

Her face scrunched and she looked down to the paper in her hands.

“Keep going,” the casting director said to you. “Lead her in.”

You nodded, taking a moment to reset and looking at Catherine.

“That’s not possible,” you said again. “You’re not real, you…”

“Don’t you know?” She said and then her face fell. “Crap, I’m sorry!”

“It’s OK,” you smiled gently. “Want to go again?”

“Is that OK?” She asked. You just nodded and she sighed. “OK, cool. I’ll get it this time!”

“From ‘that’s not possible,’ please,” the casting director said and you obeyed, but Catherine missed her cue to cut in that time, freezing in the moment and then looking like she was about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I promise, I know my lines, I was up so late practicing, I won’t mess up like this if you actually cast me, I…”

The casting director got up but you held out a hand, keeping her where she was.

“Catherine?” You cut her off before she had a full blown panic attack. “It’s OK. Did you warm up before you came in today?”

“No,” she sniffled a little. “No, I should have, and…”

“Hey, I’m not criticizing you,” you smiled gently. “Even if you had, it’s probably been long enough since you left your house that it wouldn’t make a difference now anyway. Why don’t we take a minute, warm up, then try again. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“OK,” you said. “Any warm ups you really like?”

“Um,” she thought for a second. “To sit in solemn silence? Do you know that one?”

You smiled a little wider.

“Good pick,” you said. “One of my favorites. Want to start or do you want me to?”

“Can you?” She asked. “I never have to…”

“Of course,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Ready? To sit in solemn silence on a dull, dark dock…”

You did a few warm ups with her, helping her loosen up and get relaxed before you got set to go again, tension coming back into her small shoulders as she got set for the next try.

“Hey,” you said gently. Her eyes met yours. “It’s OK. Just you and me, two actors doing our thing, OK?”

She smiled a little at that.

“OK.”

She seemed to take that to heart, hitting every word that time, the two of you falling into that rare space where you felt truly connected, that you were inhabiting these characters, building tension, pulling these feelings from each other and laying them bare. It was a space that was hard to find, you couldn’t do it with every actor, and this 12-year-old girl had managed it.

The room was silent for a moment when the scene wrapped but then the casting director clapped, you and Catherine both turning to look at her, Catherine beaming.

“Beautiful,” she said. “That was great, really really great.”

The two of you did a few other scenes, Catherine finding her groove more and more each time and you couldn’t help but marvel at her talent. She had raw skill that many of your contemporaries would kill for, skill that she’d only hone over time. She was going to be an incredible actor if this industry didn’t destroy her first.

“Who brought you here today?” You asked Catherine when the read was over, the casting director already talking conspiratorially with her assistant.

“My mom,” she said. “She’s in the waiting room.”

“Can I meet her?” You asked.

“Yeah!” She said eagerly. “She’d love that!”

You flagged Joel down from his spot in the corner and followed her there, her mom jumping up when she saw her come through the door.

“Hey kiddo!” She said excitedly, hugging her daughter. “How’d it go?”

She noticed you then, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m…”

“I know,” she cut you off, her eyes still wide but going somehow wider. “Oh my God, that was probably so rude, I’m sorry!”

You laughed.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Honestly, if it didn’t make me feel like such a self-centered jerk, my life would probably be a lot easier if I just assumed everyone knew who I was. You’re Catherine’s mom?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Margie.”

“Hi Margie,” you said. “It’s good to meet you. Catherine is really incredible, you know.”

“I know,” Margie said, tugging her daughter against her side and giving her a squeeze. “Trust me, we wouldn’t even be trying this if she wasn’t. She just begged and begged for years and eventually it was so obvious she was so good that we should at least give it a shot.”

Catherine beamed at that and you smiled, the familiar pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you swallowed as you did. Her mother seemed nothing like your own.

“I took a look at her resume, looks like you’re pretty new?” You asked and Margie nodded. “Well, getting started is hard, there’s a lot to navigate. Can I see your phone?”

She all but dove into her pocket and unlocked it before handing it over.

You entered your number, saving it with your first name and last initial.

“Don’t share that around,” you said, giving Margie her phone back. “But if you need anything - anything at all - give me a call or a text. Alright?”

“We gotta go,” Joel said quietly behind you. “Cutting it close.”

You just nodded before turning to Catherine.

“It was really great working with you today,” you smiled.

“You too,” she said, smiling hugely.

“Looking forward to doing it again soon,” you said, giving her a hug and a wave before going back to the audition room. Your bag was in the corner and you grabbed it before going to the casting director.

“I want Catherine,” you said, already going through your bag for your makeup kit.

“She was very strong,” she replied. “But she had the shaky start and…”

“No,” you said, cutting her off. “She’s it. No one else came close. Not trying to tell you how to do your job but it’s Catherine. She’s just green but she’s young, she’ll get used to it quick. Trust me.”

She considered you for a moment.

“Alright,” she sighed eventually. “She was the top pick going into today but if we need to recast because she can’t hack it…”

“We won’t,” you said. “I’ll make sure she’s got what she needs.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll confirm with the director but we’ll get her.”

You got changed into something far less comfortable than the leggings and sweatshirt you’d been wearing but looked way better for TV - Frank putting together a pair of velvet wide-legged trousers and matching jacket with a mesh turtleneck - and did your makeup and hair as quickly as you could before rushing to the car, Joel on high alert any time you were outside.

“You were good with her,” he said once you were safely underway.

“Hm?”

“The girl,” Joel said, his voice gruff. “You were good with her. She was nervous, I could tell.”

“Oh,” you said, watching the back of his head in front of you, as if that would tell you anything about what he was thinking. “Yeah. I just remember what it was like to audition like that. It’s lot of pressure.”

“Can’t imagine doin’ that to a kid,” he said harshly. “Should get to just be a kid.”

“There’s a reason I don’t want Ellie growing up here,” you said, looking out the window at the city going by. “Don’t want her getting any ideas.”

The car pulled up to the theater, a hoard of people outside the doors waiting for you.

“Ready?” Joel asked over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting yours, something about the depth of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Ready,” you said.

He got out first and he tried to rush you through the crowd but you saw a little girl who had to be about seven or eight - wearing a t-shirt with the duck you’d voiced years ago, when Ellie was about her age - watching you with hopeful eyes.

“Hi there,” you smiled, getting down on her level. “What’s your name?”

“Parker,” she said, smiling hugely, one of her front teeth missing.

“Hi Parker,” you smiled back. “It’s so nice to meet you! I really like your shirt.”

“It’s my favorite movie!” She said excitedly.

“You have excellent taste,” you said with a wink. You nodded to the piece of paper clutched to her chest. “What do you have there?”

Her face lit up for a moment and she thrust the paper at you.

“It’s my drawing!” She said. “I did it myself!”

You took it and looked down at it, a childish, colored pencil version of the duck you’d played there on the page.

“Parker, this is so good!” You said, smiling at her. “You’re such a good artist! Is that what you’re in school for right now? Art? What college do you go to?”

“I don’t go to college!” She laughed.

“You don’t!” You gasped in mock surprise. “What! How old are you? 20? 21?”

“I’m seven!” She beamed.

“Oh, my goodness,” you said, looking back at the paper. “You were such a good artist and so grown up I figured you were much older.”

You gave her the paper back

“Can you sign it for me?” She asked, holding it out with a pen.

“Well, the artist is usually the one to sign their work,” you said. “But… I’ll sign it if you do, too.”

She beamed at that and you let her use your back to sign her name on her drawing before passing it off to you. You signed it, too, and gave it back before taking a selfie with her mom’s phone.

“Alright,” Joel said when you stood up again, his face drawn tight, his hand on the middle of your back. “Let’s get you inside, fuckin’ sitting ducks out here.”

“Oh, we’re fine,” you waved him off, going back to the crowd and taking selfies and signing autographs as you worked your way into the theater.

“You like trying to give me a damn heart attack?” He asked once you were inside.

“Everyone needs a hobby,” you said wryly as Quinn rushed over to you with a production assistant at her back. “Should try getting one yourself, you know.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, rolling his eyes but following you to the greenroom all the same.

Quinn reviewed the final topics for the interview and you said hi to Jimmy before getting ready to go on stage and put on a show.

Doing interviews like this one still felt odd to you. Not because they were unusual - you’d gotten used to the talk show circuit by this point in your career - but because of their very nature. The illusion of some intimate conversation between friends on display for the few hundred strangers in the same room and then broadcast for all the world to see.

You’d crafted a version of yourself for times like this, one that was built to appeal to an audience and seem genuine and real, some artificial sheen to wrap yourself up in that you slipped into like any other character. This one, though, grated on you. The strange dishonesty of it, the character you were playing yourself instead of the creation of someone else.

The interview went along like any other for a while, the two of you bantering back and forth and you sharing funny stories from set that sounded off the cuff but were actually carefully rehearsed to make sure you and your costars’ stories aligned.

“Speaking of Chris,” Jimmy said as your time was running down and the audience was quieting after another bout of laughter. “I do have to talk about one thing with him.”

“Just one?” You teased and he laughed.

“Well, plenty,” he said. “But did you know that you and Chris are going viral?”

“No,” you laughed. “But I’m sure my publicist does and she’s thrilled. What are we going viral for?”

“There was a moment in an interview this week,” Jimmy said. “I think we have it…”

The screen behind you changed and the moment from the junket days earlier played, you and Chris sitting side by side as he started on his rant, one that you’d thought would never see the light of day.

“First of all, my costar here is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the single most talented actor I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with so you will treat her with the respect she’s due…”

You sat there, cheeks getting hot, pressing your fingers into your thigh, nervous energy making your stomach turn as you watched Chris lay into the reporter. You’d hoped that this clip had been squashed by his publicist, that the reporter honing in on one of your lowest points wouldn’t be put out for all the world to consume. Apparently not.

“That’s all it takes to go viral now, eh?” You joked as the video ended. Jimmy chuckled lightly but no one in the audience laughed.

“You’ve got to admit, that was a pretty great moment,” he said. “But I was wondering what you thought of it.”

“I think Chris has a way with words that I can’t quite match,” you smiled a small but tight smile. “And I think if I say anything different, he might go off on me next.”

That did get some laughs and you laughed with the audience, hoping that you looked playful and fun, not tense and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“Well we don’t want that,” Jimmy laughed. “Thanks so much for coming on and everyone, go see As We Know It, out Friday!”

You waved your goodbyes and looked stage right, oddly comforted by Joel’s commanding presence there, his face firm as he watched you. You walked right for him as you left the stage, one of his arms going around you as you came alongside him, something grounding in his touch as he ushered you away.

“You’re OK,” he said quietly, guiding you toward the door you came in.

You frowned and looked at him, Joel glancing your way as you did.

“You’re stressed,” he said. “I can tell. I’ve got you.”

You did a more abbreviated run of the crush of fans this time, stopping for a few selfies and signing a few pictures, but not lingering, instead moving as quickly as you could for the car without looking like you were rushing.

Joel didn’t get in the front seat this time, instead climbing in back with you. You frowned as he did but he just ordered the driver to start toward the restaurant where you were meeting with producers.

“You alright?” Joel asked after the car was out of sight from the crowd outside the theater, his eyes oddly soft and open. “That was shitty, them springin’ that on you.”

“It happens,” you said, looking back at him as intently as he seemed to be looking at you. “I should be used to it. I am usually, but…”

“Shouldn’t need to be,” he said. “They should act better.”

You watched him for a moment, trying to puzzle him out but couldn’t see past his stern face with the strangely open eyes. You didn’t understand him. You weren’t sure you ever would.

“I’ll be fine,” you said when you’d been quiet a little too long. “But thank you.”

He frowned.

“For what.”

“Caring,” you shrugged. “Not many people do. But I’m afraid I need you to look out that window for a minute.”

His frown deepened.

“I need to change,” you said. “Shouldn’t be photographed in the same thing this many times so look out that way, please.”

His jaw quirked but he obeyed, shaking his head a little as he did.

“Shouldn’t be photographed at all,” he muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest as you got a pair of black leather pants out of your bag and set them on the seat between you and Joel.

“Probably right,” you said, shrugging out of the jacket and adjusting yourself so you could slide your pants down and off, leaving you just in the mesh top. “But comes with the territory.”

You dropped the clothes you’d shed beside you, the velvet of the fabric brushing Joel’s arm and he glanced toward you - just a reaction, you told yourself - before he jerked his head back to look out the window again.

“Oh don’t act like half the planet hasn’t seen me half naked,” you rolled your eyes as you got into the leather pants, a task that was easier said than done in the back seat of an SUV. “I promise, I won’t bite.”

“Right,” he muttered.

You got the pants into place and pulled out another jacket, draping it over your shoulders and putting the other clothes away.

“You’re safe, Big Miller,” your teased, tossing the bag in the trunk.

“Try to make a habit of not seeing my clients naked,” Joel muttered, settling back into his seat.

“Sounds boring,” you said.

He gave you a look and you laughed.

“Don’t worry,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you’re at risk of anyone thinking you’re interested in fucking me. You’re safe.”

He just grunted and you smiled a little, looking out the window. There was something comfortable when he was like this. You weren’t sure what to do with a Joel who didn’t seem to loathe you, at least a little bit. Even though you wanted him to like you. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you did.

The paparazzi were waiting for you outside the restaurant, too, but you’d been expecting that. Quinn had told them you’d be here and you made sure your pants were actually zipped before getting out and putting on the show you always did, smiling and waving, taking selfies with fans who’d heard you were going to be there, too.

You kept the show on through dinner, talking with the producers of a period piece you were interested in doing, Joel sitting next to you the entire time, his jaw quirking when Leo joined the table, too.

But Henry didn’t make a surprise appearance and, after a while, you found yourself relaxing into things, a few too many glasses of wine deep and giggling when you left the restaurant.

“You got what you need for the premiere?” Quinn asked as you made your way to the door.

“Frank has a vision,” you said dramatically and Quinn snorted. “Don’t worry, my tits are basically hanging out, the press will love it.”

“Well I’ll see you there,” she said, kissing you on each cheek. “Need Frank to have a vision for me one of these days.”

“Call him,” you said eagerly. “I’m sure he’d work his magic! Oh, we could go somewhere matching, that would be fun!”

“OK, you’re drunk,” Quinn laughed and looked to Joel. “She’s drunk. Make sure she gets out of here safely and doesn’t talk to any of the paps outside?”

“I’m not drunk!” You protested and Quinn laughed, taking the lapels of your jacket in your hands.

“You’re drunk,” she said. “And that’s OK, you’ve been doing a lot lately, you deserve to have a little fun. Just don’t make more work for me in the morning when you do. See you tomorrow at the premiere.”

“The premiere!” You said and she laughed, giving you and Joel a final wave. You turned to Joel. “We know what I’m wearing for the premiere, what are you wearing for the premiere?”

“No one cares what I wear for shit,” Joel said, nudging you toward the door. “C’mon, driver’s pulling up.”

“Why wouldn’t they care?” You pouted, looking over your shoulder toward him. “You’re a good looking man, you know.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head.

“What?” You said. “You are! I’m not trying to hit on you but that’s just an objective fact. Even Frank said so.”

The flashes caught you off guard. You’d forgotten, for a moment, that it seemed like half the planet cared that you’d had dinner here. You smiled and waved and Joel kept you walking straight toward the car, keeping you from stopping and talking to the people screaming your name.

“That felt rude,” you said once you were in the car and things were quiet again.

“Too bad,” Joel said, in back beside you again. “Don’t need to be talkin’ to those assholes, anyway.”

“There were some fans in there, too, I think,” you said, settling down into your seat. “But back to what I was saying.”

“No,” Joel said simply. “Seatbelt.”

“What?” You frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean, put your seatbelt on,” he said.

Your frown deepened and you looked around yourself for a moment before Joel made an irritated sound and reached over you, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it into place.

“OK,” you said, adjusting it and sitting up a little straighter. “Seatbelt’s on. Why can’t we keep talking about it? I’m just saying, you should take the compliment…”

“Not interested,” Joel said.

“Oh will you calm down?” You rolled your eyes. “I promise I’m not trying to get you into bed, you’re safe from my scary Siren claws, I just mean if you dress well tomorrow at the premiere people would notice because you’re a good looking person, that’s all.”

“It don’t matter because I’m not gonna be seen with you,” Joel said, his voice stern. “I’ll be on the other side of where press and shit are but the carpet will be you, some assistant and that Chris guy. Don’t matter what I’m wearing or how good I do or don’t look, alright? Jesus…”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “You really let them talk you into that? I’m shocked.”

“The premiere’s got it’s own security and it’s actually damn good,” Joel said. “Not good enough for me to just stay home but you’ll be alright. Don’t need me in any more goddamn photos with you than there already are.”

You watched him for a moment.

“You still don’t like me, do you?” You asked.

He frowned, looking at you.

“Why’s it matter.”

“I didn’t say it did,” you shrugged. “You just don’t like me.”

“Don’t need to like you,” he said. “Just need to keep you alive. Besides, the whole damn planet likes you, ain’t that enough?”

You scoffed.

“No they don’t.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “What d’you call that shit, the hundreds of people waiting for fucking hours just to catch a glimpse of you if it’s not like.”

“They don’t like me,” you said. “They don’t know me. They’re obsessed with a commodity. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a weird combination of every part I’ve ever played, every passing idea they’ve decided to assign to me, some idealized creation that doesn’t exist but they’re convinced is real. You know me, at least a little, and you don’t like me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m right,” you said, your stomach twisting at that. You shouldn’t care what Joel thought of you but you did. There were so few people on this planet who knew you - actually knew you - and he was one of them. And he didn’t see something in you worth liking.

The car pulled up to your driveway and Joel got out first, going around and opening your door.

“C’mon,” he said, offering you his hand. “Like you or not, you got an early day.”

You took his hand - large and warm and secure - and slipped down to the ground, tottering on your heels enough that it made you laugh, Joel steadying you as you went.

“I trust you to actually get yourself to bed?” Joel asked as he led you inside.

You scoffed.

“Where else am I gonna go?”

“Sure you’d find some way to get into trouble,” he replied wryly.

“I’ll go to bed,” you rolled your eyes. “See you in the morning Big Miller.”

***

Joel watched you head down the hall, weaving a little as you walked before disappearing into your room, trying not to think about the way the fucking leather pants hugged your ass or the way your hips moved when you walked.

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself, stalking off to the kitchen to get a water.

You just don’t like me.

Lord, how he wished that were true.

He liked you alright. Far more than he should. Enough that the entire planet’s fucking obsession with you was starting to make sense.

He tried not to think about that.

Liking you was not a good idea. It was a completely horrible idea, actually. He wanted to go back to how he felt before he’d come here. It seemed like so long ago now, before he knew about your mom and Elise and Anna, before what you’d told him - and clearly hadn’t - about that fucking producer, before he saw you laughing with a friend or making kids smile just because you could. He wanted to go back to before you were a person - a real person, one with fears and wants and hurts - instead of some rich asshole he could pretend was a different species from himself.

It wasn’t a good idea to care about you. He had to protect you, he couldn’t be distracted by things like your fucking feelings. Caring about you was dangerous.

He opened the fridge and went to grab a bottle of water but, instead, took one of the beers that was sitting there. Not that drinking right now was a good idea, either, but fuck it.

Joel brought the beer to the pool and sat on the edge of it, the glow of your bedroom light almost tempting. The curtain covered the window but he could make out the silhouette of you through the glass and gauzy fabric. You must not have a shirt on, the outline of your breasts clear in the hazy, warm light. He watched for a moment as the outline of you pulled on some baggy piece of fabric, covering yourself, and he forced himself to look back at the water.

He wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t.

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought about it the day before, too.

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought he might break his fucking jaw from clenching it as he watched you with the actors during the audition shit the day before.

You with these men all made for the screen, designed to be your fucking equal in a way he never could be even if he tried - which he wouldn’t because it didn’t matter. They read lines with you and he watched as you looked at them with adoration, touched them with some kind of longing, pressed your body to theirs, arching around them to fit yourself to them like you belonged there. Because you did belong there. If not with these men in particular then with a man like them. Not a man like him.

Not that it mattered. It didn’t fucking matter.

No, he wasn’t going to think about those things. He wasn’t going to think about the way your tits looked in that fucking dress that Frank had asked his opinion on. He wasn’t going to think about glancing over at you in the car today when he knew he fucking shouldn’t have and seeing you there, half naked in your fucking see through shirt, your thighs looking so warm and welcoming and fucking soft.

He wasn’t.

He’d thought about it the night before. He wasn’t proud of that but he had, the image of you getting fitted for the damn dress at the forefront of his mind. It was like his head was a scratched record, skipping over that point in time again and again and again.

He tried to think about anything else as he stood in the shower that night but fucking couldn’t, his cock half hard as he tried to shove the memory of you away.

When he went to bed, he caved to his baser instincts. He decided to jerk off. Just to get it out of his system because he couldn’t be still stuck on this the next morning and he didn’t think he could sleep with his balls swollen and aching as they were.

He tried looking at porn but he couldn’t figure out what the fuck he wanted to watch. He was absently scrolling through a site, nothing standing out until something caught his eye. Your name, on a video.

He stared at it for a second, your name followed by EVERY SEX SCENE - COMPILATION.

His mouth went dry. His cock was painfully hard.

Could he watch that? It’s not like it was really wrong - it wasn’t something that had been shared without your permission and it wasn’t actual porn. It was just something he could see if he went on Netflix right now and sought it out.

But you hadn’t made it so fucking assholes like him could jerk off to it. And it wasn’t like you were a stranger now, he knew you. Could he do that?

His dick throbbed at the thought.

Could he stop himself?

Joel clicked on the video, his stomach twisting as he pressed play. There was an ad and he read the comments while it played.

She’s so fucking hot.

Bet she moans like a whore in real life.

Fuck I want to choke her out.

She was hotter before, she hit the wall when she hit 30.

The sound of you moaning in his headphones grabbed his attention, dulling the violent anger that swelling in him when he read what other people said about you. Joel took a shaky breath and made the video full screen. He was already this far down the rabbit hole, he may as well fully commit.

The first chunk of excerpts were from the movie you won the Oscar for and he could only stomach a few seconds of it. You looked disturbingly young to him, just a teenager with a softer version of your face getting on her knees, starting to take off her shirt making him jump ahead. He jumped again when it just felt too strange, watching you start to get undressed or turn around when you were obviously shirtless - seeing your skin this way feeling too keenly wrong.

It was the last scene in the video that he found himself watching in earnest. It was something more recent, you looked almost the same as you did now, none of the childish softness to your face that had been there in the first scenes. It was a romantic scene, one that was carefully shot so the viewer saw nothing illicit. The curve of your bare waist, the edge of the swell of your breast, a hint of your ass.

But Joel liked it this way, this moment not tinged with the wrongness the others were. You moaned as your on screen lover pushed inside you - or mimicked it, Joel corrected himself - your fingers spreading wide over the man’s back.

Joel took his cock in his hand, swallowing hard, his heart beating fast. He worked himself slowly as he watched as the man on screen explored your body, close up shots that revealed nothing interspersed with your face as you gasped in pleasure.

He let himself get lost in that, in the sounds you made, stroking himself harder, faster. He wanted to make you make those sounds. He wanted to press his lips to the delicate skin of your throat and kiss and lick and suck as he sank inside of you. He wanted his hands to run over the softness of you, to press his firm chest to your plush one and feel your heart beat through your skin. He wanted to feel you swallow him whole, his body slotting into yours as he made you come.

You moaned and gasped on the video and he let himself pretend that it was for him and he came, imagining it was you and not his own fucking hand he was buried inside as rope after rope of his come spilled over his skin.

His cheeks got hot as he closed the video and cleaned himself up, a pile of tissues on his nightstand the only sign of his indiscretion.

He tried to clear his mind as he settled in to sleep, reminding himself of what he already knew: You were not meant for something like him. It didn’t matter what he wanted, you were for someone better than him. You needed someone beautiful like you, someone with money and power and purpose. You deserved someone like you. And he needed to get past that, at least enough that he could do his fucking job and keep you safe. That was all he was good for now. He knew that.

He tried to remind himself of that again as he sat by the edge of the pool, his mind lingering on you, on your striking beauty and disquieting kindness and keen talent.

He took a sip of beer.

It didn’t matter, he told himself. None of it mattered.

That was the truth of it. Even if you were his equal - even if he was rich and famous or you were just some waitress or school teacher or something besides the most famous woman on earth - it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like he could do anything about it, anyway.

About a year after he lost Sarah, he’d tried dating. It hadn’t been his idea but Tommy had set him up with a friend of a friend and it hadn’t gone well. Not because she wasn’t a good woman - she was. She was kind, smart, beautiful.

But it didn’t seem to matter what Joel did, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to really care for her. He liked her well enough. Enjoyed her company and enjoyed her body but any real affection seemed far away. He’d broken it off before things would need to get too serious, just the thought of getting any further involved making his chest get tight and his head swim. He wasn’t meant for things like that anymore.

He’d left humanity behind when his daughter had. Anything like love and care was closed to him now, he knew that.

So why did he keep thinking about you?

He downed the rest of the beer and sighed before getting up, looking toward your window. He watched the outline of you pull back the blankets and climb into your bed before stretching and turning out the lamp.

He just shook his head and went inside, putting the bottle in the recycling bin before heading to his own room, trying not to think of you lying on the other side of the wall.

It didn’t make a difference. You were still in his dreams that night.

You were standing opposite him like you had the men you’d read lines with but, instead of the comfortable clothes you’d worn to the audition, you were in the mesh top you’d had on that day. Just that and your panties, like you’d been in the back seat of the car.

“Ready?” You asked, your eyes meeting his and he actually let himself look into them now, and how soft and deep they were. You didn’t wait for his response. “I’ll read you in.”

Your body changed, the physicality of you shifting as you became someone else inside your skin.

“What are you so afraid of?” You asked, almost forcefully.

Joel knew his line. He’d heard it enough the day before.

“You!” He said. “I’m afraid of you, of this power you have… I can’t protect you, I can’t…”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you cut him off, stepping closer. “I need you to trust me.”

You were close enough that you were touching him.

He knew this part, too, but he didn’t stick to his lines.

“But I need to protect you,” he said. “It’s all I know how to do, I… I can’t…”

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes meeting his, your body arching against his own and he could feel every line of you through his clothes. You moved to kiss him and he went to meet you but you stopped just short, your breath warm on his skin.

“Why didn’t you protect me, Joel?” You whispered, your lips brushed his as you spoke.

He frowned, pulling back ever so slightly.

This wasn’t in the script.

“You should have saved me,” you said, stepping back from him.

Suddenly, he was somewhere new with you. The middle of the road, a burning car to one side of you. You stepped back from him again, cradling your arm to your chest, blood spreading quickly over your skin from a wound at your stomach.

“No,” he reached for you, but you stepped back. Your ankle was at an odd angle, making you limp. “No, this isn’t…”

“You should have been there,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “You should have saved me. Why didn’t you save me, Joel?”

“I…” he began but you collapsed then and he jumped to catch you, pulling your body tight to his chest, panting for breath. “No, no, no, you’re OK, it’s alright, you’re gonna be OK, you hear me?”

“No,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I won’t. Because you didn’t save me.”

He woke with a start, ready to jump between you and any unseen threat. His chest was tight so he could barely breathe, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat.

It took him a moment to remember where he was, in a bed that was his but wasn’t, in a foreign land that wasn’t really so different from his own. It was still dark outside and he clutched at his chest, trying to calm himself down.

You were safe. You were safe and he was close enough to you that he could protect you if something happened.

He repeated it in his head like a mantra and it helped but only so much. There was this little, nagging thought that, while he thought you were safe and well, he couldn’t be sure. Not until he saw you.

It was early, still dark outside, but he checked his phone. It wasn’t the middle of the night, at least.

He got up on the off chance that you might be awake, glancing toward your bedroom door and seeing it closed. But it looked like there was a light on in the main part of the house so he followed it, finding you leaning against the counter in the kitchen in a bathrobe, a towel around your head. You were scrolling through something on your tablet, drinking from a mug of coffee. There were only a few lights on, the room still mostly dark, something quiet and almost illicit about his presence there. But the tension in his body eased all the same. You were whole, he could relax.

“Did I wake you?” You frowned, glancing up at him from the glow of the tablet screen.

“No,” he said, almost defensive. “Why.”

“Because,” you shrugged, looking back at the tablet. “You usually wear a shirt when I don’t catch you by surprise.”

He glanced down at himself and almost groaned. He hadn’t even thought about putting something on.

“Just woke up,” he said, going to get a cup of coffee for himself. “Didn’t think you’d be awake yet.”

“Well, I needed to get a workout and a shower in before the glam team shows up,” you said, taking a drink from a green smoothie that he hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t worry, I didn’t go anywhere. I just swam some laps and Quinn’s assistant brought me this.”

You held up the cup and waggled it in his direction. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, because heaven forbid I’m concerned about you gettin’ grabbed by some stalker,” he muttered, getting himself a coffee and leaning against the counter across from you and tried to resist the urge to look down the neck of your robe, something that would be so easy to do with you bent over the counter the way you were.

Then you stood up straight, setting the tablet down, making his life a little easier.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” you said, your coffee cup tight in your hand.

Joel frowned.

“What d’you mean.”

“I mean,” you took a deep breath. “That I behaved unprofessionally. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, I shouldn't have said the things I did. You’re right, it’s not your job to like me and it doesn’t matter if you do or not. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable but, if I did, I apologize. You’re good at your job and I appreciate the work you do. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh,” Joel said, taken aback. “Um… It’s… It’s fine.”

“Good,” you said, downing the last of your coffee. “Glam squad will be here in a little while. You may want to hide while you can. I might promise professionalism but I can’t speak for my stylist.”

Joel snorted at that.

“Good advice.”

You smiled tightly, taking the smoothie back toward your bedroom.

“Hey, Siren,” he said, almost wincing as he said it but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to use your real name, the words seeming almost too intimate. But you stopped all the same, facing him with your eyebrows raised. “I meant that. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t go beating yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, Big Miller,” you smiled a little, softer this time. “I appreciate that.”

Joel ate something and got dressed before people started showing up for you. He met each of them at the door, making sure he knew who was in the house and what they were there to do. Makeup artists and hairstylists and, of course, Frank and his assistant. There was even a team of people escorting a fucking necklace and earrings in some oversized red box that made Joel grind his teeth. It was a little surprising, just how many people it took to get you ready to go to a fucking event.

He couldn’t imagine what they could all be fucking doing, especially not for hours upon hours. It’s not like there was anything on you to improve, he wasn’t sure why the hell it’d take an entire day to get you ready for anything.

But when you eventually emerged from your room, he understood.

Frank was carrying the back of your dress while you held up the front and you were nodding along to something the woman beside you was saying and Joel couldn’t help but stare at you.

It was like you were a sculpture or a painting, more a work of art than any mortal thing. The gown looked like it had been made for you, finding and highlighting every soft curve of your body. There was a diamond necklace with a massive center stone resting in the hollow of your throat, making him think about how delicate your skin would be there. Your makeup perfectly framed your eyes and the arch of your cheekbones and the plush of your lips. Your hair and nails and eyelashes were all longer and more elegant than they’d been just hours before and you were so beautiful it was hard to look at you. It was painful, wrong in some way. You were something beyond him entirely, ethereal and other. He wasn’t meant to look upon the likes of you.

“You ready?” You asked, turning your attention to him.

“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than he’d meant it to be. “You really gonna watch an entire movie in that thing?”

“Not the most uncomfortable gown I’ve worn, trust me,” you cocked a smile at him. “But we should go, there’s always traffic for premieres.”

Joel just grunted noncommittally. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford to let you distract him just because you were beautiful. Not after his dream this morning, not when he knew what was at risk.

He stared determinedly out the window all the way to the theater.

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it,” you said as the two of you sat in traffic, getting closer and closer to the red carpet.

“Of what,” Joel said, looking your way for the first time in a while, forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your throat.

“Of the film,” you said. “You might be the only person here who will be honest to me about it. I’m curious to know your thoughts.”

“Not a movie critic,” he muttered.

“I know,” you said. “That’s why I’m curious.”

The two of you finally made it to the red carpet and the door opened, your costar there waiting for you with his hand out.

“My God, love,” he said, looking you up and down. “Do you ever look anything but perfect?”

“I do what I can,” you smiled, giving him your hand and letting him help you out of the limo.

Joel got out, too, going around the back of the crowd instead of following you up the carpet, the distance from you making his heart beat faster and his muscles clench.

“Fuckin’ risky,” he muttered to himself, following your path from the other side of the cluster of fans who were pressed against velvet ropes. There was a large screen set up, a camera tracking you and Reese’s progress down the carpet and Joel kept his head on a swivel, watching you and the crowd and the space at the edges for any threats, trying not to grind his teeth at the way your costar’s hands rested at your waist, hip, back.

He’d very nearly relaxed when you and Reese had worked your way down most of the fans. You’d almost made it to the press, the more contained part of the carpet where you’d be more secure. Maybe, he thought, he was just being paranoid. Maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about here.

You started talking to a young man at the end of he cluster of fans, one not much older than the college idiots that seemed to dominate Austin half the fucking year, but there was something about him that set Joel on edge.

You took a selfie with him and signed something for him but he kept clutching at your arm, not letting you move. Reese’s usually carefree expression shifted, eyebrows drawing together, lips pursing. He put his hand at your waist and gave the man a wave, saying something and smiling a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before pulling you away. You smiled warmly at the man, probably saying something nicer than he deserved, and let Reese lead you on but the man wasn’t letting you go. Your eyes went up, immediately finding Joel’s, a spark of fear in your gaze he could see even from this far away.

Both of the man’s hands closed around your wrist and he yanked you back toward him, pulling you out of Reese’s hold and making you stumble and Joel was moving before he fully realized what he was doing.

It was instinctual, shoving his way through the press of fans with no care for who he knocked down on the way. Even with the tightly packed crowd, he was to you in seconds, the man’s hands locked tight around your wrist, bending it at an unnatural angle, Reese trying to pry the man’s hands away from you. Your eyes were wide, the hand that wasn’t in the mans’ grip on his elbow almost soothingly, as though your gentleness was all he needed.

“No, you don’t understand!” The man was pleading. “I love you, I need you, I’ll do everything for you, everything, no one else will ever love you the way I do, I…”

Before he could finish talking, Joel punched him across the face. The blow was hard and sharp and sent the man reeling, almost taking you with him before Reese caught you around your stomach and pulled you back from the velvet ropes.

Event security appeared then, swooping in on the man as he sat on the ground, looking dazed.

“About fuckin’ time,” Joel snapped to them before hurdling the rope and going to you. Reese had angled you away from the camera that had been following the pair of you down the carpet, cradling your wrist in his hands, saying something to you that Joel couldn’t quite hear.

“You OK?” Joel asked, a little breathless. Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his, something almost frantic in your gaze. Your chest was heaving, your breaths coming in fearful little pants and he closed the distance between the two of you quickly, taking the uncanny beauty of your face in his hand. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek into his palm and his fingers held you tighter than they should but he couldn’t seem to pull back. Your skin was soft, smooth, warm, perfect. You took a deep breath. “You’re safe, it’s OK.”

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling and wet, none of your typical bravado to be found.

“I know,” he said. “But they got him. Not gonna let him hurt you, you’re safe.”

You nodded into him.

“Do we need to leave?” Reese looked to Joel, his brows drawn tight together.

“No,” you said quickly before Joel had a chance to respond. He frowned, going to argue with you but you cut him off. “No, we’re almost to the press, we need to just keep going, it’s fine, I’m fine. We keep going.”

Joel searched your eyes, your face still in his hand and, as afraid as you looked, you were just as determined, too.

“Fine,” Joel clenched his jaw.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“I’ve got you,” Reese said gently to you before turning back to Joel. “I’ll take care of her.”

Joel nodded once, firmly, before finally - painfully - taking his hand back from you. You closed your eyes and took a deep, centering breath. You raised your chin defiantly and steeled your spine and opened your eyes again. You smiled a little as you did and, for the first time, Joel recognized a shift in you. It was like the auditions, when you embodied someone else. You weren’t yourself anymore, you were just another character now, someone with your face and voice but detached from you.

“Let’s go,” you said, leading Reese down the carpet toward the press.

Joel watched until you were at the backdrop, smiling and posing with your costar, making sure event security was close by before slipping back into the crowd.

The man who’d grabbed you had been wrestled away from the crowd, tucked off to the side and now in custody of police. Joel went and found them, introducing himself to the cops and telling them about the stalking threat he’d been hired to protect against.

The man was still yelling, fully sobbing as he said again and again how much he loved you, how all he wanted was to take care of you. Joel wished the police would turn their backs for a moment, just a moment, just long enough for him to get another hit in on him. He wanted to hurt him, scare him, make him realize that you were protected and that he couldn’t get to you.

Joel had never dealt with a stalker before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the guy. The level of obsession, the passion, the willingness to hurt you to get what he wanted made it seem likely.

That was good, he thought. If this was the guy, you were out of immediate danger. You’d be safe - or as safe as someone as famous as you could be. There was a certain sense of peace in him at that.

But there was this keen longing in him, too.

If this was your stalker, his contract would be up. He would go back to Texas with you, pack up the things at your house and say goodbye to this strange semblance of a life he’d found himself in with you and your niece. He’d be without the both of you, alone in the tomb of his house, waiting for the next time he could jump in front of a bullet for someone else so he could feel alive.

He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at that thought, the sickening feeling in his stomach.

This had been a mistake, this whole fucking job had been a mistake. The second he knew who you were he should have told Tommy no, he couldn’t. You were too close to Sarah, the job too long lasting. It was too big a risk for him, too much of a chance for him to get attached to someone he had no business getting attached to.

“Joel.”

He looked around to find Quinn at his back, her face drawn.

“She alright?” He asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“She made it through the press but she might have a broken wrist,” she said, her voice low. “She’s ducking out the back once the film starts, we need to get her to a doctor. She has fight training starting soon and an injury is going to be who knows how much in production delays…”

Joel bristled.��

“And if she’s got a broken fuckin’ bone it needs to be treated.”

“Obviously,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I thought that went without saying.”

“She’s not just a fucking profit center,” he narrowed his eyes at your manager. “She’s a person.”

Quinn looked at him for a moment, considering him.

“I know that, Joel,” she said gently. “I just wasn’t aware you did.”

Quinn, at least, had the foresight to get your usual SUV to pick you up instead of the limo you’d arrived in. Security let Joel in the back door and you were waiting for him there, looking so out of place among the boxes and storage in your gown and jewels. You were stiff and oddly small, shoulders hunched as you leaned back against a cinderblock wall, cradling your injured wrist to your chest. Someone tried to talk to him but Joel ignored them, instead going straight for you.

“Changed your mind?” He asked, hands in his pockets so he didn’t touch you again.

You looked at him through your lashes, something sharply vulnerable in your eyes for a moment before you straightened and smirked a little.

“Figured going to an afterparty with a wrist the size of a grapefruit was a bad look,” you said, showing your arm to him. Your wrist was swollen and discolored and he resisted the urge to take it gently in his hands. “Don’t want the press to be about this, we want it to be about the movie.”

“Alright, c’mon then,” he said. “Get you checked out.”

He put his arm around you, tucking you against his side as you held your wrist against yourself. He stayed close to you on the drive, your body warm and relaxed against him.

“Do you think that was him?” You asked quietly, voice small.

“I don’t know,” Joel said. His hand was on your arm. Your skin was soft. “I talked to the police, told them about the stalker, they’re gonna investigate…”

“He scared me,” you said softly. “I know there were threats but… It didn’t seem real. I didn’t think anything would happen.”

“I know,” Joel said, his thumb tracing a slow, steady path over your skin. “I’ve got you. Keep you safe.”

He said it as much for himself as he did for you. He tried not to think about why he needed to.

The driver took the two of you to a small doctor’s office that, at this hour, was quiet. A nurse met you both at the back and you were quickly ushered into an exam room and given an x-ray, you in your gown on the cold paper of the exam table a sight that made Joel’s heart clench.

“You did indeed break it,” the doctor said, pointing out a thin line on the x-ray. “It’s a minor fracture, shouldn’t need a full cast and just a splint for three to five weeks.”

“How soon before I can train?” You frowned. “Can I train in a splint?”

“That really what you should be worried about?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You looked over to him, your eyebrows knitting together.

“There’s a whole movie depending on me, Joel,” you said. “People have contracts, they have bills they need to pay. I can’t just take weeks off.”

“Can’t make a movie if you don’t heal,” he muttered.

“You need to take at least three weeks before you do anything extreme with that wrist,” the doctor said. “If you don’t, you’ll need a cast and you’ll be out of commission even longer.”

“Alright Doc,” you smiled. “You win, I’ll take it easy.”

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to see you try to hold an Oscar in a cast.”

It was a relief to get you back home again, in a contained space that Joel had gotten to know in the last week. Frank and a hairstylist met you there, the three of you disappearing into your room for a while and Joel considered sitting in his own, not sure he could handle seeing you again but then, he wasn’t sure he could handle not seeing you, either. So he sat on the couch, existing in a state of limbo, not sure what to do next.

“Sounds like you saved the day,” Frank said when he eventually emerged, a garment bag over his arm.

“Dunno about that,” Joel said. “Still let her get her fuckin’ wrist broke.”

“Seems like it could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said. “Broken wrist will heal.”

Joel just grunted.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Thank you. She’s one of the good ones.”

He left before Joel got a chance to respond. The hairstylist left not long after, a bag of hair in her hands, and, when you didn’t come out right after, he almost thought you’d gone to bed. He was considering doing the same when you slowly, almost cautiously, came down the hall, peering into the living room as though your presence in your own home was somehow illicit.

“Oh,” you said, in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants and wrist splint. The makeup was gone, the long nails and lashes and hair, too. But you were still beautiful, maybe even more so now. It was the most human Joel had ever seen you. “Sorry, I thought you’d be in your room…”

“Don’t need to apologize,” he shrugged. “Your house. You OK?”

“Fine,” you shrugged. “A little sore but… I’ll be fine, it’s just a minor fracture.”

Joel nodded slowly and you stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“I’m going to make tea,” you said. “Eat something solid for the first time today now that I’m out of that dress. Call Ellie, check in. Want to join?”

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes, follow you to the kitchen and be next to you, have tea, talk to Ellie. He wanted to keep existing in the same sphere as you, be folded into your life the way he had become the last few months.

But he couldn’t. He knew that. You and Ellie and your lives weren’t for him.

“Should go to bed,” he said instead. “Been a long week.”

You smiled - a little sadly, he thought - but nodded and went to the kitchen and he listened to you just exist for a moment before he left you there alone.

It didn’t seem to make a difference. He dreamed of you again.

It was different this time. You were far away from him, in the t-shirt and sweats you’d changed into, larger than life but out of reach. All he could do was watch as someone hurt you and you looked for him to help you. He ran and ran but he couldn’t reach you, couldn’t do a goddamn thing except watch you hurt because he couldn’t do the one thing he’d been built to do.

He stared at the ceiling when he woke up, his heart pounding and body tense.

He had to stop this. Whatever road he was going down, whatever he was doing, he had to stop. He couldn’t live his life this way, where he was always afraid and waiting for things to go wrong. He’d learned that lesson once, the hard way. He couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t.

“Ready to get back to the Lone Star State?” You asked, already in the kitchen when Joel got up.

“Guess so,” he said. You watched him, like you were waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“Well,” you said when he was quiet for too long. “I know Ellie is looking forward to you coming back, she told me something about that video game you guys…”

“Look,” Joel cut you off. “Ellie’s a great kid…”

“Agreed.”

“But, if that guy was your stalker, I got no reason to be at your house all the time,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, your shoulders slumping a little. “Right. I hadn’t really… That makes sense. Yeah.”

Joel poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Should go get packed,” he said.

He didn’t wait for a response, just going back to his room to gather his things and avoid you and it was a relief when the car was there, ready to take the two of you to the airport.

“We do have to make one stop on the way,” you said, holding the red box that had shown up yesterday.

Joel frowned.

“Don’t you got people for that?”

“Well, the original plans got a little fucked with the whole ‘crazy man at the premiere’ thing,” you said. “But keep your shirt on, Big Miller, it’ll only take five minutes.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes, wishing he was back in Texas already.

He sat in back next to you, anyway.

The stop at the jeweler was quick - you trading the large and ostentatious red box for a much smaller one - and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ushered onto the plane, the last people aboard as you tucked yourself into the window seat in the front row, a baseball cap tugged low over your face and a sweatshirt covering the brace on your arm.

Joel was tense the entire flight. He hated when people realized you were aboard and started demanding autographs and selfies, when you got up to use the bathroom, when the plane hit turbulence and he knew there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do to save either of you if the plane went down and that level of powerlessness disturbed him at his core.

He’d been stupid with you. Careless, reckless, dumb. He knew better now, he knew where giving a fuck led and it was nowhere good. He thought that wasn’t a risk with you, that your spoiled fucking attitude and obscene wealth and the ease of your life would make it so he could never care for you but he was wrong. He gave a shit. For the first time in five years, he cared.

And he needed to get far away from that before it killed you both.

He went wordlessly to his room at your house in Austin when you got there, Seth beating you both to the house to take over so Joel could have a few days off. He grabbed a few things he knew he’d want and resolved to ask Seth to pack the rest for him when the police confirmed that it had, indeed, been your stalker last night. For now, he just needed to get out of here and get away from you.

“Hey, Joel!” You followed after him as he stalked toward his truck, his duffle over his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth and turned to face you.

“What.”

You all but flinched back from him, blinking in surprise at his curt tone. He knew he was being short with you but it needed to happen. It had to.

“Oh,” you said, the smaller red box from the jeweler in your hands. “I just…” You thrust it toward him, looking at him with wide and oddly honest eyes. “I got you something. I ordered it before the thing yesterday, just to say thank you for everything in LA, but it can be kind of a going away gift now, too, since… well, anyway.”

He took it, the fact that you seemed out of sorts disorienting, and opened it. Inside was a watch. It was simple, rectangular with a silver case and black leather strap, but obviously luxurious.

“It’s engraved,” you smiled, fidgeting with your sweatshirt sleeves. “Which is probably dumb but I couldn’t resist, I’m a sucker for shit like engraving, don’t ask me why…”

“You think this is what I want?” He asked, holding up the box, voice cold.You just blinked at him for a moment. “That I want some fancy fucking jewelry? That I’m like your rich fucking friends you can just buy off or something?”

“What?” You looked at him, hurt. “No, no, I… I just… Yours is broken and I wanted to say thank you for…”

“For me doin’ my job,” he cut you off. “That’s what this was, a job. We’re not friends, you don’t need to thank me for shit. You paid me, I protected you, end of story. I don’t want your fancy fucking watch, I don’t want…”

“Then sell it!” You snapped, angry now. “Consider it a tip, run it over with your car because you hate me so fucking much, tell the tabloids about how the movie star bought you a present, I don’t care! I know you’re thrilled to be rid of me, anyway. Nice knowing you, Miller. Have a nice life.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, you stalked back into your house, leaving him there with nothing left but a hollow ache in his chest and the watch that he wished he could find a home for on his arm.

A/N: Look. If you're here because you've read my other stuff, are we at all surprised that we ended up here? Is anyone surprised that I'm back in my natural habitat - torturing Joel Miller - yet again?

I wish I knew why I was like this, I really do, but alas, here we are. Thanks for reading it and for putting up with my total lack of a posting schedule. I really appreciate you being here and caring about these characters enough to read the monster chapters I put out about them.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary

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reflectionsofacreator · 8 months ago

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Unfortunately he wasn’t alone, as evidenced by the frayed red beanie that hid a mop of tangled black hair behind a half brick wall, and that low low whisper against the back of his mind. “A ha!” Ellie Nightingale shouted, and vaulted over the brick wall to point at him dramatically. “It’s you!” “It’s me,” Jason agreed, and tilted his head curiously. “What do you want?” “So you’re the guy who’s dating Dani,” she said, punctuated by an obnoxious pop of chewing gum and completely ignoring his question. Jason let his head fall back slightly and prayed for strength. He didn’t believe in god, except when it came to dealing with Little Shits of siblings. Ellie cackled and clapped her hands maniacally. “Oooh, and you’ve got Dani’s coffee too.” “Hi,” Jason said, cause he was going to try and be nice. “You must be Ellie.” “Gimmie.” She said, and reached for Dani’s coffee. “Ey, no, this isn’t for you!” Jason yelped, and lifted it up too high for her to reach. She glared at him, then jumped up to try and get at it, only to hang from his forearm. She was … light. Too light, for a kid her age and size. She was what, thirteen at most? She could’ve fought Tim for shrimpy sizes at that age. “C’mon!” She whined, kicking her feet slightly before dropping down with a slight thud. “Jerk.” “And here I was going to offer to buy you your own,” Jason snarked, and smirked when Ellie’s blue eyes widened and turned calculating. “Oh yeah? What’s your angle, huh?” She demanded, and it was impressive how light she kept her tone, like she was just joking around, but Jason could hear the thread of hardness in her voice. It wasn’t for nothing that the girl had gotten on with the rest of the street kids, and she fit in with them more than her story said she should. “A glowing review for your sister?” Jason tried, trying to sound sheepish. He wasn't, but he needed to make a good impression. Aaand maybe if he kept telling himself that it would turn true, just like all those stories about gold under rainbows. “… Get me a muffin too, and I’ll think about it,” Ellie sniffed. “One of those giant ones, with the chocolate chips.” “Deal.”

Jason gets to meet Ellie and learns more about the Nightingales, while Red Hood and Phantom learn about some trouble brewing.

--dry wine rebirth, ch 2: taking chances

My fics are currently on lockdown and only available to registered users; if you need one, I have invites.

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #ellie fenton #jason todd #danny fenton #dead on main #creator writes #fic: dry wine rebirth #post announcement #i feel like i should maybe make a banner for my fics

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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Batting Practice Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Tee ball season is almost over, and the Tiny Eagles are still undefeated. You are starting to feel bolder in your personal life, like you are ready to claim everything you are entitled to. And Bradley is subtly letting you know he's along for more than just the ride.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Only two more weeks of tee ball left," Molly murmured as she sipped her coffee next to you on the bleachers.

You paused to think about that. It was only two months ago that you met Bradley, and a lot had changed since you caught yourself stuttering in his presence that first day. After he brought you flowers and lunch to work on Wednesday, he'd met you at your house that night. One thing led to another, and now you knew Bradley loved being called Lieutenant Bradshaw in bed.

"Two more weeks," you agreed. You'd be sad when tee ball ended, but Bradley had been telling you for the past week since the Phillies game that he'd work on some skills with Everett during the summer.

"Go Ev!" Molly shouted when he hit the ball really hard and scored a run against the Tiny Robins. It was Crazy Socks day, and Everett had talked you into ordering him a pair from the Phillies website. You had a second pair stashed away for Bradley's birthday, which you found out from Bob was a week after Everett's.

You clapped along with your sister as you watched Everett run the bases in his red and white striped socks, but your mind was wandering elsewhere.

"You know what you said about Danny last time we talked about him?" you asked, and Molly scoffed.

"You mean how I called him an incompetent man-child? Or how I told you he doesn't deserve to lick the bottoms of your shoes?"

"Neither," you replied, smiling as both Bradley and Bob waved in your direction at the same time. You waved your fingers at Bradley and smiled. "I'm actually talking about child support. And the fact that he never pays it."

"Ohhhh, you wanna have that conversation now?" Molly asked, giving you a bland look. "Ev is almost seven years old."

"Yeah," you replied softly.

You could see the fire in Molly's eyes, but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You've paid for everything. Take him to court. Seriously. Please, take him to court. I would love nothing more than to help you pay for it. Who's your lawyer? I'll send them a check today."

"I don't need your money," you told her firmly for the hundredth time. But now you were finally feeling like you wanted to do something about this. Why had you been okay with letting Danny get away with so much shit before? Everett deserved the whole world, and you were going to try to give it to him. "I'm going to give him one more chance to either be more involved with Ev or start paying for support."

Molly set her empty cup down and said, "Look at me." You met her eyes, and she looked much more serious than she usually did, which gave you a chill. "What are you going to do when Danny won't do either of those things?"

You pressed your lips together to keep the tingling sensation of tears out of your eyes and nose. "I'm going to stop being a doormat."

Molly kissed your cheek and pulled you against her side just as the game was ending.

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

"Still undefeated!" Everett cheered as Bradley carried him on his shoulders up to the parking lot after the game against the Tiny Robins ended in a victory for the Tiny Eagles.

"Hey, Coach Bob," Bradley called, and Bob turned around, still holding Molly's hand. "You better start writing your speech for when you win Coach of the Year. The team is undefeated with two games left!"

"You'll have to give a speech, too," Bob said as he adjusted his glasses. "The award goes to both coaches, not just one."

"Undefeated! Undefeated!" Everett chanted. You were walking next to Bradley shaking your head and smiling.

Bradley looked at you as he said, "Ev is the best on the team, Kitten. He's really good." Everett continued to chant as Bradley added, "I'm going to plan out the whole summer with visits to the batting cages, pitching in the park, and learning more about all of the different positions. He'll be ready for baseball next spring. No more tee ball." Bradley couldn't remember being this excited about baseball since he was a kid trying out for his first team.

"He's really that good at it?" you asked. "Thank goodness I signed him up for tee ball."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed, "for more than one reason."

You opened the back door to your car, and Bradley deposited Everett into his booster seat at the same time that Molly climbed in through the other door and tried to buckle herself into the seat. Bradley chuckled while Everett practically screeched with laughter, and then you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"I'm going to buy tickets for the Pittsburgh Pirates game on Everett's birthday," you told him. "Molly and Bob are coming, too."

Bob perked up when he heard his name. "No, Molly and I are going to buy all the tickets. For his birthday present."

"I thought I'd get them for everyone," Bradley said with a frown. "My treat, again."

"I already bought them!" Molly shouted from inside the car as Everett tickled her until she was wheezing.

"She's so annoying," you said, resting your head against Bradley's chest. "She wants me to save my money for my lawyer."

Bradley jerked his head back and coaxed you to look up at him. "A lawyer for what?"

"Don't worry about it," you whispered before you returned to snuggling against him.

But he wanted to know what was wrong. "Are you okay? Is Ev? Is this about Danny? What can I do?"

"We're okay, Bradley."

"Kitten. You can talk to me about it."

"I know," you replied, squeezing him tighter. "We're okay for now."

"Well, that's settled then," Molly said as she climbed out of the car with her clothes all dishevelled. "Everett defeated me in the tickle fight, so I owe him a movie. I'll pick him up tomorrow after lunch."

You looked up at Bradley with a smirk on your face. "Any chance you're free for a little bit tomorrow after lunch?"

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

Later that night, you called Danny after sending him texts throughout the day telling him you needed to talk to him.

You were happy you had waited until Everett was in bed to make the call, because as soon as Danny answered with a bark of, "Yes?" you felt anxious.

"Danny," you replied, gripping the edge of the counter so you wouldn't lose your resolve. "Hi."

"What do you need? I'm trying to work."

You squeezed the counter harder and took a deep breath. "Let me know when you have time to spend a day with Everett. I think you need to make that more of a priority."

You were met with silence.

"Danny?"

"I'm here. You know I don't have time for this."

You pressed your lips together and held back your tears. "He is your son, Danny. You need to make time for him."

More silence spread out before you. Honestly, you wanted to start screaming into the phone, but you knew you shouldn't. Nobody could upset you with just a small handful of words the way your ex husband could.

When you got no response, you took a deep breath and said, "If you're not going to give him some of your time, then you need to start making up for it by paying us child support."

"Child support?" he asked with a laugh. "You know I don't have a steady income like you do."

You took a deep breath. "I understand that, but providing for Everett shouldn't solely land on my shoulders here, Danny."

"Listen," he replied smoothly. "I have a huge gallery event coming up next month. I'll probably have some more spending money then."

He was trying to manipulate you the way he always had. You'd spent years listening to him try to validate his excuses, and somehow he always got you to agree with him. You didn't need to fall into these traps any longer. Not when you had Molly in your corner. Not when you knew Bradley cared about Everett's happiness.

"Taking care of your son doesn't fall under the same category as extraspending money." You said it before you gave yourself a chance to process your words, and somehow you felt a little stronger. "So then I guess he can come spend a day with you instead?"

"Fine," Danny snapped immediately. "But I'll probably be working, so he's going to have to play on his iPad or something."

His iPad that you paid for. "Sure," you agreed, knowing this was probably too good to be true. "He's going to love to see you no matter what. So how does next Sunday sound?"

And then you ended the call feeling better than you ever had after a conversation with Danny. You poured yourself a glass of wine and carried it up to your bathroom. You filled your tub while you removed your makeup, and then you sank down into a delicious bubble bath.

You texted Molly about your conversation, and she wrote back saying SLAY YOU QUEEEEEN BITCH. DO NOT FUCK WITH MY SISTER.

You were still laughing when Bradley texted to ask what you were up to. He had gone out to that aviator hangout bar with his friends, so of course it made you feel even giddier that he was texting you while he was there.

When you told him you were in the bath he wrote back while you sipped your wine.

Bradley Bradshaw: Pics or it didn't happen

You snorted into your wine glass and took some strategically posed selfies. Finally you took a good one where the swell of your breasts was pronounced above the bubbles, and your knee was peeking above the water next to your glass. You sent it to him, and you did not have to wait long for a response.

Bradley Bradshaw: Kitten, please baby, you're teasing me. I can only take so much.

You laughed and sent him a second photo where he could see your nipples.

Bradley Bradshaw: You are so fucking hot. And now my dick is hard. In the middle of a game of pool.

You sent teasing texts back and forth while you finished your wine, and he reminded you that he'd be there tomorrow afternoon. And then he sent you a list of all the dirty little things he wanted to do to you. You dreamed about his mouth and his mustache all night long.

And the next day, as soon as Molly picked Everett up to take him to see the movie, you ran up the stairs, two at a time and dashed into your room. You dug around in the bottom drawer of your dresser and pulled out everything you needed. Bradley would be here in just a few minutes, and you'd been wet and worked up for him since last night.

You shimmied into the tight black bodysuit and fastened the choker around your neck before securing the ear headband in place as well. Then you found some sheer black socks that went up over your knees and added them to your Kitten outfit. When you looked in the mirror, you squealed with delight. You turned and checked yourself from different angles. Not bad. Not bad at all.

You were thinking about how Bradley barely even got a chance to touch you the last time you wore this kitten costume that day at tee ball. You were thinking about how you bought this outfit just for him in the first place. When you heard the Bronco pull into your driveway, you were practically squeezing your legs together to keep from moaning.

When you made it to the bottom step, you heard Bradley's key in the door, and somehow that made you even hotter. You were afraid you were going to jump on him, so you kept your hand wrapped around the bannister as he opened your front door.

"Hi, Coach," you said, your voice laced with need as you waved your fingers at him.

"Oh, god." His groan was so deep and loud, you clenched around nothing as he blindly slammed and locked the door. He let his keys, wallet and hat fall right to the floor as you whimpered.

"Coach." Your voice quivered as he approached you slowly. "Bradley."

You almost matched up to his height as you were still standing on the bottom step. He was close to you now, licking his lips and breathing faster. He let his knuckles trail slowly up and down over your bodysuit between your breasts, and soon you were panting for him.

His grin was smug as he asked you, "Did you wear this for me?"

You nodded your head as he stroked your hard nipples through the thin fabric. "Just for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

And then his head tipped back as he groaned, and you felt so powerful. You guided his hand down your belly and between your legs, and he met your eyes again. "You're already wet."

"I've been wet since we were texting last night," you admitted. And then you were draped over his shoulder with his big hand on your butt while he hauled you back upstairs.

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

Bradley had been thinking about you in your Kitten costume for weeks, but he hadn't been expecting you to be wearing it today. It was even filthier looking this time, as you paired it with black socks that hugged your thighs instead of your jeans. You skipped the whiskers, but you were wearing your choker. Your collar.

As he took you up to your bed, you were whimpering his name as he stroked his fingers along your ass and your thighs. You were soaking wet. He could feel it when he dug his hand between your legs to tease you as he reached your bedroom.

When he set you down, you crawled across the bed, showing off your ass for him before you settled with your back against the pillows. Bradley was tearing his shoes off followed by his clothing as he watched you run your hands over your bodysuit, squeezing your tits.

"Do you have any idea what you look like right now?" he asked, crawling across the bed to get to you.

"A Kitten?" you asked softly, fingers skimming over your taut nipples.

"My Kitten," he growled. "You look like you're mine. My own personal Kitten with a wet pussy and filthy red lips." He kissed you hard, pushing your head back against the pillow while he ran his fingers along the strip of fabric that was barely covering your slit.

When you moaned into his mouth, he released your lips in favor of running his nose and tongue along that sinful red choker on your neck.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir," you whined, and his cock ached with need. "Please."

He was sucking on all of your exposed skin, tasting every inch. You were grinding up against his hand as he palmed your core through your bodysuit. "I'll take care of you," he promised, kissing your choker and your necklace chain at the same time. "You keep your claws tucked away like a good girl, and I'll take such good care of you."

Then he released the snaps between your legs that were keeping you concealed, and the bodysuit was open. You rubbed yourself against his knuckles, and his fingers slid right through your slick slit. You shook your head against the pillow, and your headband with the ears went a little crooked.

"I am so turned on," you gasped. "I don't think I have ever been this turned on before."

You were whining for him and rubbing your stocking covered leg along his cock. But your eyes were still alert, and he wanted them glazed and fucked out.

"I'm gonna eat your pussy," he told you, nibbling your nipples through the fabric as you gasped in agreement. "But I'm not going to stop until I'm ready to. Does that sound okay?"

"Yes sir, Coach Bradley, sir!"

"Kitten, look at me," he said, still stroking your clit softly with his knuckle. "That means I decide when you're done."

"Yes!"

And then he put his mouth on your pussy, and it was exquisite. Just like last time. But maybe even better, because he was going to make you lose your mind for him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and spread you open wide, kissing your hole as he buried his nose in your wetness.

He started off slow, teasing and licking, and then your fingers were in his hair. Your little gasps and words of encouragement made him smile, but as soon as he took your clit between his lips, you got loud. Really loud. Bradley was delighted that you could be as loud as you wanted to, because he was addicted to the feel of your smooth pearl, your perfect clit under his tongue.

"Bradley!"

You were thrusting up against his face, and he dipped his tongue inside you as your wetness coated his chin. He loved this. He loved eating pussy. He knew he was good at it. But you were too perfect. Everything he liked. Everything he wanted. He needed you. He released your left leg and shoved two rough fingers inside you as he eased himself up your body to kiss those pretty red lips.

"You taste so fucking good. Like a damn kitten in heat," he told you as you ran your tongue along his chin. You kitten licked his face and whimpered while he finger fucked you harder. Your hands wound tight up in his hair were a little painful, but it just made him go harder.

Your eyes were already starting to drift closed and he kissed you, smiling against your mouth. "Remember. You're done when I say you're done."

His words made you keen, and he could feel you starting to squeeze his fingers as he put his mouth back on your clit and sucked gently. That first orgasm came screaming out of you as your hips bucked and shook against the mattress. But Bradley was already working on the next one as you gasped his name over and over again.

With his tongue moving in languid strokes as you started to calm down, Bradley managed to coax you close to the edge again. This time you released his hair in favor of wrapping your hands in your pillowcase.

"What the fuck," you gasped, gaping at him and meeting his eyes as you rode his tongue to another orgasm. Your forehead was scrunched up in disbelief as you gasped, sounding scandalized that he did it twice.

But he wasn't done yet. He ground his cock down into your bedding, bucking for some relief against the delicious show that all of his senses were being treated to. Because now you looked truly exhausted, and your fingers were unable to get purchase in his hair. He kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh as he ran his calloused fingertips over your sensitive, overworked clit until you were whining softly.

"It's okay, Kitten. I love you," Bradley promised, and you nodded wordlessly. And sure enough, after several more minutes, you hiccuped a few times as you came again for him. Your pussy softly pulsing around his middle finger as you gasped had him palming his cock.

He was about to cum. Quickly, he positioned himself so he was on his knees with your left thigh between his legs. He never removed his middle finger from inside you while he stroked himself a half a dozen times. And then he was spurting his cum all over your pussy and your belly and your bodysuit.

You didn't even seem to know what was going on as you shook your head against the pillow and wiped at your tears.

"You okay?" he asked softly, and he smiled. Because your eyes were glazed, your face looked fucked out, and your body was limp, connected to his by his one finger inside you. "God, you're fucking glorious."

A soft laugh escaped your lips while Bradley stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you nuzzled against him like a kitten.

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

You had your arms draped lazily around Bradley's neck as he showered with you. For a split second, he had been nervous that he might have ruined your bodysuit when he came, but you assured him you could always buy another one. Honestly, you thought the splashes of his white cum on your skin and the dark fabric looked sinfully good.

"You gonna wear that outfit again for me?" he asked, running his fingers along the little paw print charm he got you where it rested next to your collarbone.

"Do you really need me to?" you challenged. "You just took a bunch of photos of me half wearing it with your cum all over me. Shouldn't that be enough?"

He kissed you, gently pulling your bottom lip between his before he said, "No way. Those are for when I'm deployed. I'm gonna want the real thing again and again."

You felt a jolt of reality. "Do you know when you're getting deployed again? Do I need to start preparing myself to miss you?"

"No," he murmured, kissing along your neck as the spray from the shower calmed you. "When I find out, you'll be the first to know, Kitten. And I must admit," he added, pausing on a deep inhale that left you with bated breath, "I do love the idea of being missed. By you. And Ev."

You didn't know what to say as you snuggled up against him for a few minutes before you eventually turned off the water. You'd been in a relationship with him for a week. One week. And you already daydreamed about when he'd move in with you. You were already thinking about where all of his stuff would fit in your house. But it was too soon. And you didn't know if he'd want to permanently be here at all.

But you did say, "Everett and I already miss you when we're not with you," and he smiled.

"Speaking of Ev," he said, drying off his legs. "It's getting late. Do you want me to be here when they get back?"

You only had to consider that for a beat. "Yeah."

Bradley met your eyes as he pulled his underwear on. "Can I help him with his homework? Or do something else to make things easier for you?"

In that moment, you wanted to tell him everything that had happened on the phone with Danny. You wanted to tell him that you and Molly had talked about a lawyer. But all you said was, "I love you."

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Kitten dressing as the kitten again. Kitten making demands of Danny. Kitten getting what she deserves from Coach! Love to see it. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 19

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daydreaming-nerd · 9 months ago

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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 9

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Okay remember when I said there would be a lot more angst? Well here we are. We have arrived at angst station, everybody off the train. This part is so dramatic I really laid it on thick here. Regardless I hope you enjoy and I will try to get part 10 up ASAP!!!

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexism, super heavy angst, this got really dark, violence, blood, implied rape (but not described), did I mention violence?, (I'm sorry you guys.)

Word Count: 6,333

The next morning I wake up in my own bed and I don’t move for hours.

Thankfully, after about an hour of crying by the Sidra, Azriel found me and took me back to the House of Wind. Apparently Cassian had sent him, which gave me a little bit of hope. That is until I went to his door and found his room empty. According to Azriel he left for Windhaven after returning home to pack a bag. I didn’t need to interrogate further to know that Cassian wouldn’t be back before the wedding.

I spent the entire day before the wedding in bed, staring at the sliver of light on the floor that the curtains let into the darkened room. Everytime I close my eyes I could hear Cassian and I’s laughter, which made me unable to fall asleep. When I wasn’t reminiscing over memories of Cassian I was listening intently to the sounds of the house, hoping I would hear his heavy boots thudding back to his room. I just wanted to see him one last time.

However, those footsteps never came, and I found myself staring at the wall until my body gave up on me, from either exhaustion or hunger and I fell asleep.

Cassian’s pov:

The second I landed in Windhaven I cracked open a bottle of whiskey and downed a glass praying it would allow me to sleep. Of course I was wrong.

The entire night I saw images of y/n holding that little girl in her arms. God I had practically melted right then and there, thinking about what she would look like holding our own children. How adorable they would be with their tiny wings.

My sleepless night had carried over with me the next day, everything and everyone putting me on edge. A young Illyrian had dropped their sword while sparring and I blew up at him. Devlon tried to argue that the females shouldn’t be training and I nearly slammed his head into a wall.

I was aggressively sharpening my swords on the edge of the sparring ring when Azriel found me, my brother simply nodded his head towards the center as if to say “blow off some steam big fella.” I couldn’t turn him down, as he was the only one who could give me a run for my money, and today he sure did.

“You fight like shit and you look like shit too brother,” Azriel barked after beating me again. He tossed his sword to the ground seemingly calling it quits for the day.

“Yeah well my mate is about to marry another male in the next 12 hours so how did you expect to find me?” I gripe at him taking my seat on a weathered rock.

“I suppose I wouldn’t know what to do in your situation either,” he admitted, taking a seat next to me.

“Seems about right for me. Grew up a bastard and lived in the mud till you and Rhys’ sorry asses came along. Lost my mother and never even got to bury her, fought for 500 years, and then became mated to the princess, who is marrying another male.” I scoff, shaking my head at the ridiculousness. “I’ll give the mother one thing, at least she’s consistent.”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, as if taking in what I had said before clapping a hand on my back, “The pain, it will go away Cass. It will take time, but I will be there with you every step of the way.” he assured me, and for a moment I felt a little lighter.

“Get wasted with me tomorrow?” I ask more seriously than I should.

“You know I will,” he said, offering me a slight smile.

I hoped that Rhys had gotten some more whiskey since the last time I raided his cabinet, because I don’t think any amount of drink could make me forget the way she looked at me the first morning we woke up together. The way she would laugh when I kissed her cheeks, the feeling of her delicate hands running soap over my wings. How she would say “you need a bath!” when I would give her a sweaty hug after training. The face she made when I distracted her from one of her romance novels by tickling her feet that rested in my lap.

By the cauldron, I was a dead man.

y/n's pov:

Stepping into the Autumn Court felt like I was walking to my own execution. Instead of Eris being at the end of that aisle there would be a guillotine. I almost wished for that instead. Any comment made by Rhys about how I seemed tired I chalked up to pre-wedding nerves and thankfully he didn’t push after that.

The entire morning had been spent poking and prodding at my skin, my hair and my eyes. If I thought that Nuala and Cerridwen were meticulous I was sorely mistaken. The ladies of the Autumn Court didn’t mess around and if this was my life going forward (which sadly it was), cauldron boil me.

The ladies in wait primped me up until a half an hour before I walked down the aisle. I had to literally commande them out of my suite in order to have a moment alone. I sat staring at myself in the floor length mirror. For what it was worth, I looked beautiful. I half expected the dress that was chosen for me to be awful and gaudy, however it was elegant. The lace along the neckline mimicking the flames associated with Eris’ power. Had I been walking down the aisle to a different groom, I might venture to say that I was excited to be married. However as I stared at myself in my white wedding dress I couldn’t help but feel a tear slide down my face.

A tentative knock reverberated through the room, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear.

“Come in,” I said with shaky words looking at the double oak doors through the mirror before me.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was looking around the room before entering. A large figure finally popped it’s head in, eyes finding me immediately. I would know that jet black hair anywhere.

Cassian.

I whirled around to meet his gaze as he shut the door, taking slow and tentative steps towards me. His eyes searched my face for any hint of anger or resentment.

“Cass,” I breathed, as if to assure myself he was really there.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled looking me up and down, but I could see the veiled sadness on his face. He was putting on a front, and a bad one at that.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a tentative step towards him. “How did you get in here?”

“They don’t have you that well guarded,” he chuckled, stepping closer till he stood before me. Neither of us reached for one another, unsure of where we both stood. It felt wrong not to instantly wrap my arms around him. “I don’t like where we left things,” he continued.

“Neither do I,”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I yelled at you that night. I’m sorry about the things I said,” he starts again. His hands reach for mine but pull back as if afraid to touch me. “I wanted to say that I understand now. And that I think you are incredibly brave to be doing this for Velaris. I’ll never be happy that you’re marrying Eris, and I’ll always wish it was me. But I understand now, and I respect the love you have for your people, and the lengths you’re willing to go to to keep them safe. Will you forgive me?”

I feel the stray tear pricking my eye once more, “There was never anything to forgive Cass. I was more upset with myself for giving you false hope. For going along and loving you and acting like things were going to be alright when I couldn’t guarantee it.” I sigh, casting my head down, unable to face him.

I feel his gentle calloused hand tip my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes, that beautiful hazel, glassed over. Despite it all, despite what I put him through, there is still so much love in them, and I know I’ll never really deserve it.

“Loving you was the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and ever will know,” he smiles as if he’s remembering the short time we did have together. “I’ll be here waiting if you should ever change your mind or in case something ever happens.”

“Cass,” I start to protest but he stops me.

“I’ve loved you for so many years y/n. There can be no one else but you. If I don’t get to have you until we are both old and gray so be it. I’ve waited this long,” he assures me cupping my cheek.

I don’t even have words to reply to his confession. Boundaries be damned. I threw myself around him pulling him as close as possible. His arms tighten around me like he had been waiting for me to make a move. In the embrace there’s an understanding, an unsaid agreement.

I back away to see those hazel eyes once more, my own eyes raking over his body. I notice he’s not dressed in a fine suit jacket, or even his fighting leathers. Instead, he’s donning a loose fitted shirt, something completely unfit for a royal wedding.

“You’re not staying are you?” I ask, pressing a hand to his stubbled cheek that tells me he didn’t shave this morning.

“No, I just had to see you one last time,” he answers, taking my hand from his cheek so he could hold both of them.

The weight of his words shoot right through me, and as I look at him, I let them sink in. I watched as a tear slid down his own cheek, it was the only time I had ever seen the general cry.

“One last time,” I repeated, letting the words consume me.

His eyes glanced down at my lips, a silent plea to taste them again,

“Can I?” he whispered.

“Gods yes,” I sigh.

A hand drifted up cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. The last kiss we might ever share. I poured every ounce of love into it trying to give him something to remember me by, trying to savor every moment of it for when my days ahead were darkest. My chest heaved as if being pulled forward and then…

Snap.

It was as if a piece of me was returned, one I never knew I lost. I pulled back to meet his gaze and by the way he looked at me I could tell he knew, had known. I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time as that shimmering golden bond glowed between us.

“You’re my-” I started but I jumped at the bang sounding throughout the room.

My eyes met the fiery auburn of Eris’ as he entered the room, at least twenty autumn court soldiers behind him. I didn’t have time to step away as he winnowed to me pulling me away from Cassian.

“You!” he seethed at my general who was already assessing the situation. “I had my suspicions but never the proof and you fell into my trap so easily.” he boasted.

My thoughts scrambled to what Cassian had said earlier…”They don’t have you that well guarded.”

“Restrain the bastard!” Eris ordered his grip on my arm tightening at the command.

“No!” I screamed lurching for Cassian but Eris hauled me back to him.

The soldiers were on him in an instant all of them falling like dominos before The Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian’s eyes blazed with a fury by the likes of which I had never seen before, he wasn’t a general protecting his princess. He was a male protecting his mate.

Eris’ body tensed behind mine as soldier after soldier fell. In an act of desperation I felt him unsheathe the dagger at his thigh, pressing the blade to my throat.

“Oh general,” Eris sang.

It was enough to catch Cassian’s attention for a split second, his eyes widening as he saw the position I was in. A rogue soldier used the small window of time to pull his dagger and stab it through Cassian’s side.

“NO!” I screamed as Cassian hissed, his knees hitting the floor. Immediately the rest of the soldiers were on him, restraining him and binding his wings. His siphons tried to come to light but sputtered out.

“Bloodbane,” Eris smiles, lowering the dagger from my throat. “Stings like a bitch doesn’t it?”

“Eris please, don’t do this. He’s my mate, I didn’t know until now and-”

“I would choose your next words very carefully, pet,” he cuts me off. “Right now your ‘mate’ has been stabbed with a dagger laced in bloodbane, which means that even if your dear brother did know he was here he couldn't communicate with him. As for Rhysand, he now sits in a wedding chapel completely unaware and unarmed with a bloodbane arrow aimed for his fucking throat. And last time I checked the only asset you had was a magic cunt.”

Cassain growled from the other side of the room at Eris’ vulgar words. My eyes flitted to where he was pulling against the restraints.

“However, I consider myself a merciful ruler,” Eris taunted, grabbing my face to meet his stare. “I’ll give you a choice. You either walk down that aisle, be a good little wife, and pop out a couple of heirs as promised, or you call off the wedding and I’ll gut your precious general where he kneels.”

“y/n, no!” Cassian gritted through bared teeth.

I watched my mate struggle to break free, the bloodbane in his system beginning to take over. I looked to Eris who stared at me with hungry eyes. I tried to think of some way out of this, but Eris was right. We had fallen right into this trap, and my hands were tied.

My gaze met Cassian who could read my face like a book, “I’m sorry Cassian, but I once told you that I could never live with myself if something happened to you and I had the power to stop it.” I turn to face Eris and his shit eating grin. “If you promise not to hurt him, or my brother, I will go with you.”

“You will submit to me fully?” Eris asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I nod, my mind flashing back to when Rhys was in the same position.

Eris steps closer to me, tilting my head up in an act of dominance, his mouth too close to mine for comfort. I could hear Cassian’s grunts as he continued to try and break free.

“And you’ll warm my cock whenever I please?” he muses, clearly loving the control he has over me.

“Yes,” I grit.

He smiled triumphantly, releasing my chin as he turned to his guards, “Take him away and lock him in the dungeons.”

“You said-”

“When you walk down that aisle and say ‘I do’ then I shall send him back to the Night Court, Jewel of Prythian. I won’t be taking any chances.” Eris growls in my face before turning to Cassian who had now been brought to his feet. “If I ever see you in my court, or anywhere near my wife again Prince of Bastards, I will make sure that she pays the price.”

“You fucking bastard!” Cassian roars, body nearly limp from the bloodbane as he’s hauled off by the guards.

“Wait, let me say goodbye!” I cry running to him, but I’m yanked back by my arm so roughly it nearly pops out of its socket.

“Your obedience begins now!” Eris grits but I pay him no mind thrashing about in his grasp trying to touch my mate once last time as he disappears behind the oak doors.

“Cassian!” I scream for him, tears waterfalling over my eyes.

“y/n!” he shouts back.

But it’s too late. The doors close with a definite slam and I’m left weeping in Eris’ grasp as I hear the sounds of Cassian struggling down the hall.

Cassian’s pov:

Eris was right, the bloodbane hurt like a bitch. Even an hour later as I sat on the cold, wet floor of the Autumn Court cell, the toxin still made me feel lethargic. As if I had taken the world's strongest sleeping tonic.

The worst part of it all was that I could hear everything. The organ playing signaling that y/n was walking down the aisle and the cheers of the people as they finally said their vows. The worst and loudest of them all were the bells.

They rang with such clarity, and joy. The happy little melody could be heard from everyone in the Autumn Court, announcing that the Eris and y/n were finally wed. The ringing made me double over with grief, their sound a reminder that I was the only male in Prythian who could not protect his mate. A shame greater than being a bastard, and one I would carry with me until the end of my days.

Metal on metal screeched from somewhere in the dungeon as a light poured in. The jingling of keys and stomping of boots stopped at the door to my cell and I didn’t even bother to look up. Nothing mattered anymore anyways.

“Come on ‘Prince of Bastards’, time for you to go back to your own court,” the guard grumbled, like hauling me home was a huge inconvenience to him.

I rose to my feet and stepped languidly out of the door. The restraints on my wrists and wings were removed, the skin on my wrists rubbed raw from the blue stone shackles. I was led up the stairs to where the wards ended and was immediately winnowed to the border of the Autumn and Winter Court. The cold blizzards of winter whipping around us and chilling my wings.

“Prince Eris has asked me to remind you that you are now banished from this court. He also says that should you choose to seek out his wife once more you know what the consequences will be.” the guard relayed.

Before I could even think about punching the asshole square in his jaw he disappeared into thin air, no doubt going back to his post in the basement of the palace.

I was left with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts, and the feelings of my own guilt as I flew home towards the House of Wind where I knew Azriel was waiting. The flight was the longest one I had ever been on, as normally I took this route with y/n in my arms.

I had never been so happy to touch down on solid ground once more. Azriel tentatively walked out onto the balcony, two glasses of whiskey in hand. His shadows told him that something was very wrong.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, an alarm ringing in his voice.

The lump in my throat returns as I remember how it all went down. “The bond snapped for her, and she changed her mind. Eris found us, said he had set the whole thing up. I was stabbed with a bloodbane dagger,” I say, lifting my arm to assess the blood leaking from my side. “He told her that if she didn’t marry him he would gut me and Rhys.”

The next words teeter on my lips as I feel my eyes brimming with tears. It felt like pieces of me were being ripped out as I finally confessed to my failure.

“I couldn’t save her,” I choked out, voice cracking halfway through.

The words being uttered into the world was enough to have my knees crashing to the ground. The impact radiating through my body to the open wound on my side that still hadn’t healed. I was sure that Azriel had said something as I heard the glasses of whiskey clatter to the ground. But the roaring in my ears was so loud, so unbearable, that the only thing that assured me he was still there was the arm he slung around my back as he knelt next to me.

y/n’s pov:

The wedding was uneventful and to be honest the only part of it I remembered was when the priestess said, “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The silence that had fallen upon the crowd was so deafening I nearly shuddered. I was stupid to hope that he would come charging in like some fairytale I had read as a child. The smug look on Eris' face as the priestess continued with the nuptials made my blood go cold.

The reception was even worse. I had spent the entire time sipping wine with a bland expression on my face. It seemed as though Eris’ new favorite word was ‘wife’ considering he found a way to use it in every sentence. While most would think it a term of endearment I knew it was just to show his ownership.

“Prince Eris, congratulations on stealing ‘The Jewel’ from us all,” a voice said, cutting across the sea of chatter. I looked up from my lap to find the High Lord of Spring, standing before our table.

“Thank you Tamlin, she is quite the prize,” Eris crooned, placing a kiss to the back of my hand.

“That she is,” Tamlin nodded, his eyes raking me from head to toe. “Almost makes me regret crossing her brother, I would’ve liked to have been in the race for her hand.”

“All in the past now,” Eris smiles, kissing the palm of my hand. “Right wife?”

“Right,” I nod to him before turning to Tamlin. “High Lord, where is the Cursebreaker tonight? I would’ve liked to make my acquaintance.” I ask secretly hoping that my brother might catch a glimpse of his mate tonight.

“Feyre is,” he averts his gaze from mine as if trying to decide what to say. “She is safe at home. Busily planning for the wedding.”

“The wedding?” I inquired further, wondering if Rhys knew.

“Yes we are to be wed soon,” Tamlin beamed with pride. “I’m sure we will see you both present?”

“Of course Tamlin, of course,” Eris assured the High Lord of Spring.

Surely if Feyre was getting married to Tamlin my brother knew. I hoped I would get the chance to tell him. The last thing our court, well I suppose his court now, needed was another separation of mates.

The rest of the night passed on quite slowly. At one point I was able to feel the bond between Cassian and I. It was faint, but it was there, and I almost swore that I felt him tug on it at one point. It wasn’t until people started making their excuses to go home that Eris finally said the words I had been dreading.

“Shall we go to bed, wife?” he mused his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“After I say goodbye to my brother,” I nod standing up to find Rhys, wherever he was.

“You’ll see your brother soon enough, my pet. For now let us retire to our chambers,” he growled, grasping my arm and winnowing away to what I assumed was his room.

He watched intently from behind me as I took in my surroundings.

The bed was large, draped in furs and crisp white sheets. Wood paneling surrounded the four walls, giving the place an ornate look. The fireplace was a glow, casting a warm light upon the room. If it had been anyone else’s room it would’ve been cozy, maybe even romantic.

The air filled with tension as I waited for Eris to do something, or say something, as I refused to turn and meet his gaze. The only sound heard was the crackling of the fire.

“I’ve waited for this moment for quite a long time,” Eris mused from where I knew he was leaning against the door.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear throughout our courtship,” I say straight, unable to meet his predatory stare.

“How should I have acted when you are so tempting? So innocent, so pure, and now so completely mine,” he purred and I could hear his feet shuffle as he pushed off the wall. “And now that you’ve promised me your submission? Well,” he chuckled. “I’m going to have a great deal of fun with you.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew what was coming and I knew he wouldn’t be gentle and loving like Cassian. I knew that once again my hands were tied.

“Tell me you belong to me,” Eris uttered, taking a step closer to where I stood rigid.

I sucked down the lump in my throat, “I belong to you,” I whispered.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” he went on, taking another step forward, his presence looming.

“I-I want you to touch me,” I repeated back, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Eris hummed in approval behind me. He took one, two more steps until I felt his warmth at my back. Finger tips danced up and down the backs of my arms causing my breath to lurch in fear. His breath was hot on my neck as his presence sucked out every bit of air from the room.

“Tell me you love me,” he purred.

My heart stopped cold. There were many things I would have to do or say to please Eris in the millennium that I would be tied to him. But these three words? He would never hear them from my lips. Maybe towards our children, but never to him.

“You know it wouldn't be true,” I whisper, feeling the tension radiating from his body.

His hands grip my hips like a brand, ripping my body around until I am face to face with his seething eyes.

“Then I will make it fucking true!” he growls hauling my mouth to his.

Eris had kissed me a thousand times before, not one of those times did I ever enjoy the experience. But this time? This had to be the worst. All of it felt so wrong. Knowing I had a mate. Knowing he was somewhere in this world right now. It made me sick. It was rough, all teeth and tongues. He didn’t want to kiss me, he wanted to devour me.

“Say it!” Eris demanded, breaking apart our so-called kiss.

“I will love your hounds and your mother, I may love your brothers and one day our children, but I will never love you, Eris Vanserra,” I seethed, unable to take much more.

I expected him to growl, or curse or hit me. I expected a thorough lashing for what I had said, but he didn’t even so much as flinch. What scared me more? His mouth curled up in a smirk.

“You forget that you are also a Vanserra now and speaking of heirs, I think it’s time I put one in you right now,” he mused and my stomach bottomed out. “What do you say ‘Jewel of Prythian’ think I can get you knocked up on the first try?” he smiled, backing me to his bed.

There were no words for the terror I felt. No handbook to prepare me for what came next. All I could do was shut down every emotion I had and do my best to become a ghost. A shell of myself.

No matter how hard I tried, it didn’t subdue the pain.

Azriel’s pov:

I thought that getting Cass drunk might help distract him from the feelings floating down the bond tonight, but boy was I fucking wrong.

I had seen my brother lose soldiers and whole infantries. Had seen him lose his first love, the valkyrie, Tanwyn. I was there the day Rhys and y/n went under the mountain and we thought we lost them for good.

None of that compared to the screams of agony that emanated from the male before me.

“He’s fucking hurting her!” Cassian bemoaned, gripping the nearly empty bottle of whiskey.

It didn’t take much to figure out that he could feel everything y/n was feeling through the bond. And at this late hour? It wasn’t hard to guess what Eris was doing to her, and Cassian had to feel every moment of it down the bond.

“Shh calm down Cass you have to try and block her out,” I pleaded with him, gripping his hand in mine.

His eyes were glassed over, his hair tangled from him nearly ripping it out at the roots. He had been like this for well over an hour now, and I almost wished the whiskey would do its job and make him fall asleep simply so he would be unconscious.

“I can’t Az I’ve tried,” he yells at me, nearly slumping to the side from where he sat on the floor leaning against the wall.

Earlier Rhys had spoken into my mind and asked if everything was alright. I had lied of course, telling him everything was fine, not wanting to insert myself in my brother and the princess’ business. Now I wished I had told him to come if only for him to break into Cass’ head and make him sleep. Watching him feel everything his mate was feeling while she was being… well there weren’t words for it.

“Breathe Cass, breathe,” I soothed, trying to get him to catch his breath long enough to breathe in and out fully.

“I-I can’t,” he cried. “My mate.”

His voice resonated with hopelessness and brokenness, reminiscent of the tragedies depicted in literature. This situation felt nothing short of hellish. For centuries, I longed for a mate—a bond that every fae yearned for. But witnessing how it tormented Rhysand, and observing its impact on Cassian, made me question if I truly desired a mate. In my 500 years of life, I had never seen a male stripped down to his core as profoundly as this.

y/n’s pov:

The next morning I woke up late in the day, the atrocities of last night lasting well into the early hours of the morning. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I wasn’t in the House of Wind, I was in Eris’ room. It wasn’t Cassian’s arms around me in a possessive grasp, it was Eris’.

I slowed my heartrate down enough to assess the room around me. Behind me, Eris was fast asleep, which meant I had a few moments to collect myself before he woke. I looked around the room for a second space and found a door ajar that appeared to lead to a bathroom. I saw my opportunity and took it, carefully wiggling out of Eris’ grasp.

My body ached all over, especially between my legs, but I pushed through until I stood from the bed. I tiptoed over to the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible. Thankfully there were two robes hung on the door. The one for Eris made up of thick cotton, and the one for me made of a cream colored silk.

I reached for the silk robe and slipped it over my bare body, noting every large bruise and handprint that littered my skin. A problem for a later time, I told myself.

I must’ve spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom collecting myself. Constantly repeating my new found mantra.

I will not cry.

I spent so long taking deep breaths that I thought I was prepared for whatever came next. But the second I opened the door and saw Eris standing, staring down at the white sheets of the bed expectantly I knew I was sorely mistaken.

“You didn’t bleed,” Eris stated, tossing the bedsheets aside, stalking towards me.

“What do you mean?” I replied feigning innocence like I didn’t know what he meant.

My heart began to beat out of my chest as Eris stalked closer and closer to me. How could I have been so stupid? To overlook the one thing that meant the most to him in this entire facade.

“Virgins are supposed to bleed the first time they are taken by a male, yet you didn’t,” he growled, stepping into my bubble as my back hit the wall. Never in my life had I felt so small. “Which means you weren’t pure when you married me, or when you came to my bed.”

Every nerve in my body froze over as I watched him put together the pieces. There was no telling what happened next, and the only thing I could do was beg for mercy from whatever plans Eris had for a soiled female.

“Eris I-”

“Did you let that Illyrian bastard deflower you?” he gritted out, a rough hand came to grip my throat, slamming my head against the wall.

Tears pricked my eyes. Even if I had wanted to answer, the hand on my neck wouldn’t allow me. I could only shake in terror and anticipation of what would become of me.

“You useless, pathetic fucking whore.” he gritted, hand squeezing tighter with every insult. “Our marriage is now null and void by the traditions of my court, which means you no longer have the protection of being called my wife.”

His hand releases my throat and I have mere seconds to suck down a breath before a harsh slap falls across my cheek, knocking the air from my lungs once again. The next thing I know I’m kneeling on the floor, clutching my face. Eris reaches out a hand to yank me up by my hair.

“Let me show you what we do to ran through sluts in my court,” Eris spits in my face.

His hand doesn’t relinquish its grip from my hair. Instead it begins to drag me out of the room and down the hall. My scalp is burning from the tug on my hair. He takes a back corridor reserved for servants and my bare knees bump, slice and break on the rough stone stairs leading down to wherever he’s taking me.

My hands try to find purchase on the walls around me so that I can ground myself and fight back but it’s impossible.

“ERIS PLEASE!” I scream, but my pleas fall on deaf ears.

We reach a basement room that drops in temperature and he finally releases me. I try to catch my breath as I watch him scribble something on a piece of paper, picking up a hammer and nail. I instantly go to cower in a corner as he walks towards me. The autumn prince pulls me out of my fetal position by my ankles pinning me to the ground beneath his weight.

“In case I did get you pregnant on the first try,” he seethes before I feel a sharp pain to my lower abdomen.

I don’t look down, I can’t look down. Afraid of what I might see there when I do. My eyes roll to the back of my head as Eris grasps my arm and a cloud of darkness washes over us.

When the shadow withdraws my bare skin is whipped and flayed by blistering cold winds. The ground beneath me is soft, but ice cold. I open my eyes long enough to see white as far as the eye can see.

The Winter Court.

“And just in case you get any ideas about utilizing that so-called mating bond,” Eris speaks again before another sharp sting plunges into my side.

White hot pain spreads from the intrusion and spreads like acid moving through my veins. I feel like the blood beneath my skin is on fire, and I almost wish it was in order to combat the blizzard around me. Only one thing could disable me like this, bloodbane. The very same used on Cassian.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, ‘Jewel of Prythian’. I hope that bastard general was worth your life and your court. Because when Hybern comes to call it won’t be Autumn Court armies that come to your aid.” Eris says, the disgust in his voice evident.

I can’t speak, can’t even think about anything but the agony I feel. The throb from my lower abdomen and from my side. The bite of the wind and snow on my bare skin. I can barely register the cloud of darkness as Eris winnows himself away, leaving me with nothing but a silk robe for warmth.

I reached down with a cold hand to rip the dagger from my side. I hoped if I could stop the bloodbane from spreading that I might be able to use the bond to call Cassian. The second I discard the dagger blood stains the white snow surrounding me, and I realize my mistake. My hand grasps at the open wound, attempting to apply pressure. As I sat there, bleeding and freezing to death I thought of one thing.

It was all for nothing.

All the pain, all the suffering. Hurting Cassian, hurting myself. It had all been for nothing. I was dying and alone, fingers and toes already losing feeling and I still had no army for my people. Cassian nowhere in sight to save my body and my soul. And I would die here knowing that it was all for nothing.

Because time was of the essence, and no one was coming.

Part 10

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 , @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @mybestfriendmademe, @anxious-study, @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams , @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5

Been having some trouble with tagging so if you get the notif twice I'm so sorry

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always

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