#Part 1 Shopping references

[i-cast-teatus-deletus]

So, this list is overall pretty good, if a lot less specific than the last one from Strategist.

Not everything is relevant, and some of the items are Not Great in general—Cortibalm, in particular, is fine if you use it for a few weeks while you recover and throw it away afterwards, but you can't use it long term. (If you click through to Amazon, you can read a bunch of reviews about people who went through Topical Steroid Withdrawal from it, and that is a bad time.) And if you follow me normally, I think you have a good guess how I feel about essential oils (bad).

Adhesive remover was the real lightbulb for me on this list, as hardly anyone else has mentioned it in all of my research (I don't have an actual opinion on Unisolv vs. the other options as of right this moment, but it IS the cheapest and most ubiquitous option I have come across).

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT 1

simon riley / reader

FIND PART TWO || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: any triggering acts such as harassment/sa are done by a third party, not simon!!! also the sa is not vague or implied, there is a written out scene so please be mindful when you read! thank u to @allsaiint for reading over this and helping!

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

part 1: 17.8k total: 35.8k

Your muscles were stiff, thighs twitching and trembling as you laid in bed, staring at your water stained ceiling. Your chest rose and fell in time with rapid breathing. You had worn yourself out, caused a wet spot on your bed, yet you remained completely unsatisfied. Your fingers were cramped up and you let out a groan of frustration, rolling over to crawl out of bed. 

It had become a daily ritual at this point, you with your hand between your thighs, rubbing and touching, only to get into the shower completely unsatisfied and embarrassed at your own inability to get yourself off. 

People your age didn’t struggle like this, you convinced yourself.  Your cheeks burned as you stepped under the warm spray from your showerhead, the creaking pipes just background noise to you now. You were broken, that was the only explanation you could think of. 

By the time you got out of the shower and changed your sheets, throwing the dirty ones into the washer, it was evening and a familiar knocking rang through your apartment.

You didn’t even have to answer it before the lock was clicking and the large form of your best friend Simon ducked in. 

“Hey, Simon!” you called cheerfully, excitedly bounding into the room and wrapping your arms around him in greeting. 

He grunted, harshly patting your back in the familiar way he always does before kicking his boots off. When he straightened up, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at you. 

“What's with you?” he asked, a thick, dark brow raised suspiciously. 

“Um,” you stepped back, shrugging as you tried to look nonchalant, “What do you mean?”

“You look…” his eyes raked down your body, clearly assessing you, “You look tense.”

Immediately, your cheeks erupted into flames. Your face felt so hot that you had to bring your hands up to cool them before laughing nervously, “That’s no different than usual.”

He was silent for several, long, grueling seconds before grunting and breezing past you to the kitchen, clearly letting it drop. You took a moment to catch your breath before following him, finding him hunched over looking into your barren refrigerator. 

“Where’s all your fuckin’ food?” he snapped, straightening back up with a huff when he heard you come in behind him.

“Didn’t get a chance to shop this week, Si,” you replied stiffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why?” he demanded, slamming the appliance closed before heading to your cabinets to do inventory there too.

“Paycheck was short again this week,” you answered, speaking quietly in hopes he wouldn’t look into it anymore than that. 

He angrily slammed a cabinet closed and leaned on his palms against the counter, head hung between his shoulders, “Your boss fuckin’ stiff you again?”

“I-It’s not a big deal, Simon–” you attempted to quell him.

“Not a big deal?” he snapped, slamming his hands down on the counter, making you flinch at the noise. You knew Simon would never, ever hurt you but his anger was something to behold nonetheless, “It is a big deal when you can’t even afford to fuckin’ eat!”

“Simon…” you whisper, anxiously picking at a string on your cotton shorts, “I wasn’t going hungry, I have like…ramen and stuff…”

He says your name through gritted teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh, “Why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t afford proper groceries?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it, Si,” you mutter, “I-It’s my problem, not yours.”

He gives you a long, unblinking stare. His usual soft, puppy dog brown eyes now felt intimidating. One thing about Simon was that he never hid it when he was clearly upset with you. And knowing he was right now made you hang your head pitifully.

He moves suddenly, tugging his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a small stack of clean bills, slapping them on your countertop.

“Simon, no–” you attempt to reach out for them, willing him to take the money back.

He grabs your hand immediately, shoving the appendage away from the money, “You’ll take this and you’ll go to the store tomorrow and get some damn food or I’m going to go to the bar and wrap my fuckin’ hands around your boss’s throat until he coughs up your money.”

“You don’t have to do this, Simon!” you argue, exasperated, “Y-You don’t have to take care of me like this.”

“Yes, I fuckin’ do!” he counters, “You’re my responsibility and I’m not going to let you exist on fuckin’ cup noodles until that shithead pays you properly, not when I can take care of you. Now stop arguing and put this in your wallet now.”

He used that damn Lieutenant voice, leaving no room for argument. You bit your lip and slowly picked up the bills from the counter.

“Thank you, Simon…” you whisper, clutching the money close to your chest as you offer him a wobbly smile.

“Shut up and go,” he huffs, though his voice is much softer and affectionate now. 

You turn on your heel and go to the table by the door, slowly taking the time to place the money safely inside. You felt tears pricking at your eyes. You were so, so lucky to have someone in your life that did everything in his power to take care of you, to look after you and make sure you had food on the table. No one had ever cared about your well-being the way Simon did, and your heart felt incredibly full because of it. 

You could hear him still stalking around the kitchen, grumbling to himself in annoyance. He comes out of the kitchen, phone in hand, before he’s taking a seat on your old, creaky couch. His knee is bouncing up and down in that way it always does. It’s like he’s always a live wire, ready and waiting for something to happen.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, still standing by the table.

He grunts, shaking his head, “Orderin' dinner.”

“Oh,” you mumble, “What’re you getting?”

“Gettin’ from that breakfast diner you like,” he responds quickly, not looking up from his phone. 

“You don’t even like that place,” you giggle, “In the mood for a breakfast sandwich?”

“Not for me,” was his clipped response.

“What?” you whine, “Simon, don’t order me food!”

“Did you eat today?” he asks quickly, placing his phone on the table, clearly done with the order.

“I had cup noodles!” you point an accusing finger at him, “So yes!”

“That’s not real food,” he leans against the back of the couch, closing his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest. End of conversation. 

You sigh, shaking your head. You debate continuing to pester him about it but you hear your washing machine begin to ring the jingle signaling the cycle is finished. You cast one last, unseen glare to the man on your couch before heading to the washer, methodically taking the now clean sheets out. 

You finish placing it in the dryer and turning the machine on, stepping back into the living room when there’s a knock on the door. Simon is on his feet in seconds and at the door before you can even react. When he slams the door shut, he holds the bag of food up for you to see, dropping it on the coffee table before taking a seat again. He resumes the same position, arms cross over his chest and eyes closed. 

“Are you tired?” you ask softly, taking the empty seat beside him. He hums in response, “You want to spend the night?”

“Guess so,” he responds after a few seconds, “You work tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow night,” you mumble, reaching for the bag of food, untying the knot so you can get inside, “I hate working Friday nights.”

“I can stop by tomorrow if you want,” he offers, finally opening his eyes.

You think it over for a minute. It wouldn’t be the first time he sat in the bar on a busy Friday night, nursing a half-drunk bourbon, as he waited for you to get off, “I think it’ll be okay. Last week was fine.”

He simply stares at you in silence before sighing through his nose. But he doesn’t argue and you’re thankful for that. 

Simon’s been looking after you like this since you turned 18 and moved out on your own. There have been many, many days and nights that you’ve taken up his time and energy and as you grew older, you tried to do it less. He had an incredibly busy job and life and the last thing you wanted was to add weight onto his already heavy shoulders. 

The evening turned to night and before you knew it you had a full belly and leftovers to store in the fridge for breakfast. You folded your dried sheet and placed it in the hallway closet, acutely aware of the sound of Simon showering in your bathroom. 

It wasn’t a very big shower and you sometimes wondered what it looked like for him in there. Surely he had to hunch down to properly wash his hair and shoulders. But those thoughts always turned into something less than innocent. 

You imagined what he looked like, all wet. How big he surely looked in there, no doubt he would dwarf you. He would be able to easily crowd you in the corner, make it so you couldn't escape as he blocked the exit – not that you would want to escape. 

You slapped a hand against your forehead, shaking your head violently to rid yourself of those thoughts. You tugged a spare blanket out of the closet and slammed it closed, rushing to your bedroom to place it on your bed. 

Your cheeks burned with shame over having such unsavory thoughts about your best friend. As much as you liked to pretend that the crush you had on him when you were children had faded like typical puppy love, you knew your feelings were alive and well deep inside where you had pushed them when he rejected you when you were 14. 

It was just because you were so pent up, you convinced yourself, you would have those thoughts about any man that was inside your shower!

You crawled onto your side of the bed, flopping back into your pillow as you waited for him to come in. You completely ignored the throbbing between your thighs, a feeling you were more than used to by now. But your fingers itched to reach down, slip beneath the band of your shorts and touch your clit, the little bud throbbed so desperately that when you clenched your thighs together, a shiver would go down your spine. 

Just as you started to reach down, just to try and relieve the ache that settled there, the bathroom door opened. You yanked your hand back up and tried to look casual as you heard his heavy footsteps move towards the bedroom door.

He pushed the door open wider so he could come in, having to duck his head down to avoid hitting his head. He placed his towel in the laundry basket and slowly crawled into bed beside you, placing his pillow flat so he could comfortably lay down.

Some people may find it strange sleeping with him like this, but your couch was much too small for him and he would rather cut his own fingers off than make you sleep on the damned thing. It was old and so uncomfortable that it caused you to be sore if you sat on it for too long. Plus, you never felt uncomfortable having him in the bed with you like this. He was warm and safe and he always smelled like your grapefruit body wash after he showered. 

It made your heart thump in your chest, knowing he walked around the next day smelling like you. 

“Goodnight, Simon,” you mumbled, reaching over to turn your bedside lamp off.

He grunted quietly, rolling over so his back was facing you. You smiled in the dark and snuggled down into your own blanket, closing your eyes as well. 

The next morning, you woke up and the bed was empty. As usual. 

Even when he was home, Simon functioned off of the strict military schedule he’d been accustomed to for his many years in the military. You sat up and stretched your arms above your head, tossing your blanket off of you. The floor was chilly against your bare feet, making you shiver. 

After going pee, you ventured out into the living room. Simon was lounging, quietly watching TV – the morning news, it seemed.

“Good morning,” you called. 

“Eat,” was all he replied, not even breaking his gaze off of the TV.

You purse your lips but do as you’re told – not because he said so, but because your stomach was painfully growling and the breakfast sandwich in the fridge sounded delicious. 

As you heated it up in the microwave, you hummed to yourself.

“I’m going to go to the store after I eat,” you called, “Do you want to come?”

“Nah,” he grunted, “Gotta go soon.”

“Oh,” you tried to hide your disappointment, “Will you be back tonight?”

“Probably not,” he responded, your disappointment only growing at that. 

The microwave beeped and you pulled your plate of food out, bringing it back to the living room to eat it beside him. He took up an absurd amount of space given how large he was and how small your couch was – but you didn’t mind being pressed up against him. You didn’t think he minded either because he never bothered to move away. 

You quietly ate your breakfast, finishing up just as the news segment ended. Simon stood, knees popping as he did, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet before pausing, looking around. 

“You leaving?” you ask, placing your plate on the table as you followed his lead, standing.

“Got to,” he mumbled, still glancing around, “Where’s my phone?”

“You leave it in the bedroom?” you offer.

He sighs and disappears down the hall for a split minute before returning, tucking the device into his pocket. He grabs his coat off the table by the door, slipping it on and zipping it up. You approach him by the door, watching him slip his boots on and tie them. 

“See you later, Si,” you say, trying your best to hide your disappointment at him leaving. 

You never wanted him to leave, always feeling painfully lonely without his presence in your home. Since he was gone for long periods so often, you liked to enjoy his company as much as you can when he’s home. But you would never be the type to ask him to stay when he couldn’t because you knew he would run himself ragged to keep you company even when he was exhausted and had other things to do on top of it. You never wanted to be a burden to him.

He straightens up, stomping his feet a couple times to make sure his boots were on fine. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against his chest. You wrap both arms around his middle and hug him tight.

“I’ll come by when I can,” he mutters, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead.

Then he’s gone, the door slamming closed and leaving you by yourself in the doorway, already feeling an emptiness that would remain until he returned. 

Just as you promised, you went out and bought groceries, courtesy of the money Simon had so kindly given you. You made sure you had some meat, fruit, and veggies, along with some canned goods. You made sure you didn’t buy cup noodles because he certainly wouldn’t be thrilled to know you bought that since he was so vehemently against them being in your diet. 

When you got home, you put all the groceries away and quickly realized that you had some time to spare before you had to get ready for your shift at the bar. 

As you sit on the couch, mindlessly watching some random show you’ve seen a hundred times before, you suddenly realize you’re squeezing your thighs together. 

And your panties are feeling awfully sticky. 

Your body heats up as you find yourself cupping your breasts through your shirt and bra. But you quickly realize that’s doing nothing for you and you strip your shirt off, pulling the sports bra over your breasts to cup them without the fabric restriction. You sigh and relax into the couch as you pull and pinch your nipple, tugging them and rolling them beneath your fingers. Your thighs clench and rub together as you tease yourself. 

But you tire of that quickly, knowing you could do something that felt so much better. 

Your fingers tremble as you tug the button of your jeans open and kick them off, letting your panties go down with them. You take note of the fact the center is completely sticky and wet. God, how long had you been dripping into your panties like that?

You lean back on the couch, placing your feet on the cushions, letting your legs open nice and wide. Your folds flower open, embarrassingly wet and shiny. Your clit is hard and swollen between them and you can practically see the bud twitching. 

With two, shaky fingers, you reach down and swipe over the bud. Your entire body twitches at the contact and you sigh as you slowly circle it, using your own slick as lubrication. 

You bring a finger to your entrance, prodding at the stickiness there. It’s embarrassing how wet you are. Your pussy makes loud noises as you touch but it doesn’t really provide you much pleasure so you bring your finger back to your clit. 

You circle it, pinch it, and roll your fingers over it. You’re quietly moaning, lidded eyes hazy as you watch your fingers play between your thighs. It feels good, a warm feeling settling in your gut the more you touch yourself. 

But then the inevitable happens – it’s like you hit a wall. 

You whine in frustration, speeding up your movements to hopefully reach the edge that you know is right over the wall. But you don’t get any further, if anything you feel that warmth vanishing at an alarming rate. 

Tears sting your eyes, “No, no, no…” you beg no one.

You grit your teeth in frustration, yanking your hand away to watch your pussy clench and throb over nothing, drooling and dripping slick onto the couch. But you’re too frustrated to try anymore. 

You close your thighs and flop down onto the couch, letting a few tears escape.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly complain, slapping the couch out of frustration.

Your lamenting is interrupted by your phone going off. You look at it on the table and see it's the alarm you set to let you know to start getting ready. 

Great, you spent 45 minutes playing with yourself and still didn’t get any further than you had for the last 20-something years of your life. 

You were starting to think you should schedule an appointment with a doctor and find out if you were well and truly broken, but quickly decided against it. That would be fucking humiliating.

What would you say, “Hi, I can’t make myself orgasm and never have, please doctor, tell me if my vagina is broken?” Absolutely not. 

You collect your clothes from the living room floor and toss them in your laundry basket in your room before you take a very fast shower just to clean your own mess up. Then, you get dressed and ready for the shift you know is going to suck at the bar. 

At the door, you make sure you have your belongings. You turn out all your lights and lock the door behind you before setting off to the bar. 

It’s not a long walk, about 15 minutes away. But just the idea of stepping foot inside the bar fills you with dread. 

It was a little hole in the wall place, shady and seedy were the best ways to describe it. You got pretty good tips from the patrons most nights but your boss was the biggest piece of shit you’d ever had the misfortune of being in close proximity with. 

He had a very bad habit of putting his hands where they didn’t belong and cutting his employee’s pay for no reason – or reasons he completely made up. Your last paycheck was short because he claims that you ‘got enough in tips to make up the loss’ – you didn’t. And when you argued, he threatened to fire you. 

You were already living in the cheapest flat you could afford; it was run-down and poorly maintained. But it was better than not having a roof over your head. And it was a fight to even get hired at the shitty bar you worked at now, you weren’t willing to go back to looking for work. 

So you simply bit your tongue and took what money you could get. It wasn’t the first time he did it and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

You got to work as soon as you clocked in, greeting your coworkers with a tense smile that they returned. Everyone was in the same boat as you, after all. No one would choose to work here unless they were down on their luck like you.

The night started slow, slower than usual for a Friday night. Despite the place looking like it was going to fall down around you and the occasional rat that scampered across the floor, the bar was actually kind of a hotspot. The alcohol was cheap and your boss never cut anyone off so patrons were free to get as sloshed as they wanted. 

That also meant the customers tended to get rather unruly. 

Which is exactly what happened when the night inevitably picked up. More people came in, more drinks were ordered, and you were running around the place like mad to get drinks where they needed to be. 

You cast a glance to the clock behind the bar, sighing in relief when you realized you had 10 minutes left of this hell. 

You were sure you were a sight, clearly run ragged and ready to get the hell out of there and go home. Your feet were sore from the old, worn shoes you wore. They looked fine on the outside, cute, but the soles were worn down and provided absolutely no cushion. It was hell. 

“This goes to the corner table,” the bartender called over the loud voices of the bar. He was a nice guy, couldn’t be older than 20, but you honestly couldn’t even recall his name. 

You took the tray of shitty beer from the counter and quickly made your way to the corner table in the back, careful not to spill a drop. You placed the tray down and gave the guys at the table a charming smile.

“Here’s your drinks,” you said, placing a glass in front of all 4 of them. 

“Thanks, beautiful,” one of them slurred, given a drunken wink.

“Um, is there anything else you need?” you asked, ignoring his flirting, as you picked up the tray. 

“Maybe,” another one chuckled, leaning back in his seat, raking his eyes down your body. You wished you could crawl into a hole at the feeling of his gaze on you. Despite being fully clothed, it made you feel incredibly naked – like he could see through your clothes. 

It certainly wasn’t the first time a customer or two flirted with you. It was sort of a rampant problem in this bar, if you were honest.

“What is it you need?” you asked, wishing so badly you could just be free from the conversation. 

One of them pulled out a stack of money, waving it in front of your face, “I’ll tip you this if you show us your tits.”

Your cheeks burned hot in humiliation as the other three laughed and jeered. You shifted on your feet, tapping your fingers anxiously against the metal tray in your hands, envisioning yourself slamming it over their heads. 

“N-No thank you…I-I don’t think that would be appropriate,” you hope that they can’t hear the way your voice trembles over all the noise in the bar.

“Come on, sexy,” the one with the money grinned, licking over his teeth as his eyes narrowed on your chest, “Bet they’re real nice. C’mon, you need the money right? Why else would you be working at a place like this? Go on, just lift your shirt up and let us see them tits!”

“M-My shift is over, I really need to go,” you shakily smile and take a step back, “I-I hope you enjoy your night, boys.”

Your attempt to diffuse the situation and get out of it proved futile because when you attempted to flee, one of them clapped a firm hand around your wrist and tugged you forward. You stumbled on your feet, dropping the metal tray with a gasp, finding yourself nose to nose with one of them. The smell of alcohol was potent on his breath and it made your lip curl in disgust. You tried to tug yourself free of his grasp but his grip was too strong. 

The guy sitting on the other side of the one who had a hold on you reached over his buddy to yank the neckline of your shirt down, the cheap, worn material stretching with ease until it tore at the weakest point. You let out a horrified cry when your bra became visible to the group, all of them cheering and shouting degrading things right in your face. 

The one across the table reached down, you felt his hand against your breast through your bra and a lightning bolt of pure terror ripped through you. It was like everything happened in slow motion.

You could feel his thumb hook under your bra and start to tug, tears flooded your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You raised a hand and as hard as you could, slapped the one still holding you clean across the face. 

The entire table went still but his grasp loosened enough for you to turn on your heel and bolt as fast as you could into the staff room, covering your exposed bra with your arms as best you could. You passed one of your coworkers, her eyes wide in concern when she saw your state. 

She followed you into the staff room, closing the door quietly behind her. You stood in front of your locker, ripping it open as you attempted to collect your things but your mind was running too fast for you to actually make any meaningful movements.

Your coworker called your name and you paused.

“Hey, take a breath,” she whispered softly, placing a hand on your back. You realized you were hyperventilating. You attempted to level out your breathing, wiping the tears off of your cheeks only for more to replace them. 

“What happened?” she asked softly, “Do you want me to call someone? The police?”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to respond but only a little sob comes out. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. She looks nothing but sympathetic, softly patting your back and encouraging you to breathe deeply. 

The staff room door suddenly slams open, making both of you jump. Your boss storms in, completely red in the face and furious. 

“Get out,” he snaps at your coworker. 

She casts an apologetic look to you, squeezing your hand before she ducks her head and leaves the staff room. He slams the door behind her, locking it for good measure – leaving both of you alone. 

He advances on you faster than you can react, he wraps a hand around your throat and slams you against the lockers. It hurts but you can’t get a noise past the grip around your neck. You blink back the tears that are still coming, trying to see him more clearly.

“Are you broke in the fuckin’ head?!” he screams, a volume that makes your ears ring. You wonder if the patrons can hear it outside, “You put your hands on a customer?!”

“Th-They put their hands on me first!” you defended yourself, hoarse and choked under his grip, “They touched me!”

He only looks more furious, eyes falling to your ripped shirt and exposed bra. He grabs one side of the already torn shirt and yanks, ripping it the rest of the way. Your eyes go wide and your first instinct is to kick him but you’re panicked and uncoordinated so it misses its mark.

“I don’t give a shit if they forced you over the table and fucked you!” he howls, spitting all over your face in his rage, “You better think fast and hard about how you’re going to rectify this. Do you understand me?”

His grip tightens a bit more around your throat and you hastily nod, blubbering mindless apologies to try and appease him. He doesn’t look any less angry but lets you go nonetheless. Your knees are too shaky to hold you up so you slide down the lockers until you’re sitting on the dirty floor.

“You go out there and you apologize to them,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “Or I’m going to fire you and you’re gonna be out on the fuckin’ streets, got it?”

You nod your head, holding back your sobs but can’t control the tears that fall down your cheeks. He sends you one last glare before turning back to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. 

You’re left there, trembling on the floor and quietly crying to yourself. Your heart is racing and you’ve never felt more terrified and humiliated in your life.

The door opens again and you look up in horror at the idea of your boss coming back. But it’s your coworker again. 

She quietly crouches next to you and gives you a once over, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I-I have to apologize t-to them,” you manage to choke out. 

Her eyes widened, “No way! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I can’t lose this job,” you sob, pressing the heel of your hands to your eyes as you cry, “I need this job. He says he’ll fire me if I don’t apologize!”

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go with you, okay? You can apologize and then you can go, that’s it.”

You nod your head and stand up, using the lockers as a crutch. Your coworker helps you steady yourself before she sees your shirt is ripped even more than when she left.

She whispers your name, “Are you sure he didn’t…”

“He only ripped it,” you assure her, sniffling softly, “But I can’t go out there like this.”

It dawns on you that you forgot a jacket. It was a little warmer today than it had been in days and you had simply neglected to bring one. 

“You can borrow my hoodie,” she assures, opening her locker to tug it out, handing it to you, “Go on, you can return it to me another day.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, clumsily sliding it over your head. You feel much better now that you’re covered up, you feel less vulnerable. You quickly collect all your belongings so you can leave as soon as you get this over with.

You let her lead you out of the staff room. The second you’re out, the blaring noise immediately proves to be too much. You wipe your eyes, using the sleeve of the hoodie. You make a note to wash it properly when you return it. 

You feel the eyes of strangers on you and it just makes you feel worse with every passing second. You want to go home. You want to shower. You want to crawl into bed. You want Simon. 

You let her lead you to the table, all the men are still there laughing and drinking their beers. They fall silent when you approach, four pairs of eyes falling on you, making you feel humiliated and small. They look expectant, the one who ripped your shirt tapping his fingers against the table. 

“There you are!” the one who had held your wrist grinned. It was a predatory smile that made your heart race anxiously, “Thought you were gonna run away without apologizing for bein’ a raging bitch.”

You flinch at the insult and your coworker squeezes your hand in support, “I-I’m sorry for slapping you.”

“That’s fuckin’ right!” another one jeered, “Practically ruined our night. How are you going to make it up to us?”

“I’ve got a few ideas!” a different once laughed. The other three joined in eagerly.

“How about you stay back late and really make it up to us, huh?” you squeezed your coworkers hand in yours, already feeling the tears returning with a vengeance.

“How about I bring you a round on me, huh?” she quickly intervenes, “I’ll buy.”

That seems to do it for the 4 men and they rambunctiously cheer and slam their hands on the table obnoxiously. You think you hear her promise to be back with their drinks as she pulls you away from the table. You both hide away in the staff room again and she holds both your hands in hers.

“Go on home,” she says softly.

“I-I’ll pay you back for the drinks–” she shushes you quickly when you start.

“Don’t even worry about it,” she coos, “Go home.”

With a gentle nudge to the back entrance, she casts you one last kind smile before slipping out of the staff door. 

You don’t even remember the walk home, your mind completely fuzzy. But you’re sobbing again by the time you stumble into the door. You collapse onto the floor in front of your couch, wailing into the cushions as the weight of the night fully and entirely collapses on you. You can barely breathe through your tears, hiccups and coughs breaking up the endless crying only to resume when you catch your breath. 

You have no idea how long you sit there, crying louder and harder than you have in a very, very long time. 

You hear your front door creak open before the living room light flips on. You go completely stiff, your crying finally going silent as you hear the familiar heavy footsteps step into the living room before they fall still when he sees you.

He calls your name, soft and gentle in a way that is completely unlike him. Simon isn’t soft, he talks to you in a cold, apathetic and teasing tone. He’s always clipped and blunt. Sure, he’s kind but never gentle.

Just the sweet tone makes your lips wobble and suddenly you’re sobbing again. His boots hit the floor fast, taking quick, big strides so he can reach you as fast as he possibly can. Two strong hands hook under your arms and turn you towards him. He takes a seat beside you on the floor and tugs you into lap.

You melt into his chest, secured by his embrace as he holds you. One hand cups the back of your head and the other wraps around your back. 

“You didn’t answer your phone when I called,” he explained his arrival, lips pressed to the crown of your head, “Got worried so I rushed over.”

You grip his hoodie in your hands, anchoring yourself to him as you cry and cry. He remains silent, content to hold you and let you cry out everything you’re feeling. 

Just having him there, holding you and comforting you, is enough to ease your tears until you’re just a hiccuping, sniffling mess. You’re taking those quick, stuttering gasping breaths that signify the end of your meltdown and Simon slowly eases his hold on you. 

He cups your cheek in one hand, raising your head up so he can really look at you. He rubs a thumb under your eye, wiping away your tears. He looks so concerned, brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. 

The sight of his face makes your lips wobble again, “Si…” you finally manage to choke out.

His gaze softens immediately, his other hand coming up to cup your face as well. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“You want to tell me what happened?” he finally asks, letting go of your face to hold your waist, keeping you curled up in his lap. 

You think about it. You want to tell him all about it, to get it off of your chest and figure out how the hell you’re supposed to move past it. But you know that if you tell him, he’s going to march his ass to your job the second he gets a chance and put your boss’s head through the wall and find those assholes from the table. 

You really can’t afford to lose your job. Your bills are tight enough as it is, you’re scraping by by the skin of your teeth. If you’re jobless for even a week, it’s going to fuck everything up. You’ll never make rent and you can’t end up on the street. 

“Just a…bad shift…” you supply lamely.

Simon stares at you, jaw set and tense, “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact you’re lying in the first place or the fact you don’t think you can tell me what really happened.”

“Simon…” you whine, pushing yourself off of his lap, “Just let it go, please.”

He follows your lead when you stand up. He still hasn’t taken his boots off, still too concerned about you to care. Every step he takes is a loud sound of his weight in those boots. 

You pace back and forth, arms crossed over your chest.

“I’m not letting it go,” he responds, “I think you know me better than that.”

“Simon, please!” you feel the tears returning again and you suddenly realize how tired you are from crying. Your eyes are sore and you just want to sleep. 

“I want to know what happened,” he argues, clearly growing exasperated. 

You know he’s not going to let it go. He knows you too well to believe any lies. You press your hands to your face and let out a noise of frustration and despair. You can feel his eyes on you, unwavering and firm. You feel hot, like you’re overheating and suffocated. With trembling hands, you haphazardly tug at the hoodie – you need it off or you’re going to go mad. 

Simon reaches forward to help you, watching your rising panic but you slap his hands away. He looks stupefied at your reaction but retracts his hands. 

But you can’t get the damned thing off, you’re uncoordinated and clumsy, unable to pull your arms through the sleeves so you can get it off. Why won’t it come off? 

“G-Get it off,” you finally cry, completely unaware of the pure horror in your voice.

Simon’s hands are back, “I’ve got you. I’ll get it off ya.” 

True to his word, he tugs it up and it slips over your head with ease. You feel like you can take a deep breath finally, feeling the cool air of your living room against your skin again. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to calm yourself. 

He says your name softly but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. You jump when you feel the ghost of his fingers against your stomach – the skin is bare and it makes your eyes fly open. You look down and remember that your shirt was completely torn open, the hoodie had been hiding it, and now Simon is seeing. You can see the realization in his face.

He’s not an idiot. If anything, he’s more intelligent than anyone you’ve ever known. 

Suddenly your stomach turns and you place a hand over your mouth. You’re running down the hallway, dropping to your knees in front of the toilet as you heave. 

You don’t hear any movement from Simon. He doesn’t follow you to the bathroom. You’re briefly thankful for the escape as the nausea disappears before you suddenly crave to have him near you again.

“Simon!” you cry, his footfalls an immediate response. 

He crouches beside you, placing a hand on your back, “You finished?”

You nod, spitting one last time into the toilet, “I-I want to shower.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he stands, stepping past you to turn on the shower for you. He places a consoling hand on the top of your head in passing before he goes to leave you alone. You reach out and grab his hand before he can get too far.

He pauses and looks at you, easily understanding. He brushes his thumb over your hand, “Not goin’ anywhere, love.”

He takes a step outside of the bathroom and stands there, hands held in front of him as if he were on guard, like a security guard. You flush the toilet and shakily strip your clothes off before stepping into the shower, letting the warm spray ease your sore body and clear your sinuses. You’re terribly stuffy from crying so you can’t even smell your grapefruit body wash this time.

You finish your shower, making sure you scrub your body as best you can before you step out and wrap a towel around your body.

“Are you hungry?” Simon suddenly asks.

“No…” your tone is flatter than you had intended and you realize that you’re completely emotionally drained. 

“Alright,” is all he says in reply.

You approach the door, where he’s still standing. You place your hand against his back and he quickly steps aside to let you by. You hear his boots behind you as he follows you to your bedroom. 

You sit on the bed, completely exhausted. Simon makes himself busy with going through your dresser, pulling out some clothes for you to wear before he places them on the bed beside you. You don’t make any movements. 

He sighs, softly saying your name before crouching in front of you, taking your hands in his. 

“Was it your boss?” he asks softly. 

“Him and some assholes I was serving drinks to,” you tiredly answer. You don’t have it in you to fight in anymore. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” he pries, squeezing your hands.

“Because I know you, Si,” you sniffle, “You’re going to go down there and put them all in the hospital when you find them.”

“And?” he scoffs, “They fuckin’ deserve it. No one gets to put their hands on you like that and get away with it.”

“Because I can’t lose my job, Si!” you finally cry, “I barely make ends meet as it is! I-If I lose my job, what am I supposed to do? I won’t be able to afford rent. I’ll be on the streets!”

“I would never let that happen,” he says firmly, “You will never be on the streets, love. I will always take care of you, you know that.”

“I can’t do that to you, Simon,” you mutter, sniffling again, “Y-You already have so much on your plate I don’t want to be another problem you have to deal with.”

“Is that what you think?” he scoffs, standing up, “That I deal with you? You’re important to me, I take care of you because I never want anything to happen to you. I’m not going to let you work at that shithole for a minute longer.”

You hang your head, unable to supply any arguments to him anymore.

“I’m going to make you something small to eat. You’re going to eat and drink some water and then you’re going to get some rest, understood?” he gives a satisfied hum when you nod your head in compliance. 

Once you’re alone, you go over his words again. You’re important to him, that’s what he said. It was the most clear he had ever been with his feelings towards you since you confessed your feelings when you were young. 

As you methodically got dressed in the clothes he picked out for you, you reminisced. Memories of him were always something that made you inexplicably happy – except for one memory.

You were 14 and he was 17 at the time. You’d known each other for your entire childhood after his mother had brought him over for a playdate despite the age difference and the fact you were closer in age to his brother. 

He had always looked after you and taken care of you, walking you home after school and simply looking after you when your parents were busy. It was inevitable that you would grow feelings for him. You remember the way your heart would race every time you looked at him. You remember telling your friends that he was your boyfriend, hoping he wouldn’t find out.

You had told him one evening when he was hanging out, having dinner with your family, that you liked him – like liked. 

You remember how you cried into your pillow night after night when he rejected you. Told you flat out that you were an idiot and to drop it and never, ever bring it up again. That he didn’t feel the same. And that was that. 

You never brought it up again. 

But the crush never once waned. You decided that his friendship was more important than your feelings for him so you would never let him know. And that’s how it had been ever since. 

Simon’s voice calling your name ripped you from your reminiscing. You tied the drawstrings of the sweats he had picked out and quickly made your way to the kitchen. 

Simon was washing a pan by the time you arrived but he nodded to a plate he set on the counter for you. It was just a small omelet he made, complete with a light drizzle of ketchup. 

He knew you well, you couldn’t deny. You picked up the fork he’d placed on the plate for you and slowly began to eat. 

After being sick, your stomach was painfully empty so you were happy to have something on it once again. Simon quietly finished washing the dishes he had dirtied before he placed them on the dish rack and dried his hands. 

“Um, Simon?” you called softly, receiving a grunt in reply, “Didn’t you have something going on tonight?”

“Was gonna be out the lads,” he responded, “Doesn’t matter, can hang out with those idiots anytime.”

“You shouldn’t talk about your friends like that,” you said, shaking your head as you took a final bite of your omelet.

“Aint my friends,” he reached down and took your plate from you, tossing it into the sink.

“Simon Riley doesn’t have friends?” you asked, eyes following him as he locked up your apartment and started to turn out the lights.

“Got you,” he said as you followed him down the hall, “All I need.”

A fond smile made its way across your face as he yanked his shirt above his head. You began to make yourself comfortable in bed, trying to keep your eyes off of him as he got dressed for bed. Despite the way you wanted to take the chance to look at him.

Friends. That’s what you were, you reminded yourself. 

Finally, he climbed into bed beside you, making himself comfortable before you turned out the light. 

Yet, despite your exhaustion from the night, you felt like you couldn’t close your eyes. You felt like you couldn’t relax. The tension in your body was so much that you were sore. Like you had gone to the gym instead of went to work. 

“Simon..?” you whispered into the dark. He was silent for a second before he hummed in response, “Can I…tell you what happened tonight?”

He was quiet again but you felt him move, a hand blindly reaching over to you to find your hands. You took it in both of yours, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. 

“This stupid group of guys were sloshed beyond belief,” you began to tell him, aware of his gaze on you through the dark, “They were just chattin’ shit, saying they’d tip me if I showed them my tits,” he scoffed beside you, clearly displeased, “I said no and tried to leave and they wouldn’t let me. One of them ripped my shirt and tried to pull my bra up so I slapped him.”

“Fuckin’ bastard deserved to get his teeth knocked down his throat,” Simon growled from beside you.

“I got away and went to the staff room but my boss came in and he was so fucking angry, Si,” your voice shook as you remembered the way his face had been so red and a look of pure hate had been in his eyes, “He grabbed my throat and pinned against the lockers. He was angry that I had struck a customer.”

“Of course that’s all that bastard would be angry about,” Simon spit, not bothering to hide his distaste.

“I tried to tell him that I was defending myself but he said–” your voice broke and you struggled to blink back the tears. Simon sat up a bit, pulling you into his chest, letting you curl against him, the rapid hum of his heart loud in your ear, easing you immediately, “He said that he didn’t care if they put me over the table and fucked me, he would fire me if I didn’t apologize to them.”

Simon’s arms tightened around you immediately, cursing under his breath, “He made you apologize to them?” 

You nod your head, “It was so humiliating, Si. B-But I just didn’t want to lose my job. They just laughed at me and made a joke of it.”

“Pieces of shit,” he hisses, pressing a kiss against your temple, “They better hope I don’t find them.”

You’d really love to see them blubbering on their knees, crying and terrified like you had been. They wouldn’t be so awful in the face of a guy bigger and stronger than them – someone like Simon. 

“I should have gone to the bar tonight,” he sighed, “Even though you told me not to, I wanted to.”

“It’s okay, Si,” you sniffle, “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

You wrap your leg around his waist and snuggle deeper into his chest, finally feeling content to sleep so long as you got to be in his arms. 

You wake up late, well into the afternoon. You’re groggy and struggle to pull yourself out of bed. Simon isn’t in bed, so you force yourself up in search of him. 

As you left, you noticed that the clothes you were wearing last night were gone and weren’t in the laundry basket. You knew for a fact that you left them on the floor. 

He’s relaxing on the couch as usual. His hair is wet and you can smell your body wash wafting off of him when you crawl onto the couch beside him. He reaches a hand out and pets your head gently as a greeting.

“Sleep well?” he asks. You nod your head, “Hungry?” You nod again.

He huffs through his nose and stands up, pressing a fleeting kiss to the top of your head to go prepare something for you to eat. The sound of Simon bustling about the kitchen filled the apartment and you found yourself relaxing into the couch. 

“Simon?” you called, getting to your feet to make your way to the kitchen. 

He had his back to you as he fried up something in the pan but he hummed in response nonetheless.

“Where did my clothes from last night go?” you ask softly.

He pauses his stirring of the food, “Threw them out. Figured you wouldn’t want to see them when you woke up.”

“Oh,” you respond. 

Your heart feels full at his show of care. It was quiet actions like that that just made you feel so…in love, you think before correcting yourself. Fluttery. Cared for. Loved. 

No, he doesn’t love you.

You shake your head and move to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, going to sit on the couch to wait for Simon to finish cooking. 

The day was spent like that, just you and Simon in your flat. Him just keeping you company and keeping your mind off of things. 

You were curled up against him, listening to the beating of his heart and watching the movie he had decided to play. It was peaceful. He smelled nice, like you. And he was so comfortable beneath you, firm and big. 

His thighs were spread wide, one of your legs thrown over one of his, only serving to make you more aware of how big and firm he was. Solid. Well-built. 

Handsome.

You cast a glance at his face. His brown eyes were half-lidded as he mindlessly nibbled at his bottom lip. They looked soft and shiny. You wondered what he tasted like, how he kissed.

Was he rough? Soft? Did he like to use tongue. 

You’d never kissed anyone before. You wondered if he would be okay with that. You knew some guys liked experienced partners and some liked them inexperienced. You wonder what he preferred. 

Just the idea of kissing him had your heart hammering in your chest and your face burning. You quickly looked at the TV, snuggling closer to him. He squeezed you closer, hand mindlessly rubbing up and down your back. 

Kissing Simon…you pictured him over you, cupping your cheeks in the way he always does. You imagine him pressing his pretty lips against yours, moving them softly against yours. You imagine what it would feel like for him to pin you down, sliding his tongue into your mouth as you moaned and whimpered beneath him, unable to move anywhere because he’s so much bigger and stronger than you. In charge. 

Your pussy clenches around nothing, already starting to drip into your panties. Suddenly you sit up, eyes wide and cheeks flush. Simon looks perturbed, an eyebrow raised at your sudden movement.

“I’ve got to take a shower,” you shakily supply before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hand over your mouth to quiet your heavy breathing. 

What the hell was wrong with you? How the hell could you be thinking about sex and getting turned on after yesterday? How could you be thinking about Simon like that when he was right there? What the fuck was your problem?

You hastily reached over and turned the shower on, the pipes clanking loudly as the water flowed through them. 

Shouldn’t you be the opposite of horny after what happened yesterday? Maybe you really were broken. 

You strip and quickly step into the shower, turning the water as hot as it would possibly go. You needed it to hurt so you would stop acting like such a freak. Like a slut. 

You fight back tears as you begin to wash up. 

By the time your shower is done, you’re exhausted again. You dry off and wrap the towel around yourself, opening the door to find Simon standing on the other side. You jump and gasp, placing a hand over your heart to calm the beating.

“You scared me!” you whine, slipping past him to the bedroom.

“Wanted to check on you,” he says, following slowly behind you, watching as you pick out clothes.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “I just got really tired and I’d like to turn in early, that’s all.”

“Alright,” he replies, standing there for a second before making his way back to the door, “Just call if you need anything.”

“I will!” you offer him a smile, watching as he leaves, closing the door behind him. 

You quickly dress and climb into bed, turning the lights out before squeezing your eyes shut to will yourself to sleep. Surprisingly, it came quickly and easily – maybe you were more tired than you thought. 

Little did you know that Simon took the opportunity of you sleeping early to slip away and take a little 15 minute walk. 

When you start to dream, you’re acutely aware that it’s a dream. You’re not sure how but, you just know that you’re sleeping and none of this is real.

But god it feels real and you want it to be real so you go along with it. 

Simon is there, you’re both in your bed. He’s got his shirt off and he’s on top of you, kissing your neck softly. Sweetly. 

He doesn’t smell like your body wash anymore, he smells like his – a crisp, musky scent that you love so dearly. And he’s so warm against you. 

You realize that you’re only wearing a pair of panties when his lips suddenly attach to your breast, mouthing at your nipple. His tongue swirls over the bud and it feels so good you can’t help but moan. 

“Si…” you sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. He rewards you by surging up and pressing his lips against yours. He tastes vaguely like mint and it’s intoxicating. So simple, nothing special or poetic. Just mint. Simon. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and eagerly kiss him back. Kissing is easy, you hazily think. You just move your lips in time with his and it falls into place. 

Simon’s hips move against yours and you cry out when you feel the hard swell of his cock press against you through his sweatpants and your panties. He’s so hard and it's so hot even through the layers of clothes. 

“Si…” you whimper again.

“I’m here, love,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”

He rocks his hips against yours and fuck, it feels good. You eagerly spread your legs and find yourself wishing that the panties weren’t in the way. You’d love to hear the sticky sound of your pussy against his cock through his sweats. You’d love to see the stain of your slick against them, knowing that you marked him as yours like that. 

You feel hot, that tense warmth growing in your tummy. The promise of pleasure that you’ve never been able to experience. Maybe Simon could supply it. You’re sure he could, actually, you convince yourself.

If he just keeps going, keeps rutting his hips like that, you could cum all messy in your panties. Just for him. Only for him. 

Just as you swear it’s going to wash over you, your eyes fly open and you gasp. Your entire body feels hot and sweaty and you realize you’ve thrown your blanket off of your body. The sun is shining through the window and Simon is nowhere to be seen in bed. 

You swallow, your throat feeling painfully dry. 

Suddenly, the bedroom door creaks open and Simon comes in with a laundry basket. He casts a glance at you and seems to relax when he realizes you’re awake.

“Was doin’ some laundry,” he explains, turning to open your drawers to begin putting the clean clothes away.

“Oh,” you whisper, sounding hoarse, “Thank you, Si.”

As you watch him, you realize he seems tenser than usual. You sit up and bed and watch him put the clothes away until he’s finished. He stands there for a moment before looking over his shoulder at you.

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I’ve gotta go tonight.”

“Go?” you ask, eyes going wide. You don’t want him to leave, “Go where?”

“I’ve got some work to take care of,” he replies, “Paperwork I’ve been puttin’ off. Gonna pull a late one to get it done.”

“I-I don’t want you to go,” you confess softly, trying to blink back the tears that sting your eyes. You feel so pathetic, crying because he needs to leave. But you haven’t been without him since it happened and you’re scared to be alone with just your thoughts.

“I know,” he hums, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, cupping your cheek, “I’ll just be a call away, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” you ask. He nods, teasingly pinching your cheek before you smile and bat his hand away. When he pulls it back you notice his knuckles – bruised and split open. They weren’t like that last night you were sure of it, “Simon…”

He catches you looking and gives you a tense smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

He stands up and kisses your forehead before turning and leaving the room, leaving you to get ready for the day. 

Thankfully, Simon remains around for the day. You notice he’s on his phone a lot more, typing away. It’s unlike him, he’s more the type to do phone calls rather than text. When you ask him about it he just waves you off with an explanation about Soap being on his ass. 

You have a feeling he’s lying but you don’t pry. 

Before he leaves, he makes you dinner. You walk him to the door, unable to stop the pout on your face when he puts his boots on. You can’t help but wish that he’d change his mind at the last second and stay with you after all. 

But he doesn’t. He pulls his balaclava over his face and slips his hood up before turning back to you. 

“Don’t cry, love,” he coos, wiping a stray tear away, “I promise I’ll get all my work done and I’ll be all yours for a good long while.”

“Okay…” you sound so miserable but you can’t bring yourself to care, “I’ll miss you.”

He brings you in for a hug, making sure to squeeze you nice and tight before he pulls back. He can’t give you his normal kiss because of the mask and that only makes you sadder. 

You don’t want him to go. You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay. You want to keep him close. He makes you feel safe. He makes you feel complete. You love him so much. 

You hold onto his hoodie for as long as you can until he has to shake you off and close the door behind him. And you stand there for a long time. Like a puppy who's been left home alone for the first time, just waiting for its owners to come back because it’s scared it’s going to be alone forever. 

By the time you bring yourself to leave the door, the food Simon made you is cold. That only seems to make you feel worse. 

Then you sit on the couch and watch TV, feeling hopelessly alone. You wished you had Simon to curl into and snuggle with. The tiny couch has never felt bigger. 

You shower and brush your teeth, pouting at the sight of his toothbrush, another reminder that he isn’t there. 

Before that night at the bar, you never would have felt so isolated without him; lonely, sure. But now that you’re experiencing this gut-wrenching emptiness, you feel close to tears every time you think about him. He was truly your rock, the only thing that brought you comfort. You loved him.

You flop against the bed and let the tears fall down your temples. You love him. You do.

You’re so fucking in love with him that it hurts. Your heart aches in your chest. You want him there to hold you. 

You know he doesn’t feel the same, you know it will never become anything. But you’re willing to take whatever you can get. Just his company. You can be content so long as he’s with you, as long as he’s in your life. 

But you can think about him, imagine yourself telling him how you feel. Imagine that when he holds you close that he feels the same too. That he loves you. You want him to love you so desperately. 

You wish that he loved you. 

You curled into his pillow, sniffling pathetically as you closed your eyes. You cry yourself to sleep. 

Your eyes fly open and the gasp you let out changes to a sob. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. All you see is flashes of their faces in your head. All you can feel are their hands on you. 

A nightmare, your brain supplies but it does nothing to quell your anxiety and fear.

You reach for Simon, instinctive and desperate. But you only touch the cold mattress and you’re reminded that he isn’t home tonight. 

You fumble through the sheets to find your phone.

I’ll just be a call away, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there. 

He promised.

You can barely see the screen as you look for his contact. You call him, hands trembling as you hold it to your ear. It rings and rings and rings. Then beeps and goes to voicemail.

You hang up and try again. And again. And again.

He doesn’t answer. Why won’t he answer? He promised.

You call him again but it goes straight to voicemail. You can practically feel your heart shatter in your chest. He was ignoring your calls. He ignored you. 

But he had promised he would come when you needed him. And you needed him. 

Your phone becomes completely blurry through your tears as you begin to cry in earnest. You feel hurt, betrayed, disappointed, and angry. You’re fucking angry. 

You suddenly need to let it out. So you take your phone in your hand and throw it, listening to it slam against the wall. It’s loud and the light on your screen goes out. But you don’t feel better. You’re still a mess of volatile emotions. It feels like it’s all bottled up inside you and it hurts. 

You take his pillow and grip it in your fists. You want to rip it to shreds, want to tear it open and release all your anger on it. Instead, you just slam your fists against it. 

Then you do it again. And again. And again. 

You punch the damned thing as you cry and cry. You’re sure you must be a sight. You must be making so much noise as you sob and shriek. 

You were angry at what happened to you, you were angry you had apologize to them for hurting you, you were angry because you couldn’t even sleep peacefully without being plagued by a nightmare the first night you were without Simon, and you were angry he broke his fucking promise. 

Before long, all you were doing was sobbing into his pillow – wailing and crying your broken heart out. You tire yourself out, completely exhausted of all emotions. You lay there, quietly hiccuping and sniffling, just staring into the inky darkness. 

You’re there for hours, unable to fall back asleep. The sun slowly creeps over the horizon and begins to cast an orange glow around the room. 

You can’t even find beauty in it. You’re so exhausted. Your heart aches. It’s agonizing. 

It’s early morning by the time you hear your front door open. You don’t feel excited to see him. You’re not happy he’s back. You don’t feel anything, actually. All you can do is slowly blink, gaze focused outside the window where you can faintly hear birds chirping. 

You wish you were a bird so you could fly away wherever you want. You would fly away from here right now if you could. You wanted to leave. 

You didn’t want to see Simon. You were so angry at him. You’ve never felt like this about him before. You don’t know what to do. All you can think right now is how much you hate him. 

God, you hate him. 

He’s surprisingly quiet as he walks through your apartment. You hear him push the door open, your back to him. But you can feel his eyes on you, can feel how he hovers in the doorway. 

He wanders further into the room before pausing. 

He rounds to your side of the bed and sees that you’re awake, simply staring out the window. He holds your phone up, screen clearly shattered before he places it on the table beside you. 

“You called,” he says softly, shifting anxiously on his feet. Simon’s never anxious. But he is right now, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I was just…busy. Had some unruly recruits, you know how it is.”

Your eyes finally move from the window, landing on him. He’s wearing the same thing he was last night. Just some jeans and white t-shirt. It’s a nice one, it fits him well and it looks comfy. 

Simon stands there under your gaze, growing increasingly uncomfortable. He’s not used to feeling scrutinized. And that’s exactly what your gaze feels like. 

Your eyes wander to a strange discoloration on his shirt. It’s tan, just a light stain. There’s a tiny smear of black as well. Then you spot the red on his collar, ruby red. 

He looks guilty. He would look like a kicked puppy if you didn’t know any better. This isn’t guilt because he missed your call. He’s guilty because he was too busy getting his dick wet to answer you. 

That’s why he ignored you? To fuck someone?

You’re no longer numb. You’re angry again. That overwhelming feeling that you have no idea how to let out. It’s like it just boils up inside you, like a pot boiling over. It has no place to go but out. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to register it. You just need to show him how angry you are. Fucking furious. 

You grab the empty glass on your nightstand and wail it in his direction harder than you thought possible. Simon barely dodges, slamming himself against the wall as it shatters behind him. 

Now he looks angry. Good. Maybe he’ll feel a fraction of what you feel right now. 

“Are you out of your fucking head?” he snarls, animosity dripping off of every syllable. 

You don’t even answer, grabbing a book that you have stacked there before throwing that too. Then the second book. Then the third book. Then you throw your phone at him. Then you take the lamp, rip the plug right from the wall and throw that too. 

When you’re out of things to throw on the table you throw your pillow. It’s when you’re about to throw his pillow that he finally has enough. He rips it from your grasp and tosses it across the room. 

He’s standing there, fists balled at his sides and his shoulders heaving up and down as he tries to calm himself. 

“I hate you,” you finally spit, standing on your knees. You don’t have anything to throw so you slam your hands against his chest. You hit him, crying and sobbing as you wail over and over about how you hate him. You hate him so fucking much. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” you scream. You’re so loud you’re sure the neighbors can hear but you don’t care. It feels good to let your anger out on him, to punch and slap and claw at his shoulders, chest, and arms. He doesn’t do anything but stand there and let you. He’d never lay a hand on you, even when you’re doing it to him, “I needed you and you were too busy fucking some stupid whore?!”

He doesn’t say anything but he’s trembling now. You’re not sure if he’s just that angry or if he’s holding himself back from wringing your neck. 

You pause to look up at him. His jaw is set hard but he’s staring at you, his usual lazy, lidded look nowhere to be found. He looks enraged. 

“Aren’t you going to say something?” you spit, raising your hand as if you’re going to slap him across the face but you stop. You don’t want to do that. 

“Say what?” he finally responds, voice so cold you swear it drops the room’s temperature, “I have a life that doesn’t revolve around you. That’s the difference between us. You need me but I don’t need you.”

You sit back on your heels at that, the hurt clear on your face. Simon doesn’t seem to care in the slightest now, as tears trickle down your face. You must look a sight, pathetically gazing up at him as he glares down at you like you’re dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.

“You hate me?” he scoffs, “That’s just fine. We’ll see how long you last without me before you’re hanging from a bloody rope.”

He turns on his heel at that and storms out of your room, slamming your bedroom door behind him. It practically rattles the walls. Then you hear the same thing from the front door. 

And you’re all alone. And you can’t do anything but cry about it. 

You find it impossible to get out of bed after that. You lay there for the rest of the day. Then all night. You fitfully sleep when you can’t bear to be awake anymore and then wake when the nightmares hit. 

Then you watch the sun come up and decide that it’s a good day to spend in bed. So you do. You sleep on and off, only waking to cry when you’re plagued with nightmares. 

You occasionally think about Simon. More than occasionally, actually. He’s always on your mind.

You think everything over and come to the conclusion that this was all your fault. From the beginning, really. You’d been keen on staying in his life since you were children, attached yourself to his side and weaseled your way into his life. Really, you gave him no choice but to put up with you. 

He was everything to you. He was right, you needed him. You didn’t have anyone else. No friends, no family, not even a pet. Just him. Always just him. 

What choice did he have other than to put up with you day after day? He didn’t need you like you needed him, after all. He’d surely been spending his days in dread of you – of your texts, your calls. 

This was probably what he was waiting for; an escape. He probably wanted to leave a long, long time ago. You were in love with him and he wanted nothing to do with you. 

What were you thinking? Actually believing that he would want to spend his days with you, taking care of you. Who were you kidding, you were just an idiot for letting yourself believe otherwise. 

You wake up one day and realize you’re not angry anymore. Just sad. You almost prefer the anger and emptiness compared to the unending waves of sadness. 

You cry all the time. Day and night. 

You try to use your phone, you want to call him but it’s broken. The screen won’t even turn on. You’re completely alone, can’t even contact somebody – not that you have anyone but him. 

God, that was embarrassing now that you thought about it. There he was going out and getting laid and you’ve been holding out for him since you were a kid. 

You’re suddenly aware of the fact you haven’t showered in days. You’ve barely eaten, only getting up once or twice to find something to nibble on in the kitchen – a slice of bread is what you usually settle on. 

You pry yourself up from your mattress and stumble to the bathroom. The clanging of pipes is louder than it’s ever been but the hot water is completely welcome. 

When you stand there, under the burning heat that makes your skin raw, you slowly sink to the shower floor. You haven’t cleaned it in a while but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You let yourself cry again, since it’s all you can do. By the time you’re done, the water is running cold and you stand up to quickly wash yourself with soap so you can at least be clean for the next few days until you can bring yourself to shower again. 

It’s when you’re crawling into bed that it suddenly dawns on you that you don’t have a job. You hadn’t shown up to your shift in days. And you don’t have Simon anymore. 

Panic takes shape and you realize you can’t relax. If you don’t find a job soon you’re going to be on your ass and homeless by next month. 

You haul yourself out of bed and begin rooting through your drawers for something to wear. 

Maybe you can go back to the bar and beg for your job back. You’ll do anything if you have to. 

You’re going to prove to yourself and to Simon that you’ll make it without him – and you won’t end up hanging from a fucking rope. 

The sunlight practically burns your skin from not feeling it in a while. Winter is coming in and it’s already damn cold out and you can see your breath. But you ignore it, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself as you book it for the bar. 

You’re filled with utter dread as soon as you open the door. There’s a couple patrons already drinking and you wonder what day it is. 

You look around, searching for your old boss. He’s nowhere on the floor so you make your way to the staff room and ultimately his office in the very back. 

You only realize you’re trembling when you raise your hand to knock on the door. But you bite back your fear when you’re reminded that you need the job. You need it. 

“Enter,” you hear his chilling voice call. You take a breath and push the door open. He freezes the second he lays eyes on you, he sports a black eye and a busted lip, “You.” 

“M-Mr. Dawson,” you shakily whisper, “I-I know I haven’t showed up in a few days and I’m really sorry but–”

“You want your job back,” he finishes, tossing his head back to laugh, “You want your fucking job back? After you sent that fucking lunatic here?”

“Sent who…?” you ask softly, willing your knees to stop quaking. 

“That asshole in the skull mask. Beat the shit out of me and my blasted customers. You think I’m going to let you back in after that?” he laughs again, “You’re out of your fucking mind, you dumb bitch.”

You wince at the insult, “I-I didn’t send him. H-He was a friend of mine and he did it on his own but–”

“You can have your job back,” he says suddenly, making you freeze, “If you come over here and bend over my desk for me.”

“What..?” you ask softly, watching him sit back and lick his lips as his eyes raked down your body.

“You heard me,” he snickers, “Bend over my desk and let me fuck you and I’ll let you have your job back.”

Granted, for a second, you think about it. You really do. To just let him do it. But you can’t. You know you can't, you would never do that to yourself. 

“N-No,” you find yourself whispering, “I won’t do that…”

His smile fades quickly when you say that and his lip curls in disgust and anger, “Should have let those blokes take you out back and leave you bloody in the alleyway like you deserve.”

You leave with your head hanging low and find yourself standing on the street, fighting tears. You only feel worse than before you went in. 

When you get home, you stand there and cry. That’s all you’ve been doing lately, crying. At this rate, Simon’s prophecy is going to come true and you’re going to be hanging from a damn rope. It sounds nice right about now, actually. Anything to stop the horrific pain that you feel. 

You crawl back into bed and don’t get back up that night. Or the next day. 

The only thing that gets you up the day after that is a painful twang in your stomach. You stumble your way to the kitchen and pull out the loaf of bread you’ve been nibbling at but frown when you see some pieces have begun to mold. 

You take a look in the fridge, finding it painfully empty. The vegetables and fruits that were in there have gone bad now. The meat you had bought was all used up from when Simon cooked. You didn’t even have any cup ramens because you opted to not buy any last time. 

So you resort yourself to tearing the moldy parts off the bread and eating what's left. 

As you stand there, you realize you feel so tired. Like your legs can’t hold you up, so you allow yourself to sink to the floor, back leaning against the cabinet. 

You almost want to laugh at yourself over what you’ve become. Eating moldy bread on the kitchen floor and crying to yourself. 

You place the bread in the refrigerator in hopes that that will stop its rotting process but you don’t have much hope. 

Then, you’re back in bed. And you’re so exhausted. It’s impossible to keep your eyes open any longer. So you sleep. 

But then you have another nightmare. You can’t even remember what it was about, you’re too exhausted to even jolt awake like you usually do. 

Instead, your eyes open and they’re already filled with tears before you even get the chance to register the fact you’re awake. 

So you lay like that. For a long time. Just staring at nothing. The tears stop on their own and you’re left exhausted as usual. It’s become your default state and you begin to wonder if you’re going to feel this broken and hurt forever. 

You zone out, letting your mind go hazy and erase all thoughts from it. 

You don’t even hear your front door open. Don’t hear the boots on the floor. Don’t hear your bedroom door open. 

You hear a call of your name and that gets your attention. But you don’t hear anything else. 

Your imagination? You don’t have a lamp anymore to turn on. You’d thrown it at Simon and it broke.

Suddenly, light floods your bedroom and you bolt up in bed. A large, familiar figure blocks your doorway, a silhouette against the now illuminated hallway. 

He calls your name again and your heart skips a beat. 

“Si?” you whisper, choking on a sob when he steps further into the room. 

He’s got you gathered up in his arms faster than you can think. He’s so warm and it feels so good to have him in your arms again. You wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him – hold him so fiercely that you’re worried you may actually break him. 

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, “It’s alright, everything’s alright.”

“S-Simon…” you can’t help but wail, clawing at the back of his hoodie as if you can feel him any closer than he already was. 

“I’m here,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head, “I’m here. It’s okay. Shit, just let it out. I fucked up, sweetheart, I did. Just breathe and we’ll make everything better, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself apologizing through tears, “I-I don’t hate you, Si. I don’t, I promise. I-I was just mad. I’m sorry I was mean.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he consoles you, cupping the back of your head as you sob, “I’m the one who fucked everything up. It was a fuckin’ mistake.”

You can’t even formulate a response, too choked up with your cries that you let out into the soft cotton of his hoodie. You feel nothing but relief at having him in your arms again, you’re almost scared that he’s going to disappear if you let go. 

But he stays there, shushing you and occasionally kissing the top of your head as he rocks you back and forth on the bed. 

Before long, your cries finally quiet and you’re left curled up against him, quietly sniffling to yourself. His grip on you remains firm, unwilling to let you go. 

After several, long minutes, he finally speaks, “Why don’t you go wash up, hm? Nice, hot, shower. I’ll fix you up some food, sound good?”

You sniffle and blearily look up at him, your lashes sticking together from your dried tears, “I don’t have anything.”

“I’ll make you some ramen cups,” he responds. 

He doesn’t like them being part of your diet but it seems he was willing to overlook it just this once so could get something on your stomach. 

“Don’t have any,” you sound completely congested as you talk, sitting up a little to wipe your cheeks.

“None?” he asks, keeping his hands on your body even as you move off of his lap. 

You shake your head, “I didn’t buy any last time I went shopping.”

“What the hell have you been eating then?” he mumbles, slowly standing up from the bed. 

You wince when you hear his knees and back pop from the movement, “I haven’t had much of an appetite but I’ve got some bread…”

Simon is silent after that, nonsensically looking around the room, seemingly taking stock of what's around him. Then he sighs, running a hand through his cropped hair before patting you on the head.

“I’ll order then,” he assures you, “Go ahead and shower, yeah?”

You do as you’re told, eager to wash the drying tears off of your face and hopefully wash away the lingering sadness. You know that you and Simon have a lot to talk about, but you figure it can wait until you’re both mentally prepared for it. 

You feel more refreshed than you have in days when you step out of the shower. You feel a surge of anxiety in your chest when you think maybe he had left while you were showering but when you pause to really listen, you can hear him shuffling about the flat. 

When you slip into your bedroom, you’re shocked to see that your bed has been completely stripped. He also swept up the broken remnants of the glass and lamp you had thrown at him and picked up the books. He had picked up some scattered pieces of clothes and put them in the laundry basket where they belonged. 

You get yourself dressed and place your dirty clothes in the basket so you don’t undo the work that Simon had done. 

You hear a knock on your door and it makes you jump but Simon quickly answers it. He calls your name to let you know the food has arrived and you quickly make your way to the kitchen. 

He’s methodically separating the food he had ordered into two separate groups, clearly having ordered for himself as well. 

It smells positively delicious and you find your mouth watering as your stomach growls. 

You turn to the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of water out of it. You notice that the loaf of bread you had in there is gone, most likely thrown out by Simon when he realized it was moldy.

You feel your cheeks burn in shame when you imagine him knowing that you had been eating moldy bread because you couldn’t afford to buy groceries – although, even if you had all the money in the world, you were sure you wouldn’t have felt like going out to get any. You wouldn’t have been able to order since you’d broken your phone. 

You open the styrofoam tray and immediately start devouring the chicken tenders he had ordered for you. It was simple, easy, and tasty. He clearly didn’t want to order you anything too hefty given the fact you’ve been existing on bread. 

He had a burger, taking slow bites of it and occasionally nibbling at his fries. You took the opportunity to look him over. 

He honestly looked the same as ever. He didn’t have dark circles or bags under his eyes like you did. He didn’t have red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes from crying for days. For some reason that made a pang of resentment surge through you. He seemed completely unbothered by everything that had happened. Unbothered, even. 

His words ring out through your head like a bell. 

“We’ll see how long you last without me before you’re hanging from a bloody rope.”

Tears sting the back of your eyes again but you bite them back, choosing to take a bite of your french fries. You realize now that you can hear the washing machine going. Clearly, he had put your bedding in there to wash. 

Maybe he was right, you couldn’t survive without him. Couldn’t even wash your own damn laundry. 

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he interrupts your self-deprecating thoughts. 

“Oh, um,” you scramble to think of what to say. Something not depressing or something that could upset him, “I was just wondering what you’ve been up to these few days!”

You try your hardest to sound chipper and interested. You’re positive he doesn’t buy the act in the slightest from the soft, pained look he gives you. But he thankfully plays along. You’re grateful because you don’t want to cry again.

“I was uh,” he cleared his throat and took a sip of water, “I was on base, actually. Nothin’ interesting, really. What, uh, what about you?”

You feel your smile falter and you look down at your food, “Nothing interesting. Tried to get my job back but that was a bust,” you chuckled, playing it off like a goofy anecdote, “Turns out your ex-boss doesn’t like when he gets beat to shit because of you!”

Simon drops his burger into his tray and his nonchalant expression turns sour in half a second, “You tried to go back to work at that shithole? Why the fuck would you do that? You know it’s not good for you!”

All over again, you feel your body flush with anger, and you’re shouting at him before you know it, “What the fuck was I supposed to do, Simon?! You left and I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to do without you. I assumed you were gone forever,” you voice pathetically broke but you ignored it, tearfully glaring at him, “All you said was that I was gonna end up killing myself and I was doing everything in my power to prove you wrong.”

“You should have known me better than that!” he shouted, slamming his hands on the countertop, “I never would have left you–”

“That’s exactly what you did!” you shriek, pointing an accusing finger at him, “You left me! You ignored me when I needed you to go get laid and then left like I was nothing to you! Look at you for fuck’s sake, I’m a fucking wreck and you look like you couldn’t have fared better! I almost let that scumbag fuck me just to get my fucking job back, Simon! All because you left me.”

For once in his life, Simon seems utterly lost for words. The only sound in the small kitchen was the steady dripping of your leaky sink and you’re stuttering, sharp breaths as you force yourself to not break down all over again. 

“I should have known you better?” you whisper, resting your hands on the countertop, hanging your head so you can catch your breath, “Apparently I should have. Maybe then I would have known better to depend on you like that.”

Simon stands there, across the counter from you but feeling like he was miles away. You could hear his breathing stutter every few seconds, like he was gearing up to say something but he seemingly changed his mind every time. 

The washing machine jingle rang through the apartment and he immediately stepped away. 

Typical. Simon was never the type to truly let himself be emotionally vulnerable so there was no reason for you to expect it now. 

With him out of the room, you took the chance to wind yourself down, taking a few more bites of your tenders. You could hear Simon moving the laundry to the dryer, slamming it closed before turning it on. 

But he doesn’t reappear, evidently hiding out in the tiny room off the kitchen where your washer and dryer were. He was probably collecting himself just like you. But he appears a second later, lingering out of the corner of your eye. You can see him looking at you but you can’t bear to look back at him.

“I didn’t…” he pauses, taking a breath, “I wasn’t…” he lets out a sound of frustration before he tries again, “I wasn’t okay while I was gone.” 

He doesn’t say anything more. It was evident that that was all he was willing to give up in the moment. But you want more from him, you need more. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get past this, Simon,” you whisper, “Everything’s so fucked up. I’m fucked up.”

“I am too,” he says softly, drumming his fingers against the counter, “We’ll fix it.”

His assurance marks the end of the conversation and you both resume eating the dinner he had ordered. But it’s silent and neither of you make an attempt to fill it. 

Once the food is eaten, you take a seat on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest as Simon takes your laundry basket from your bedroom and puts the clothes in the washer. 

Your eyelids feel heavy and you wish so desperately that you could crawl into bed and sleep. You suddenly realize that you have no idea what time it is. 

“Simon?” you call out when you catch him passing by. He stops at your calling, raising an inquisitive brow, “What time is it?”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, unlocking it so he can see, “9:20.”

“Oh…” you respond, tucking your head back into your knees. 

Simon walks away at that and you briefly wonder what he’s doing now. But your eyelids are so heavy and you’re finding it so hard to think clearly. 

You’re pulled from your sleep a soft hand petting over your head. Your eyes slowly drift open and you’re met with Simon’s sweet, brown eyes. 

“Made your bed,” he says so softly, thumbing over your cheek, “Go ahead and get some proper sleep.”

You nod your head and sit up, briefly wondering how you managed to flop over on your side without waking up. Simon takes your hands and helps you to your feet.

You stumble down the hallway and immediately toss yourself onto your bed. You don’t even bother to crawl under the blanket, simply drop your head onto the pillow and let sleep overcome you. 

When you wake up next, it’s from a nightmare. You gasp into consciousness, eyes wide open in the inky blackness of your bedroom. Your heart pounds in your ears and you find yourself panting, trying to stabilize yourself. 

A heavy weight tosses itself over your middle and you almost panic before you smell Simon’s cologne. Immediately, you relax and sink back into the bed. 

“You’re okay,” he whispers, voice thick with sleep, “I’ve got you.”

“I want it to stop,” you find yourself whispering, feeling so utterly exhausted, “The nightmares.”

Simon tugs you over to him, tucking you securely against his chest, his arm like a heavy weight draped across your abdomen, “We’ll get you fixed up.”

As you close your eyes and sink into his embrace, all you can think is that you should have never been broken in the first place. 

You finally sleep through the night but you wake up feeling far from refreshed. What’s most shocking is that you’re still wrapped up in Simon’s arms – and he’s still asleep. The sun is well risen now, he should have been up and about a while ago. He never strays from his schedule.

You find yourself staring at him. It wasn’t often that you got the chance to see him so peaceful. His lashes were so long, brushing his cheeks. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart and the deep sound of his breathing. Your eyes slowly drift closed again and you let yourself drift off to sleep once more. 

When you wake up next, it’s because Simon is trying to carefully move you off of his chest so he can get up. You whine and find yourself clinging to him again.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mutters, settling back against the headboard. He wraps his arms around you and lets you melt against him again, your head resting against his chest.

“You slept late,” you find yourself commenting.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat and softly rubs your back, “I haven’t had the chance to sleep much. Base is pretty loud.”

You want to mention that it’s never been a problem for him before but you bite it back. Instead, you hum in response. 

As you’re left in the still quietness of the late morning with him, you realize that you still have no idea how you feel about him. You don’t know how you feel about him being back. On one hand, you’ve missed him so, so dearly and you feel so complete with him by your side. You feel safer and more whole, like you could actually start healing again. 

But on the other hand, there feels like there’s a wall separating you two. The fight you two had is a heavy weight that seems to continuously pull you under the water despite how hard you fight to resurface for air. 

You love him, you really do. 

But you’re still so angry at him. 

And it feels like neither of you are going to actually talk about it properly. 

The two of you eventually make it out of bed and get moving around. You still don’t have any groceries but Simon simply orders something for breakfast again.

“Somethin’ I need to ask you,” he says, suddenly terrifyingly serious as the two of you stand in the kitchen eating.

Anxiety flares through you but you try to appear calm and cool, “About?”

“You said that,” he takes a second to collect himself, seemingly searching for the right words, “You almost slept with that guy for your job back.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, “Yeah…what about it?” 

Simon paused when he heard the defensiveness in your voice, “You really almost did that?”

You frown, “So what? I can do what I want, Simon.”

He sighs softly, holding his hands up, “I’m not tryin’ to fight, love.”

“I don’t know why it’s your business,” you mumble, using annoyance to hide the shame you feel, “I just needed a job is all.”

He nods, “You don’t need to worry about that, alright. I’ve got you.”

You take a bite of your sandwich, intent on trying to take the attention off of you, “There’s something I wanted to ask you too.”

“Go ahead,” he says softly, sipping on the drink he ordered – some kind of soda if you had to guess.

“That night…” you start, pausing when you notice the way he stiffens immediately. He plays it off by going back to his food, “You, um, you left to hook up with someone, right?”

He places his sandwich down and sighs, “Yeah.”

“...Why?” you finally ask, “I mean…”

You trail off and Simon remains silent. The tension is so thick you could practically see it between the two of you. Your heart hammers in your chest, anxiety steadily festering the longer he’s quiet. You think he isn’t going to respond at all and start to give up, hanging your head. 

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” he finally says, “It was a…last minute choice and it shouldn’t have happened.”

He says it but you don’t feel any relief. That concrete weight on your chest isn’t eased in the slightest. It’s an excuse, something he’s saying to get you off his back. And that doesn’t feel good.

“I um…” you clear your throat to get rid of the way it sounds thick, “I’m sorry for that time, by the way. When I was throwing things and I-I hit you. I shouldn’t have done that, it was wrong of me. So, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, “You were upset.”

“Simon…” you mumble, food completely forgotten in front of you, “I want to talk. About everything,” Simon seems annoyed immediately but he tries to hide it. You know him too well for that, though, “I-It was a lot and I think we should talk about it – really talk about it.”

He says your name exasperatedly, turning to open the fridge so he can put his leftover food inside before he slams the door. “I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“But I do,” you say, following him as he storms out of the kitchen, “You said some really mean shit, Si. I want to talk about it!”

He storms into the bedroom, slamming it open as he busies himself with picking up inside. You can tell he’s uncomfortable and simply trying to take his mind off of it. But you’re not going to let him avoid it.

“I don’t,” he snaps, final and harsh.

“I do!” you argue again, “I-I want to know why you said that to me. I want to know how you could–”

“Fuck sake!” he hisses through clenched teeth, ripping his hoodie off of a chair he had tossed it onto. 

He pushes past you, tugging it over his head. You follow him out of the room, watching with wide eyes as he picks up his mask from the coffee table. He tugs it on, painfully silent as he fits it into place. 

“What are you doing?” you finally ask when he gets to the door, slipping his boots on with a grunt, “Where are you going?”

“Out.” he growls, jerking the door open so hard it rattles on its hinges.

“Don’t run from me, Simon!” you cry, grabbing hold of his sleeve to keep him from stepping out, “Are you ever going to tell me you're sorry? Are you ever going to look in my eyes and tell me that you're sorry for what you said to me? For leaving me? Or are you just going to do it again?” 

You can’t fight the tears as you cry out, trying to tug him back into the apartment. But he gives you one final look before he rips his arm from your grasp and slams the door in your face. You’re left alone again, frustrated,  sad and utterly confused. 

You wished he would stop leaving. 

You decide to stay up a little later than you had lately, waiting for him to come home. The oven clock read a little past midnight when you finally called it and crawled into bed. Tugging his pillow to your side, you wrapped yourself around it and tried to imagine that it was him in your arms again. Closing your eyes, you will yourself to fall asleep, no matter how much you want to stay up and wait. 

You’re jostled awake by the weight shifting on the bed. Your eyes flutter open as it creaked under the additional weight. You know it’s Simon, even though your back is to him. He remains silent, clearly trying not to wake you and unaware that he already has. 

The heat radiates off of him in waves, comforting and nice. But despite that, you feel tears welling up until they finally trickle down your cheeks. You can hear Simon’s soft breathing and you can feel him shift every once in a while as he tries to sleep. 

“I can’t do this, Simon,” you find yourself whispering. It’s quiet but you know he hears it, “I want to feel better again. I want to stop being so fucking angry at you but you won’t let me. You just leave me again and I want you to stop. I want…” you suck in a breath and find yourself struggling to continue, simply dissolving into cries. You quiet them as best you can into your pillow.

Simon is painfully silent and still. You’re positive he’s not going to say anything. He’s going to pretend to sleep so he can avoid talking about it because that’s what he does best – avoid. When things get too hard or emotional, he avoids it like the plague. 

You suppose it’s from the way he grew up. A mama’s boy who was punished by his father for showing any kind of emotional vulnerability. It led to him being terrified of it as an adult – he refuses to let himself show that kind of weakness, even to someone who means something to him. And you know that you do – mean something to him, that is. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, just an echo in the darkness of the room. But it draws you to silence, “I’m sorry,” he repeats, voice thick with emotion, “For what I said to you and for the way I acted that night. I fucked up, I know. It never should have happened. What I said should have never–” he lets out a heavy breath, “I never should have said it.”

You roll over, blinking the tears out of your eyes, which tumble down your cheeks. With a sniffle, you scoot closer to him, his warmth welcome and comforting. He opens his arms for you, letting you situate yourself against him. You rest your head against his shoulder, letting your hand rest against his chest. His own hand comes up to take it in his, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“You mean…” he trails off again but you remain patient, knowing it’s difficult for him to fight through his desire to flee, “You mean a lot to me. I never want to lose you. You’re…important.”

You nuzzle your head against him, a silent acceptance of his apology. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you more firmly against him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again for good measure.

He didn't look you in the eyes and tell you he was sorry but he did the best he could. In the inky blackness of your bedroom, as you shared a bed, and he held you so sweetly, he finally said what you needed to hear. And that's truly all you could ask for.

PART TWO.

do not modify, translate, or repost.

[fayesia]

Greasin' the engine shaft pt.2

pervyold!Joel x younger!reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+ | p in v, | dubcon heavily bordering on noncon | dark!Joel | spanking | groping | humping | reader gets stuck and fucked | petnames (honey, baby, sweetheart) | daddy kink | Joel liked referring to himself as 'old man' | readers has conflicting feelings | readers says 'no' and 'stop' which is ignored | blurry consent | creampie | Joel gives ZERO aftercare | lmk to add anything else :)

Part 1: here

Music blasted through the workshop, your head bent under the hood of a car while you hummed along to the song. Lifting your head, you let out a yawn. This week had been long, and you couldn't wait to get drunk at the bar and rot in bed through the weekend.

Passing the front of the shop in search of a rag, you saw Joel talking to a customer, over their shoulders, your eyes locked. His eyes sharpened, and the corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk, lowering your head you sped past.

To say things had been awkward between the two of you would be the understatement of the century. At least on your side, Joel seemed to be revelling in this situation. Meanwhile, you wanted to die in a hole every time you came to work.

"Everything all right, honey."

The nickname stung harsher after that night.

Every endearment gave you flashbacks, the memory replaying in your mind.

His fingers twisting in you as his palm slapped against your clit.

His big hands tangled in you hair holding you in place while he fucked your face.

You wanted to feel disgusted, even mortified by it, but currently standing in the shops storage room, your highs shifted together to quell the rising pressure. Sifting through the numerous boxes of files and paper towels, you spotted a box of new cloths in the back of the shelf.

Reaching into the middle shelf, your body bent forward, fingers brushing against the edge of the cardboard as you tried to get a grip on it.

Jolting in shock, your movements stilled at the presence of someone behind you.

"God, now you're just teasin' me hun"

"Joel. Quit it."

You tried turning your head but the space of the shelf was too tight.

A shiver ran through your spine as Joels calloused fingertips, ran down the sides of your waist, his cold skin coming in contact with the open space between the hem of your tight singlet and jeans.

"Let me go, Joel, come on, don't be a dick"

"Oh baby, don't act like it's not on purpose, the whole shy act."

He scoffs in annoyance.

"A few days ago, you were falling apart on my fingers. Don't try to deny it. Had you moaning for the whole block to hear."

You wanted to reply with something quick and snarky, but your brain went blank as Joels hands caressed your ass. His fingers feeling you up through the denim, dangerously close to your crotch.

"Please, Joel,"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

His condescending gentle tone contrasted the harsh rubbing of his groin against your ass. You could feel him hardening, and you hated to admit, but for a second, the memory of him in your mouth flashed in your head.

His thick, heavy cock, the veins running down it. The tip was so pretty, dripping with precum, you couldn't forget the taste of him even if you wanted to.

Kicking your feet out, you tried pushing Joel, but the weight of his body against you only got heavier.

He now stood between your legs, his foot kicking at your ankles to push them apart.

One of his hands slid under your shirt, and you felt sick. The guilt in your head fought with the need of your core. The coldness of his fingers as they groped your chest pebbled your nipples.

He groaned as he practically humped your ass while fondling your tits.

At this point the friction of his bulge pushing the denim material of your jeans against your clit left your mouth open, fighting the release of any sounds.

But he'd heard that one whine of yours, and he knew.

You were fucked.

Joels hands tugged your jeans down to your knees, his pupils dilated at the sight of your pink lace thong clinging to your pussy. The material damp enough for him to basically see through it, the cloths material shaped to your pussy.

You tried to wiggle away from his touching, but that only spurred him on.

One of Joel's hands came down to slap your asscheek, the sting followed by his fingers digging through your soft flesh. He wanted to mark you, make you never forget who truly owned your body.

Tears ran down your face by now, mumbling for him to please stop, but Joel could barely hear over the blood rushing from his head to his other head.

Multiple slaps rained down on your behind. The skin was hot and flushed, definitely marked red. Joel slapped hard. Working with his hands for more than forty years gave him more strength than he could control.

It hurt, but not as much as it aroused you.

You hated it.

Hated that even though he hurt you like this, your pussy would still be wet when he checked.

And he did.

When he ripped your underwear down to your jeans, he saw the strands of wetness splitting off the material. The way your pussy shined under the sharp white lights he installed into the storage room just this weekend.

His groan almost sounded like a growl.

"Been waiting for this baby"

"Spent all weekend thinking about this dripping pussy, bet you thought about me too huh"

You had. You had gone home after that night, and in the shower, your mind drifted back to it. Under the shower head, you climaxed.

The water washed away the dirt from the shop and the dirty thoughts from your mind.

"Ngh no..didn't-didnt think of you"

"Oh sweet girl, you wound me, can't even give your old man a second thought"

His verbage reminded you of the truth. The reality that he was far too old to be doing this to you. For goodness sake, he started the shop before you were even conceived and celebrated its 20th anniversary when you were born.

It was wrong.

Disgusting and wrong.

So why were you dripping down your thighs.

Why, when Joel's fingers ran through your folds, were you leaving a mess behind.

Hearing the buckle of his belt and the zip on his jeans, you braced for what was to come.

Or rather for you to come.

His tip rubbed through your folds, it hit your clit and you couldn't help but moan.

Joel kept thrusting through you, prompting more high-pitched noises out of you, whines and moans mixed into one.

His fingers had a bruising grip on your hip, and his head fell back in pleasure.

Leveraging on your hips, he pulled you from the shelf, your feet ungracefully tripped on your jeans around your ankles, without Joel's arms holding you up, you were sure to have fallen.

Sweat dripped down from your forhead from being in such a tight space for so long that your breathing was heavy and eyes widened with desire.

"Ok baby, deep breath for me"

You wanted to shake your head, fuck, you wanted to scream no, but before you even had the chance his dick was inside you.

Just halfway in, before Joel had to tighten his hold around you to stop you from stumbling forward.

A cry left your mouth but no one else was working to hear you.

"It's ok sweetie, relax for me, make it easier for both of us if you just breathe a little."

"Nghn I can't, too big Joel please"

Your hands held onto the edge of a shelf, Joel's grip returning to your hip to drive himself deeper in you, the other one made its way to your clit. His fingers came in contact with the wetness collected around his base and your opening, collecting it to rub your clit.

His fingers had you fumbling for words, only noises able to leave your mouth.

Finally Joel's greying pubic hair was flush with your pussy, he stilled to let you get used to the stretch, and tangled his hand into your hair.

You pulsed around him before slowly moving forward and back, thrusting yourself upon his dick in small motions.

"Yeah, just like that baby, use me, use your daddy, can feel you enjoying it"

In any other situation, with any other person, the nickname would've disgusted you.

But with Joel.

It was different.

Because Joel was daddy.

With his broad shoulders and strong arms. The salt and pepper hair both on his head and downstairs.

His deep southern accent as he spoke.

But most specifically, his age compared to yours.

You could still be in college, and he was just about reaching the age of retiring and settling into a nursing home.

The image of him sat beside a grandma knitting almost made you laugh, except a shift in Joel's hips had you shutting up quickly.

His grip on your hair tightened and forced you to arch your back while his other hand gripped tightly onto the flesh of your ass. He'd sped up now, sharp thrust that reached deep inside you, hard enough that his balls slapped against your clit, the noises of skin against skin filling the room.

God, you hadn't thought about Joel's balls since that night, the way he had them stuffed in your mouth, your spit making a mess everywhere. You could only recall the weight of them holding all that cum which he covered you in a few moments later.

Snapping you back to reality was a hard slap to your ass. Unconsciously, you had been moaning, and each thrust of Joel's hip bought a new noise out of you.

Pulling you upright flush against his chest, Joel's hands mauled at your tits, he loved watching them bounce while he fucked you. Something he thought about often when you were bent over the hood of a car. A sight he'd gotten used to remembering at night with his jeans unzipped while he lay in bed.

His beard scratched into the side of your neck, the mostly grey hair tickling your ear as he whispered dirty words to you.

"That's it, baby, so tight, sure you ain't a virgin, sweetheart?"

"Best fucking pussy I've been in, means a lot from an old man like me"

"Yeahhhh keep clenching around me, she's just tryna suck me in ain't she"

"Fucking come for me baby, come for daddy"

Mewling back your arms wrapped around Joel's neck, his hand bent over your shoulder to snuggle into your neck while he ferociously thrusted upwards into you.

With one hand playing with your nipple, the other rubbed quick circles onto your clit.

"Godd, I'm coming fuck please-please"

With a outcry of daddydaddydadddy your eyes shut tight, flashes of white, and mouth hung open as you orgasmed. Joel licked a path up the side of your neck, his cock stilling deep in you as he felt your pussy clench around him.

"Yeah baby, daddy's gonna fill you up, nice and full of his cum, make me a real daddy huh"

You nodded, in all honestly barely understanding a word he said, your mind was broken, and your limbs like jelly.

So you could only stay limp in Joel's embrace as he pumped his cum in you, waiting for it to end for what felt like too long.

"So perfect sweetie, such a good girl for daddy"

Nodding along a whine left your lips when Joel pulled his soft dick from you, his release dripped down your thighs with some landing on the store rooms floor.

A stain. A tarnish. A reminder of what had happened.

Joel let go of you, your legs were weak, and you stumbled before softly kneeling on the ground, too weak to pull your jeans up. He had already returned to a state of dressed, simply zipping his jeans up and buckling his belt, while your thong and jeans were still tangled around your ankles. Your hair was definitely a mess, and you felt the trail of drool from your mouth down to your chin. He scratched the back of his neck, looking down at you.

"Uhh, I'll get some tissues. Let ya get dressed"

You didn't say anything.

He was a fucking dick. With a dick you loved fucking.

You closed your eyes, hearing his steps fade, pulling up your underwear and pants, before reaching to get that box of rags, tears stained your cheeks as you tried to wipe them. But more came rushing down, blurring your vision.

He could be a literal grandpa, and you've had more than enough trash hookups that ended worse than this.

So why the fuck were you feeling like this about your old pervy boss Joel fucking Miller?

[gaea-a]

Imagine being the mom in the batfam ; part 1

Characters: Richard Grayson , Barbara Gordon , Jason Todd

...

-Taking care of Dick for the first time when he arrived at the mansion.

- Giving him time to adjust to his new life.

- Don't persuade him to call you mom, and instead be a constant support.

- Laughing and playfully teasing him when you find out he likes a girl from his class.

- Meeting Barbara one night and fulfilling your small dream of having a daughter (or at least treat her as such).

- Congratulating Barbara for every little thing she does.

- Being there to calm Dick down when everything becomes overwhelming.

- Congratulating him instead of scolding him when he tells you he's going to Blüdhaven.

- Hearing him call you "mom" before leaving the mansion.

- Designing Batgirl's vigilante suit with Barbara when she excitedly told you she wanted to help your husband.

- Helping her with the doubts she has about her body when she goes through puberty.

- Laughing while you both go shopping because you decided she needed to have fun, and you thought a "girls' day" would be the best solution.

- Going to her high school graduation because Gordon couldn’t make it that day and he asked you to go in his place.

- Hearing her refer to you as her "mom" in front of one of her teachers, only for her to apologize to you afterward, embarrassed.

- Welcoming Jason with open arms when he first arrived at the mansion.

- Laughing at Jason’s jokes and antics, even though Bruce wasn’t too happy about it.

- Hugging Jason warmly when he offered to help you take care of the garden, even though he had school tasks to do.

- Playing “Super Mario Kart” with him because he had never played a video game in his life before.

- Hearing him say "See you, mom!" not knowing that would be the last time you'd see him.

- In general, spoiling your little Jason until he was taken from you.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

wish lantern rewrite

I can’t be the only one that wishes we had actually traveled to a new location… that we had learned about a new culture and holiday… that Riddle had actually had more character development in Wish Lantern instead of being cooped up in the library, being forced to play pretend princess in order to get out, and give like maybe a handful of lines max in the second half of the event 😭 What we ended up getting was fun too, but I keep thinking about the missed opportunities and how great this story event could have been.

If Twst won’t give it to me then I will have to cook my own food 😤

Here’s how I would write Wish Lantern if I was in the Twst writing room:

Since Riddle is the SSR, I feel the story and its set-up should center him. I’m thinking maybe he’s invited to (or told by his mother to attend) some kind of conference or event in the Kingdom of Heroes or the Sunshine Lands for aspiring medical mages. Let’s say it is being held in the same place where the story of the Princess in the Tower originated because the Sundrop flower mentioned in the tale has miraculous healing properties (and the city/kingdom has since become known for its medical advances).

Riddle is uneasy about going there by himself (the implication being that this event is set after book 1 and, more specifically after book 6, when Riddle expresses to Azul he has been considering pursuing law instead of magic medicine/the career his mother chose for him). Maybe he mentions this unease around Deuce, that he feels obligated to go because “Mother knows best… She has always known what is beat for me, hasn’t she?” It could even be in the library. Say that Riddle is brushing up for the conference and happens to run into him, who is looking for a book to help with completing an assignment. After listening to Riddle’s woes, Deuce, being one of the people who knows about his dorm leader’s complicated feelings toward his mother and finding his own independence, offers to come along as emotional support.

As for how Jack gets involved, he’s Deuce’s club member. Maybe he overhears Riddle talking about sports medicine or panels presented by medical mages who work with athletes, or Deuce mentions it in a club meeting. Jack becomes interested because he’s the type of person that’s always looking for ways to enhance his training and to learn more about this subject.

Kalim can either join because he's conveniently in the library + wants to learn more about poisons and antidotes (on his own self-development journey to be more self-sufficient instead of relying on Jamil all the time) or because the Asims are sponsors of the event and he gets a free invite through his Rich Privilege.

Use the usual "Grim overhears and whines until he and Yuu get invited to go along" excuse or maybe have Yuu and Grim come because they, too, want to be emotional support for Riddle. (They could have heard from Deuce?) With that, we have all of the main characters for this event assembled.

Even though this is a rewrite, I'm going to try and follow the conventions of OTHER "hometown" events. That means most of this rewritten event will be exploring the new area, learning about its customs and traditions, souvenir shopping, and sampling food. This would be a great chance to, of course, throw in Tangled references. Because I proposed that this event be focused on a conference for aspiring medical mages, we can also learn more lore about what medical technology and practices exist in Twisted Wonderland and how magic has played a part in advancing medicine.

So it turns out, there's a festival going on in the area at the same time as the conference. That's because there's a holiday in this kingdom that celebrates the Princess in the Tower finding her way home by following a trail of lanterns. Since the conference doesn't start until the next day, we can go out and enjoy the festivities! (Riddle can be hesitant at first, but the others convince him to loosen up.)

The new outfits + hair can be explained away as part of local traditions. Everyone is provided with a potion that lengthens their hair so they can emulate the Princess in the Tower. Or maybe there can be a potion-making station, and length still correlates with the skill at which you were able to brew it. (In this version, the hair lengthening potion isn't made with super rare ingredients; it is something easily accessible for even non-mages to brew and can be made cheaply.) YES, THAT MEANS WE GET LONG HAIR GRIM.

Local specialties could include dishes mentioned or depicted in Tangled, like hazelnut soup (Rapunzel's favorite).

HERE ARE SOME CUTE INTERACTION IDEAS BASED ON RAPUNZEL'S OWN EXPERIENCES IN CORONA: the gang doing chalk drawings and clowning on each other's artistic abilities (or lack thereof), trying out cupcakes (the reasoning being that they're "single servings" so it's okay for Riddle to indulge), exploring bookshops, painting on the walls, and everyone joining in a big group dance! (For the dance, maybe there’s a competition to see who can drag in the most bystanders into the dance and Riddle gradually finds his footing in that + is crowned the winner?) There could even be a tavern that pays homage to The Snuggly Duckling.

While we're out having fun, there should be a consistent pattern of Riddle having to be convinced that it's okay to be participating in these activities. He feels that he should be focusing on studying for the conference, but the others are there to reassure him it's okay to take breathers.

"You won't perform at your best if you're always at 100%. In terms of a workout, you'd be asking to pull a muscle if you push yourself to exercise without end." (Jack)

"Mmm? But how often are we going to be in [name of city]? We're here now, so we might as well experience everything that's here!! The food, the music, the games, the people... You can't find that anywhere but here." (Kalim)

"I get the importance of preparation, but I'm kind of curious about the celebration that's going on. If Rosehearts-senpai wants to study, then he should do that. I'd feel bad exploring the city without him, though... He might miss out." (Deuce)

"Shouldn't you at least grab some grub first? I'm pretty hungry too! Let's check out the food stalls!" (Grim, maybe Yuu can also get a dialogue option)

At some point, the group decides to browse and buy souvenirs. They discuss who they are shopping for and come upon the subject of family. Kalim and Jack want to buy stuff for their siblings and Deuce thinks his mom might appreciate a locally made handkerchief with the kingdom's sun emblem on it. (As a trucker, Dylla often drives for long hours so she might find use in a handkerchief to wipe her forehead.) Yuu and Grim can also bring up potentially getting something for the Ramshackle Ghosts, who are like their found family.

Riddle becomes visibly uncomfortable when the topic of family is brought up. Everyone else sounds so happy talking about theirs, but he has no idea what a happy family is supposed to be like. Deuce (and maybe Yuu + Grim too) realizes why Riddle is uncomfortable and quickly apologize. Kalim and Jack, who aren't familiar with Riddle's background or his attempts to speak with his mother over winter break, are a little confused but the others feel it's not their place to explain why and Riddle doesn't know them well enough to elaborate on personal matters. (Here, Jack and Kalim serve as an in-universe reason to keep his family history vague so as to not spoil people who haven't gotten that far in the main story yet, but the awkwardness is palpable enough to imply something is wrong to serve the narrative of the event story.)

Now, "hometown" events tend to introduce a new character, typically a family member, to us. However, the new characters are not those who appear as the "trauma source" for the respective OB boy. (For example, Falena was not the character introduced to us in Tamashina Mina/Cloudcalling on the Savanna and we met Kifaji instead.) Following this trend, we will not be encountering Mrs. Rosehearts but rather MR. Rosehearts.

I realize that we don't have a ton of lore about Riddle's dad yet so everything I write about his personality is completely headcanon (primarily based on the personality of the King of Hearts). The only things that are canon in this depiction is that 1) Mr. Rosehearts is a medical mage like his wife is and 2) Mr. Rosehearts does not have a happy marriage with his wife.

Anyway, we run into Mr. Rosehearts out in the city. Turns out that he is one of the presenters at the conference and he was supposed to meet and receive Riddle. He's a quiet and slightly anxious man but overall is kind to his son (though we should get the impression that Mr. Rosehearts isn't good with confrontation and folds easily).

Maybe have a part where Mr. Rosehearts is surprised that Riddle has friends because uh... the last time he recalls his son having friends, it was because his wife ranted at them for 5 hours and banned them from their home. But hey, he's chill about it and promises Riddle this can stay between them and he won't tell his mom. Could insert a line or two that implies that the winter break talk didn't go over well. (This is just my headcanon, but you could also stick in a line that insinuates that the Rosehearts parents don't just outright divorce because Riddle's mom can't deal with the potential social fallout + realizing that she is "wrong" in her marriage.)

Every "hometown" event thus far has presented us with some kind of minor external conflict to be resolved. In this case, Riddle's conflict is more internal. He's wrestling with what he wants to do with his future and trying to cope with the reality that his mother isn't the loving, "always correct" woman he thought she was. This, of course, mirrors Rapunzel's struggle with Mother Gothel, who tries to keep her in the tower and doing as she commands.

We finally make our way to our quarters for the night (Riddle has his own room; everyone else has to share one), perhaps in tall tower to mimic Rapunzel's home with Gothel. Riddle knows he should retire early because the conference is first thing tomorrow, but he admits to everyone that after spending time in the city, he has become curious about the tradition of releasing thousands of wish lanterns into the night sky. It happens pretty late in the day though, so he brushes it off and says they should sleep.

... But the others get really hype about Riddle "finally getting into the spirit of the holiday" and decide they should see the lanterns!! The only problem is, Riddle is locked in his hotel room for the night. There could be a local superstition, tradition, or security reason for this. Like maybe due to the story of the Princess in the Tower (and Gothel locking her up), people who are indoors at a certain time of night can't leave until the next day?? Or maybe Mrs. Rosehearts had prepared Riddle's room for him in advance and instructed staff to ensure he doesn't leave because she has been paranoid about him "breaking the rules" again after the tart incident. I don't know, pick your reason.

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS??? It's time for Jack, Deuce, Kalim, Grim, and Yuu to be Riddle's Flynn Rider + animal companions to break Riddle out. Our group represents the freedom and childhood wonders Riddle missed out on, the antithesis to Mrs. Rosehearts'/Mother Gothel's control. I can see Riddle using his long hair to hoist himself down, Jack using his UM to help everyone race to the water in time to catch the lanterns, Deuce being the muscle if they run into any thugs, Kalim using his social skills to quickly befriend the locals and ask for directions to the best vantage point or using his $$$ to rent the group a rowboat, etc.

We can keep the rhythmic/twistune from the original version of this event where Kalim, Deuce, and Jack were able to safely descend using Riddle’s hair but Riddle hesitates before he’s able to get himself to follow. The reason is the same; he worries about breaking the rules and how his mother would disapprove of him leaving the home. Riddle wonders if the Princess in the Tower felt the same, but ultimately his friends convince him it’s fine (by baiting him with the rules). He will be trapped in this tower forever if he doesn’t summon his strength and take the leap. If not now, then when? When will my life begin? “There are people waiting for me outside, so… it must be okay for me to leave. Right… Mother?”

Riddle keeps nagging everyone about how many rules and social norms they're breaking, but eventually he loosens up and even laughs a little at some of the dumb things they do. We can maybe have him thinking, This is just like… and then flashback to his childhood days with Trey and Chenya.

They're out on the waters just in time to see the lanterns being released. Alternatively, the even runners could be having trouble lighting up all the lanterns or something so Riddle has the opportunity to help with that (this way, we’d still get the other rhythmic/twistune featured in the original event). That particular rhythmic/twistune ends on Riddle with five lanterns floating overhead, which I think could be important symbolism (five lanterns -> five mentions of Heartslabyul).

It's beautiful. Everyone oohs and aahs at the sight--most of all, Riddle. He can say something like... "This city is known for its many contributions to magic medicine. I know that, and yet... I don't believe any magic or medicine could replicate what I am feeling in this very moment." There is some part of Riddle that acknowledges the healing and therapeutic properties of just... being allowed to have freedom, of allowing himself to live in the present and not stress about the rules or gearing up for a future someone else has decided for him all the time. He just doesn't know how to fully verbalize it + has not fully come to terms with it yet, so this is how he expresses it. At last, he sees the light.

While the new location they travel to + the conference provide us with the backdrop of medicine and health for this rewrite, I think there’s also something to be implied about the injuries we don’t see, the pain inflicted that isn’t physical. Both Riddle and Rapunzel were trapped in towers but were also emotionally controlled and prevented from leaving/made scared or the world and disobeying their mothers. When Riddle sees the lanterns, it’s sort of a “wake up” sign to his soul, a reminder of how healing it can be to just… live by one’s own terms, to not be ruled over by fear of disappointing someone else or failing to meet expectations. Rapunzel and Riddle bear scars on their heart from having been raised in the households that they were, and it is seeing the lanterns in-person that helps to “heal” what hurts them.

Riddle recalls the story of the Princess in the Tower and how she made a wish to see the lanterns, so now people make wishes upon these lanterns before releasing them into the sky. He lets go of his own lantern and wishes that, someday, he can be like the Princess in the Tower and this lantern floating up to the sky… and follow his own Road to Freedom.

Everyone sneaks back into their rooms and rest for the day. Uhhh, and there can be a scene of slicing off their hair for tomorrow. Riddle can talk about how the Princess grew her hair long because her mother told her to, but that it must have been cumbersome to walk like this. This way, by cutting off the hair like how the Princess does at the end of her story, it's a liberating act.

It doesn't matter what happens at the conference because what was important was the experiences Riddle had with his friends leading up to it. At most, maybe we see Mr. Rosehearts again while heading to the venue and they have a brief exchange where Riddle lets it slip he's a little tired. "That's so unlike you," Mr. Rosehearts remarks. "Well," Riddle replies with a small smile, "I am a growing young man, after all. I am changing every day."

I want to be clear that this does NOT mean Riddle has had a full character arc to come to terms with how he was raised. He would NOT feel 100% okay with rebelling against his mother by the end of this (hypothetical) event. The point of my version of Wish Lantern isn't to empower Riddle to fistfight Mrs. Rosehearts or to tell her off. The point is that it's supposed to be a small step in helping Riddle through the very complicated process of recognizing he was traumatized and/or abused, accepting that reality, and learning about how he can grow from it and his abuser (who is someone he thought he loved and could trust). This can take YEARS to process in the real world, and it would probably be similar to Riddle. Again, this is meant to be a SINGLE STEP he takes, NOT THE ENTIRE JOURNEY.

So in my rewrite, the event would be split up like this:

Episode 1: invitation to the event; gathering all the relevant characters, hopping through the mirror

Episode 2: arrival in the new location and having fun in the area

Episode 3: souvenir shopping, meeting Riddle's dad

Episode 4: retiring to room, changing mind and deciding to break out instead

Episode 5: seeing the lights, ending

As you can see, the structure is very similar to a traditional "hometown" event. I didn't want to stray too far from Twst's usual writing conventions, as it could mess with the cohesion with the rest of its story events. I did, however, try to change things up a little (like having an internal conflict instead of an external one) and tied in this (hypothetical) story with Riddle's overarching character development, as those are elements that I personally prefer in a story. I realize that the biggest change here is tying my rewrite much more strongly to the main story than similar events have 💦 BUT LET ME HAVE THIS, I think I cooked 😭

... What Wish Lantern could have been OTL Don’t get me wrong, though!! The version we did get wasn’t all bad. There was lore about the NRC library, lots of involvement from the staff, and fun character interactions with the whole student cast. I just feel like those could have all been used for a different event and not the Tangled one which could have been so much more interesting for Riddle and his character.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 7

Summary: The group Christmas party takes a few unexpected turns.

CW: Swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of boobs?, sexual references.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

So I may have stayed up until 2am finishing this last night so that I could have it posted on schedule but it also might be my favourite chapter so far!

--

The apartment looked amazing. You'd gone all out with decorating in preparation for this evening's Christmas party. There were lights and candelabras adorning just about every available surface in the room. A garland was laid out across the TV stand and the table was set with your favourite Christmas place setting. You'd even hung mistletoe in the entryway.

You looked yourself over in the mirror once more. You were dressed in your brand new dress, your hair pinned up in a simple, yet elegant updo and you're favourite red lipstick coated your lips. It was important to you that you made a good impression tonight. Despite having already spent a significant amount of time with the group, this was your first time hosting and you'd put a lot of effort into making it perfect.

You took one last deep breath, adjusting your dress slightly where it sat on your shoulders and stealed yourself for an entrance.

The smooth notes of "Last Christmas" filled the air around you as you pushed open the bedroom door. You could hear voices drifitng from the living room. Your guests had arrived.

Exiting the comforting confines of your room, you couldn't help the nerves that wracked through you. That was only amplified when eyes fell upon your form.

"Oh my god!"

Mary was the first to speak, exclaiming loudly with that endearing enthusiasm that she always seemed to exude.

"You look incredible!"

She charged towards you and engulfed you in a warm embrace. You melted into her touch, her excitement helping to ease your nerves ever so slightly.

"Thanks, Mary. So do you!" you told her earnestly. She looked stunning in a silky, red, wrap dress.

"And look at this place!" she continued, pulling away and gesturing around the room. "Did you do this?"

"I had some help," you responded, glancing over at Sirius and James. They were standing beside the tree, chatting to Peter with drinks in hand.

It was at that moment that Sirius looked over to you and his eyes almost bulged fair out of his skull at the sight. He blinked at you senselessly for a moment, completely zoning out of the conversation he'd previously been a part of you. You chuckled lightly, winking and sending him a flirtatious wave across the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Mary was observing the interaction, a curious look of suspicion crossing her features.

"Well, then," She stated after a moment. "Shall we get you a drink?"

You nodded, smiling back at her. "I'd love that."

The two of you linked arms as you headed into the kitchen. Sirius' gaze followed you the whole way there.

--

The room was filled with people dancing and laughing and drinking. The party so far seemed to be a smashing success. You were sitting on the couch, positioned next to Lily while Dorcas sat on the oveseat, Marlene huddled in her lap. Mary was perched on the coffee table, engrossed deeply in a story about a man who'd attempted to ask her on a date in a bookshop earlier that week.

"I could tell he was hovering," she explained. "But I chose to ignore him for the most part. I was in the Crime and Thriller aisle when he approached and I kid you not, he looked me dead in the eyes and said 'I have a library card, can I check you out?'".

The group erupted into fits of laughter.

"But you weren't even in a library! It was a book shop right? That doesn't even make any sense!" Dorcas pointed out.

"I know!" Mary chuckled. "I just looked at him like he was crazy and told him I'm seeing someone. Not that I would've ever gone out with him even if I wasn't!"

"Ugh, men are ridiculous," Marlene remarked. "Luckily for me, they aren't something I have to worry about."

She leaned up and planted a sloppy kiss on Dorcas' cheek causing the girl to flinch away and groan dramatically, eliciting another ripple of laughter.

You took a sip of your cocktail. It was lovely and sweet; a combination of gin, prosecco and canberry juice. Mary had insisted on making them for the party. She called it a "Gin-gle Bell Fizz."

"So, y/n," Suddenly attention was on you as Lily piped up from your right. "Have you been seeing anyone recently?"

You inhaled sharply, accidentally swallowing wrong and causing yourself to sputter for a moment as you placed your glass down on the table.

"Oh no. Not at all," you chuckled, once you'd managed to regain your breath. "I've been lacking in the area of romance for quite some time, honestly."

"Really?" Dorcas pressed, and you nodded sheepishly.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that," Lily respoded kindly. You were sure that in the time you'd known her, you'd discovered the lovliest person on the planet. "You're so beautiful! Anyone would be lucky to have you!"

"I concur!" Marlene agreed. "You're a hit, babe. It's only a matter of time. I'm sure half of London has the hots for you by now."

You chuckled lightly. "Thanks everyone. Careful or you'll give me an ego."

"Don't worry. No matter how inflated it gets, it'll surely never be as large as James'," Dorcas announced, prompting another round of laughter.

"What's as large as me?"

As if on cue, James appeared behind you, leaning down over the couch so that his head was pertruding into your conversation.

"We were just talking about how hot, y/n is," Marlene chirped.

"Well you aren't wrong there," James smirked. "What'dya think I bought her that dress for?"

Mary raised a brow. "You bought her that, did you?"

He winked at her slyly. "Call it an early Christmas gift."

That's when Sirius appeared, Remus by his side.

"Speaking of gifts," he chimed in. "Who's ready for Secret Santa?"

"Oooh yes!"

That came from Peter, who was just returning from the kitchen with drinks for himself and Sybil.

"I call Santa!" James exclaimed, jumping up from his spot and rushing towards the tree as everyone took their seats.

__

"What on earth is this?"

James was surpressing a laugh as he ripped the last of the wrapping paper from his gift.

"They're shot glasses!" Marlene exclaimed as if that much wasn't obvious. She was leaning back in her chair, arms folded and a smug smirk across her face.

"They have tits!"

"I know! Classy aren't they?"

He held one of the glasses up so everyone could see and sure enough, they were shaped like the curves of a female body. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the gift.

"And there are four in there, so each of you boys can use one," Marlene stated. "You know, just in case you were forgetting what they looked like-"

"Oh come off it!" Sirius responded, giving Marlene a playful shove from where he sat beside her as she giggled. "I get plenty of action, thank you very much. I'm the lead singer of a band, remember?"

She shrugged. "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night!"

"Okay next!" James shouted, sitting his gift aside and rumaging once again under the tree. After a moment he retreated, his lop-sided santa hat (that he'd insisted on wearing) snagging on one of the branches and causing everyone to burst into a flurry of laughter.

"Alright," he announced once his hat was righted. "This one is for y/n!"

He passed you the gift, a small box wrapped in shiny gold wrapping. Excitedly, you pulled off the bow and began to tear into the paper, all eyes on you as the gift was unvailed.

Inside was a small, red box. On top of it was a tag, decorarted with the words, "For your new beginning here with us."

You pulled it open and couldn't stop yourself from gasping at what was inside.

It was a gold necklace with an ornate dragonfly charm, one that matched almost exactly with the orament on your tree. You pulled it out to inspect it closer.

"Oh my god! This is beautiful!"

Your eyes scanned the circle of people, looking for an indication of who might have given you the gift. You knew that your roommates were the only ones who new about your Christmas ornament so it had to be one of them. You already knew that James had Mary so that just left... Sirius. It had to be Sirius.

It made sense now as to why he didn't want to help you with your shopping. He apparently didn't want to give anything away.

You caught his eye across the room and sent him a genuine smile. One which he returned. You're heart felt fuzzy at the sentiment.

--

Secret Santa had been a hit, if you did say so yourself. Dorcas had absolutely fawned over the set of paintbrushes you'd gotten her and everyone else seemed reasonably satisfied with their presents.

You then sat down to eat dinner, and having each brought a plate of food, the meal seemed decently well-rounded. As you tucked into the turkey James had prepared, you said a silent prayer of thanks that you hadn't been made to serve this entire group. Let's just say you were a much better party host then caterer.

After dinner, your guests had retired to the couch where slightly tipsy game of 'Cards Against Humanity' had commenced (at Sirius' request, of course. According to Marlene, he'd been pulling that game out at every group gathering since high-school.)

You and Peter had volunteered to tidy up the plates before you joined them and ended up in a surprisingly interesting dicussion about the Botany course he'd briefly taken during University.

Towards the end of the conversation, you'd recieved a message from your Mum double checking the dates for your Christmas visit and you realised that your phone was down to 10%.

"Could you excuse me for a moment?" You asked Peter as you placed the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Sure," he nodded gently. "If we're finished up here, I'll go join the others."

"Yeah, go for it. I'll be there in a second," you told him and quickly ventured down the hallway with the intent of plugging your phone in in your bedroom.

You responded to your Mum's message on the way and absentmindedly threw the door of your room open without even thinking to knock.

"Oh my god!" you shouted as you entered.

Mary and Lily pulled away from each other in a flash, from where they'd been interlocked in a passionate kiss only a moment prior.

Mary shushed you quickly, pulling you into the room and Lily rushed to push the door closed.

You all fell silent for a moment, listening as to whether anyone outside had heard you, however, a ripple of laughter told you that they were still absorbed in the game.

"What the hell?" you questioned, eyes wide as you looked between the two of them. Lily looked extremely embarassed, her face almost as red as her hair as she bit her lower lip.

Mary, on the other hand, just shrugged. "Surprise, I guess?"

"Are you two together?" You questioned, still trying to process the scene unfoldng before you. A realisation dawned on you a second later. "Mary, is Lily who you've been secretely seeing?"

Mary sighed, taking a seat on your bed as she thought over her next words carefully. "I wanted to tell you. We just weren't ready for it to come out in the group yet. We didn't want to make it a whole big thing."

You nodded thoughtfully, taking a seat on the bed beside her. Lily stood in front of you, fiddling with the rings on her fingers nervously.

"This is kind of new to us," she gestured between them and instantly you understood what she was referring to. "And we're still just figuring everything out."

You gave her a small smile, eyes drifting between the two girls. "Well... I'm really happy for you. You guys are a good match."

Mary smiled, wrapping a friendly arm around your shoulder. Lily seemed to relax a little.

"Thanks, girl," Marry said softly. "We appreciate that."

It was then that another, more invasive thought entered your mind.

"Oh god, Lily. James is going to freak out! He's been pining after you since forever!"

Lily let out a lofty sigh, looking immensely guilty. "I know. Which is why you can't tell him, okay? Or anyone."

You furrowed your brows. "Of course I won't tell anyone... but guys, these are your best friends. You can't keep sneaking around forever. You're going to have to tell them at some point."

"We know," Mary muttered. "We're just trying to figure out the right time to do it."

"But we promise we will," Lily added. "Soon. I mean, someone was bound to catch us sooner or later."

"Although, I'm glad it was you and not Sirius," Mary joked. "He cant keep a secret to save his life. Especially from James."

You chuckled lightly. "Yeah, you're right about that."

"So... you're really okay with all this?" Lily questioned. You could tell on her face that she was worried about putting you in an uncomforable situation.

You sighed and sent her a small smile. "Yeah of course. It's not my place to tell anyone about your personal situations. You have to do that when you're ready."

"Thanks, hun, you're the best!" Mary exclaimed, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you into a sideways hug.

You just chuckled as Lily gave you a warm smile.

"And just so you know, I think you guys make a really cute couple."

Lily turned bright red once more.

--

A few hours later, the party drew to a close. Peter and Sybil were the first to leave, followed shortly after by Dorcas and Marlene.

You said goodbye to Mary and Lily around 1am and the four of you who lived at the apartment stayed up a little while longer to tidy up before you went to bed.

Remus said goodnight earlier than the rest of you, as he was having trouble with his knee again. And you sent James off after him when you noticed how his eyes were falling shut while he was picking up wrapping paper.

Eventually, you and Sirius were all that was left. It was the dead of night by that point, and the city had grown silent. There was something peaceful about it, you observed, being awake while the rest of the world was sleeping. For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

Sirius smiled when he caught you gazing out of the widow at the cityscape. There were a few cars still driving on the road below, a few stray lights on in apartment windows, a few little signs of life peering through an otherwise silent metropolis.

Sirius approached you slowly, coming to stand behind you as you looked out at the night-covered skyline.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked softly. His warm breath fanned the back of your neck.

"Those people down there, driving," you responded. "I wonder where they're going?"

Sirius chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound that welled from somewhere in his chest.

"It's a bit late for a drive, you'd think."

You hummed in response. "Isn't it odd to think about how life doesn't just exist around you?"

Sirius frowned. "What do you mean?"

You shrugged. "Like, the idea that every single person that you see through their apartment window, or pass on the street, or who's driving one of those cars down there, is living their own individual life. They each have their own stories; their own friends and family and lovers. There's just so many people in the world and most of them, we'll never cross paths with even once."

Sirius pursed his lips. "Wow. That is odd. I can't say I've ever really thought of it like that."

You turned around towards him, the countours of your face highlited in the dim lamp-light.

"Don't you ever wonder about your fans? Who they are? What their life is like? To think that there could be all these people out there listening to the music you created, and you may never even know their names."

Sirius pushed a low breath from his lips. "What a philosophical way to end a Christmas party."

You scoffed loudly and rolled your eyes. "Sorry to ruin the mood."

"It's no problem, love. As long as you had a fun time."

He placed his large hands on your upper arms and you couldn't fight the smile that arose. "I had a wonderful time. Did you?"

He returned your smile. "Best Christmas party yet!"

You giggled softely and he placed a kiss on your forehead. "Come on, it's getting late. We should head to bed."

You nodded and pulled away to gather your things. As you did so, your eyes fell on the box containing the necklace you'd recieved for Secret Santa. Another smile graced your lips at the sight of it.

"Hey Sirius?" You called out, just as the boy began to head towards his bedroom door.

"Yeah, doll?"

"I just wanted to say, thank you so much for your gift. It's so wonderful and thoughtful. I absolutely love it!"

A slight frown came over Sirius' face. "Uh... as much as i'd love to take the credit for it, I didn't get that for you."

Your brows furrowed. "Really?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sorry. I had Remus."

"Well then who..."

Your question trailed off as your eyes fluttered to the aformentioned man's door. No. Surely not. It couldn't be!

Remus?

He'd never get you a gift that thoughtful... would he?

You looked down at the necklace as Sirius bid you a final goodnight. Your finger gently drifted over the dragonfly pendent and then to the note that was stuck to the top of the box.

"For your new beginning here with us."

--

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people

[nicolillies]

part 2 of the owl prince 🦉 a stoliz swan princess inspired au

Part 1

the owl prince details below (just me yapping)🔻

I’m still outlining what i want to happen so things may change a bit. I don’t plan on making an ao3 fic, maybe in the future. Just art for now. Art is just concepts for this au, not a formal comic yet.

AU rant:

In this au, they still meet as kids and Paimon still buys Blitz for a day but Tilla finds out about Cash made Blitz steal. She and Blitz return the stolen items and Mr. Butler who is chill like that keeps it between them. Imp solidarity.

Paimon, who doesn’t want to deal with a sad Stolas, wants to have Blitz return every summer to keep his son happy enough to go through with his arranged marriage.

To say sorry for stealing Tilla says Blitz should give stolas a gift. But Blitz doesn’t know what, and decides to give Stolas a cheap necklace from the circus gift shop. It becomes one of Stolas’ treasured possessions.

So Blitz visits Stolas every summer for a week (queue the “this is my idea” montage) up until the circus fire happens and Stolas gets married. From here we follow canon pretty much until Ghostf**kers with occasional swan princess line references. The “what else is there?” conversation occurs during Full Moon. The day after Blitz and Millie come back from their Ghostf**kers job, the news explodes because Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia has gone missing. Blitz decides to investigate.

Stolas has been cursed into his eldritch owl form during the day, and only the light of the moon on the lake water lets him change back at night. Part of the curse is he can’t leave the lake or he stays trapped in eldritch form forever. The lake is on a forgotten Goetia family property somewhere in the edges of the Pride ring (or maybe in a different ring idk). The property belonged to Stolas’ mother, it has been abandoned since her death.

Obviously Andreaulphus and Stella are responsible for cursing Stolas. Idk somehow Barbie comes across Stolas and they start bonding. The curse Stolas is under is ancient soul magic that can only be broken by a ritual where a vow of everlasting love is made and proven to the universe. Problem is Stolas doesn’t know anyone who would do that for him.

— End of ranting

[cheol-e-kat]

coffee shop and forbidden relationship with seungcheol from bingo please! 🙏🏻🥺

also congratulations 🎉💐🤍

hiii anon, sorry, i know you didn't pick a nsfw square, but i made up for that - also to all of the other anons who have been looking for more alpha!seungcheol - hereeee he is, hope you like him this time too...also this is part 1

♡ kat

[ master list ] [ part ii ]

bingo squares: coffee shop + forbidden relationship

Pairing: choi seungcheol / f!reader

summary: seungcheol shouldn’t have a crush on another alpha, but he can’t help the way he feels about y/n, but he also wonders if maybe it doesn't matter

word count: 2.7 k

genre: a/b/o au (omegaverse), coffee shop au, college au, alpha!seungcheol

Rating: 18+, MDNI, explicit

warnings and author's note explaining some omegaverse stuff below cut

warnings: explicit language, drinking, mentioned bitching, fingering, exhibitionism

a/n: just some omegaverse (a/b/o) housekeeping

generally in omegaverse, alphas are not written as being able to have children (even if they are female in all ways, their second gender - alpha - determines their ability to have children, i.e., they are sterile), so alpha males generally don’t pursue other alphas, they pursue omegas (omegas are able to have children).

So this is the ‘forbidden’ relationship setup - alpha x alpha

‘Bitching’ refers to making an alpha into an omega, usually through a lot of sex with another alpha - it’s often used as a non-con element in fics (it’s not used that way here - or I would have marked this as non-con - I’m explaining these definitions and tropes upfront, that’s all - this is not non-con or dub-con).

Seungcheol couldn’t help that he liked y/n. He knew he was supposed to find some cute omega to be with, but he had yet to meet a single omega who set off every alpha sense he had the way y/n did. 

He knew the moment he met her, when he walked into the coffee shop and the scent of sugared raspberries and apple mint slapped him in the face, that he wanted her as his mate - his full mate - all the fancy ceremonies, everything, no question - he wanted her to be his and for him to be hers. 

He’d been meeting Joshua there, and just standing in line had made him antsy because he knew the scent was hers, and the closer they got to the head of the line, the more nervous he was. He wasn’t sure that he had even really placed an order or if Joshua had stepped in and saved him from being an absolute bumbling mess. 

He hadn’t been able to think about anything else the rest of the day. Even when he had finished his coffee in class, he practically growled at Joshua for trying to throw away the cup - as long as her scent still lingered, he was keeping it. Lying in bed that first night, Seungcheol felt certain that he knew just how silky her hair would feel against his skin and how delicious she would taste. 

The only problem he had was that he had never really had to try when it came to attracting omegas. They always seemed to find him. They all seemed to think it was cute that he smelled just a bit like cherries. He had never been out and been alone for any serious amount of time - there was always someone who wanted to sit in his lap. And he sometimes wondered if some of them didn’t keep a calendar of when his ruts were because they sometimes seemed to know before he did. 

But no matter how many times he went to get coffee, y/n didn’t react the way he expected. She didn’t ask him to meet her in the bathroom or the breakroom or give him her number or any of the things he was used to. She knew his order and how to spell his name. She smiled when she said ‘hi,’ and sometimes she asked how his day was. She had called him cute once, when he wanted the mango lemon square thing they had and had tapped on the glass a little too much. But the only thing he could consider flirting were the little smiley faces or hearts she drew next to his name when she wrote it almost every morning. It was the tiniest gesture. 

But he literally had a desk drawer overflowing with all of the cup sleeves she had written his name on. He could pull them out and stare at the progression from smiley faces to just a few with hearts to the return of smiley faces, and finally to only hearts. He definitely preferred the hearts. Even if they were purely random - he wanted the little hearts. 

Really though, he wanted the girl drawing the hearts - he wanted to pull her over the counter and fuck her while everyone else waited in line until they were finished. Privacy was his last concern some mornings when he was feeling particularly desperate for her attention. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It wasn’t until he was out with Mingyu and whatever omega he was with that night, that Seugcheol ever considered that y/n didn’t act like an omega because she wasn’t an omega. 

Seungcheol had seen y/n standing to the side, sipping a drink and talking to a friend. He watched her, jealous of everything from her friend to her drink straw. He couldn’t help that he loved seeing her out - he loved when she dressed in skirts that were just short enough for him to imagine hiking them up and pushing her panties to the side and eating her the way he wanted. 

He heard the omega laugh, “Why is he paying attention to her? She’s an alpha too.”

He had glanced at the omega, “Who’s an alpha?”

She stared at him like he was an idiot before answering, “Y/n - she’s an alpha - you know, as in useless to you, unless she’s down for bitching,” she smiled as she delivered the snide remark. 

Seungcheol stared for a moment, slightly shocked that she had even mentioned bitching, but still letting what she said wash over him.

Mingyu, though, laughed nervously, “I think you need a drink,” and was immediately pulling the omega out of Seungcheol’s range. 

Seungcheol stayed where he was, reeling from the random fact that had been dropped on him. He had never thought y/n might be an alpha, and even if she were, she was the sweetest smelling alpha he had ever met. He glanced up again, finding her quickly, despite the low light. He tried to see her differently, as in not the person he wanted to mark - he tried to make his mind see her as another alpha.

But even in the crush of alphas and omegas and all the scents that swirled around him, Seungcheol could easily pick hers. He could follow it like a trail if he wanted. He was surprised to see her glance at him then. More surprising was the small smile she gave him and the way she held his gaze for a few moments before glancing back to her friend. 

He realized quickly that he didn’t care if she was an alpha - he wanted who he wanted, especially when her gaze returned to him and lingered. He watched her finish her drink and leave her friend to get a new one. He got up too, following her to the bar. As he walked behind her, he tried to see what about her would make anyone think she was an alpha. 

He had met female alphas, and they were like female omegas, some were hot, some were fun, some were annoying - females were females to him. Especially beautiful ones with long hair that filled his dreams. He loved the way her hips swayed as she walked. He wished he could walk up behind her and slide his arm around her waist and nuzzle close to her - he wanted to scent her so no one else would even look at her the rest of the night, or tomorrow even if he did it right. 

He stood next to her though. She glanced at him, and he watched her smile.

“Hi, Seungcheol,” she spoke just loud enough for him to hear her. 

He smiled, “Hi, y/n.”

She smiled again and picked up two drinks, “I only know your coffee order, so I took a guess,” she held a drink out to him.

It crossed his mind that an omega would never buy a drink for an alpha, not unless they were together. And even then. He took the drink, noticing the cherry and orange peel sitting on top of the cup - he wondered how he smelled to her, as he sipped the drink and it hit him, the drink - that was how he smelled to her. Cognac, and bitters, and the slightest sweetness.

“Good?” she asked, watching him.

He nodded, reaching out to let his fingers skim along her hip.

She bit her lip gently, “You aren’t like I thought you would be.”

He watched her and leaned closer, “How should I be?” he asked, letting his arm snake around her waist, pulling her closer. 

She smiled - he watched the way her cheeks flushed, “Um, just,” she paused, and he could feel her hand on his shoulder, “you kind of have a reputation,” she offered, her fingertips tracing along his shoulder.

“I do?” he asked, smiling - he knew exactly what she meant. 

She nodded, humming positively in response.

“Is it that bad?” he asked, tone more serious. 

She shook her head, “I just didn’t think I would be buying you a drink, you know,” she whispered, her voice playful.

He realized how close he was holding her - how warm she was - how incredible she smelled and felt. 

He leaned down, “Come home with me?” he asked, not hesitating. 

She turned, and she was so close to him then - he tried to take her in. But her eyes had gone a bit wider. He suddenly felt like he had said the wrong thing. 

He blushed, “Sorry,” he blurted out before she could answer him. 

She bit back a laugh - he felt her fingers trace through his hair, “You’re so cute for me.”

He blushed harder, pursing his lips - he was the loser between them - she was the hot one and he was the loser that everyone looked at with curiosity because ‘him with her?’

“Not the bathroom?” she asked, her smile faded - he felt like she was teasing him, but she sounded game too. 

He might have been getting hard, but it didn’t matter - he shook his head. Maybe if she were someone else the bathroom would suffice, but she wasn’t someone else. 

Every surface in his apartment - yes, please, he would beg on his knees. 

Dirty club bathroom with stalls that locked only through thoughts and prayers - only if she wanted it there.

He barely felt the way her hand had slid between them, but he unquestionably felt the way she palmed him through his pants. It was like there was no one else besides them when she touched him - her perfect, slender fingers tracing along his cock, while she pressed a delicate kiss just beneath his jaw. He sighed, glancing and realizing they were still surrounded. He didn’t want anyone else around. 

He reached down, catching her jaw gently before she made him groan like he was the one in heat, “Not here, baby girl.”

 She nodded, “Then take me home.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

He kept his arm around her as they left together. 

The issue that grew in his mind while they grabbed a cab to his, was the fact that he needed to remember everything about how it felt the first time they fucked. He wouldn’t be satisfied if there was a single moan he couldn’t recall the next day. That sentiment didn’t seem to stop him from playing with the hem of her skirt, pushing it just a little bit higher and higher - he could smell how wet she was for him. He felt her hand catch his just as his fingertips swiped against the crotch of her panties. 

“Cute,” she whispered. 

He grinned, “Cute when I rail you too, right?”

She kissed his cheek, “You want me too much right now for that,” she whispered.

“Do I?” he pulled her hand closer to him, his fingers shifting to slot between hers. 

She nodded, “You would have already done it if that were what you wanted with me,” she smiled, knowingly - she was so certain. 

He pressed the tip of his tongue hard against the inside of his cheek. She wasn’t wrong, though.

Even when they were in his apartment, he hesitated. She was in front of him, sitting on the countertop, he was between her legs - he could fuck her there - she was wet and needy. He wanted to fuck but couldn’t seem to get past how good it felt just to kiss her. Or the way she tasted. Or the idea of her in his bed and how good his sheets would smell.

She finally grabbed him, holding his cheeks gently, she stared at him for a moment, “You just want me next to you in bed, don’t you? And not to fuck, at least not tonight.”

He flushed brightly and couldn’t help but nod. 

She whined softly, “fuck,” she whispered, sounding distraught, “I should go.”

He grabbed her before she could move, “Why?”

“Because, I kept telling myself you weren’t into me - that you’re just naturally cute,” she trailed off. 

He blinked slowly, “Why wouldn’t I be? Because you’re an alpha?”

She looked up at him, a shocked look on her face, “Why do you think I’m an alpha?”

“Someone told me”—

“That I’m an alpha?” She sounded even more confused the second time she asked.

He shrugged, “I mean you’ve never acted like other omegas around me.”

She sighed, “I’m guessing you’ve never met a sigma?”

He’d heard of sigmas - he knew they were rare, or he thought they were. He shook his head all the same. 

“We don’t,” she sighed, “I like being chased - I like flirting with you, drawing little hearts and stuff, hoping you notice and like magically talk to me just because I daydream about you.”

He could feel her hand tracing along the center of his chest. “Then why would you leave when I’m saying I noticed?”

“Because I’m not what you think I am,” she sounded uncertain, “I’m way braver when I’ve been drinking,” she whispered, glancing at him shyly.

He watched her, realizing he was maybe wrong - she turned him into a dork, and he made her shy, at least when she was sober. He, on the other hand, was hopeless either way. 

He pressed closer, not wanting any distance between them, “So stay the night,” he kissed her cheek, “at least let me scent you so no one else talks to you.”

She seemed more uncertain than he was comfortable with.

“Please don’t make me admit how down bad I am,” he whispered. 

“You just admitted you want to scent me,” she said, smiling.

He shrugged, “Because I do.”

She leaned against him, “Can I shower? And borrow clothes?”

He tried to be calm, “Yeah, of course.”

He wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

He tried not to think about her naked in his bathroom and checked his phone instead. His gc had exploded - all questions for him - down to “who’s top?”

He rolled his eyes, not in the mood for his friends. Food, though, he could eat. 

He was scrolling menus when the door opened. He hated that he was too engrossed in a burger menu to look up, but he was happy when she sat next to him. He had never been around her when her scent wasn’t blended with other things, coffee, other people’s. 

He gave her his phone, asking for her to pick while he nuzzled against her throat. She gasped softly when he couldn’t resist pressing his teeth against her skin. He didn’t mark her, but he wanted her to know how he felt. 

“Are you dying for a burger?”

“No,” he mumbled. 

He knew she had placed an order when he felt both of her hands on him. They made out for a few minutes, but he pulled back - he checked his phone and saw the delivery time. 

“I should shower, too.”

But he looked down to see her in his t-shirt and boxers. He bit his lip lightly, glancing up at her.

She just smiled. 

“Do sigmas nest?”

She laughed, “It’s not that time for me,” she answered, still smiling. 

“Still.” He ran his hands along her sides and down her hips. “I like that you’re in my apartment - in my room - in my bed, and I really like that you’re only dressed in my clothes.”

She gave him a light push, “Go shower - it’s not like you’re going to let me open the door to some stranger.”

He imagined for a moment if she were wearing more clothes and shook his head, “Nope, but seriously, make my bed smell like you, please?” he asked. 

“You really are this cute, aren’t you?”

He nodded, “And possessive.”

She grinned, “I did get that impression.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her again. 

She caught his shirt lightly before he pulled away, “I liked when we were in the cab though, what you were doing to me - before I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” she murmured.  

He watched her blush as she said it - he nodded, wondering how the stars had managed to align just right for this moment to even occur. He never wanted her to be embarrassed to tell him what she liked, but that wasn’t something he could address before their food showed up. 

a/n: okieeeeee so, fr i hope you liked this ^^ told you i like omegaverse because yes at least part 2 but part 3 is mapped out

♡ kat

[ master list ] [ part ii ]

p.s. sigmas are like omegas because they can have children, but they can be confused for alphas - btw the drink y/n picked for him is real - it's an old fashioned, bitters give it this herbal note - so cheol is yeah lol

bingo reqs master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol: knotting + marking | professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) | monster | spanking (neighbor seungcheol) | big dick + hate sex | forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) | voyeurism + punishment | coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (untitled alpha!!cheol pt. 1) |

mingyu: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles |

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

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tag list: ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - o/m] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - o/m/priv] ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin [e - b.f.non] ☁︎

[togament]

suo. sakura. umemiya. togame. pt. 1, hiragi. kaji. kiryu. endo. pt. 2

"...and the biggest fattest one too. How'd it take him so long to figure it out? What did it take for him to finally realize?" part 2!

𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: mention of a scuffle in Kaji's part (never happened!), general FLUUUUFFFF TOOOOWN, slight jealousy in Kiryu's part, mentions of sex on Endo's, Endo follows you around like a lost puppy (kinda is...), Soft!Endo??!?!??!?!, reference of abuse on Endo’s part

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

✦ when you both argue about your favorite musicians.

It's well known Kaji loves listening to extremely obscure artists. Hell, you can hear his music blaring from his headphones when they're over his ears, attention fully on his phone to distract himself. So for you to know which artist it was by just listening to the beats from afar, he knows he's deep in shit. He knows he already likes you but he's in so much denial. Give him time. You both often find yourselves in little petty spats, engrossed in discussing about the artists you both listen to, you both get heated sometimes though, given how intense Kaji is--but you match it. People around you start to worry. Hiragi's ready to step in to stop a potential scuffle. But Hiragi immediately stops in his tracks when he sees you and Kaji chuckling as you pass an airpod to him. Kaji takes it and promptly places it in his ear, sat beside you. Hiragi smiles to himself as he backs off, opting not to bother you two lovebirds. You don't notice your arm brushing against Kaji's while you're ranting animatedly. You don't notice your knees touching, thighs flush against each other. You don't notice Kaji's ears practically glowing red at the mere contact. You don't notice him repeatedly wiping down his sweaty palms on his hoodie. Despite all that though, He doesn't move away.

✦ when he’s comforting you without complaining or wanting to move away from you.

Kaji's sensitive. He's got a short temper on top of that too. Privy to the slightest change in tone, change in the overall atmosphere. That's why he's got his lollipops, so he always has something to shut him up, something to stop him from barking. That's why he's got his headphones, so he could turn a blind eye to things that may tick him off. So for him to go out of his way to comfort you, placing his headphones over your ears, handing you an extra lollipop to soothe you, says a lot. He's better with his actions, anyway. Drawing you close to him with an arm around your shoulder, you find yourself sinking deeper into his touch. Letting your tears flow easily, gripping his jacket so tightly you fear he might slip away when you let go. But he won't. He could never leave you alone. Feeling you move away, whispering and hiccupping out a soft apology, his arm only tightens around you slightly. "Don't apologize. I'm here." he responds, wiping away a tear from your cheek.

✦ when he catches himself wishing you were around when he’s out and about.

it's often, by the way. You can tell he's thinking about you when he's sinking into his hoodie, headphones over his ears, hands in his hoodie pocket. Definitely hiding his blushing features from everyone that passes by him while they're doing their rounds. Kusumi and Enomoto could tell, of course. But they choose not to tease him or point it out. (Kusumi sends Enomoto a message saying how cute it is though for their beloved captain to be so enamored with someone. Enomoto just elbows him in response. The both of them are rooting for you.) Kaji often thinks about you and he hates how it makes his belly do flips when he sees your name pop up on his screen with a new song recommendation, hates how he catches himself smiling when he passes by shops he knows you frequent, hates how he wants you around him right now, hates how your schedules don't match sometimes, hates how he has to wait to see you sometimes, hates how he's always wanted to kiss you mid-argument to shut you up. He's gonna put an end to this. Pulling his phone out, he sends you a text. "Meet me at the rooftop tomorrow. Got something to tell ya." His heart skips a couple beats when he sees you typing as soon as he sends it. Almost as though you've thought about texting him at that very moment too. He feels his face heating up when you finally respond a minute later. So quick. "Think I know what you wanna talk about. Got something to confess too. See you tomorrow then? :)" He couldn't hide his smile this time. It's damn near impossible to. Tomorrow for sure.

── .✦

𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈.

✦ when you pop up in his mind while he’s listening to music.

He could be in Pothos, earphones on with a random song playing and his mind wanders. How he thinks you'd react to the song, how the lyrics relate to you. Before he's snapped out of his reverie by Ume slapping him on the back because he's been zoning out for more than 10 minutes and his food's getting cold. Of course he starts eating. Not without having the rest of the Bofurin muttering amongst themselves, wondering who's got their senpai blushing so deeply.

✦ when you help him out with the Bofurin boys to lessen the load, never making him feel guilty for accepting your help.

You're always there to help him out. Sorting the boys out and helping them with what they might need. Hell, you're even there on their monthly town repainting, not minding the sun beating down on your skin, sweat dribbling down your forehead while you're passing them bottles of water and towelettes. Hiragi protests sometimes, telling you to rest, that they'll take care of it. You just shake your head affectionately at him, telling him it's your pleasure to do so. You like helping them. You want to help them. Hiragi's grateful.

✦ when you keep an extra stash of Gaskun-10s on you.

Something so simple, something you'd consider a passing thought. But Hiragi's so, SO grateful you even bothered buying extras for him, remembering how much he needed them on the daily. You start hiding them in all of your jacket pockets, in your bags, pants--anywhere you could quickly pull some out just in case. Whenever he pats his pockets almost frantically, you just slide in, handing him a packet full of gaskun-10s. The first time it happened he was understandably flabbergasted but quickly reeled it in, thanking you and promptly taking his daily dose from your hands. Had he done it a bit slower, the rest of the Bofurin wouldn't have let him live it down and he would have needed a double dosage for a couple of days. So to return the favor, he's stocking up on your favorite drinks and snacks.

── .✦

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

✦ when you’re both talking about video games and you remind him about his daily login bonuses.

It was just a passing reminder while you were both engrossed in your conversation about the most recent game update and how fussy the past patches were. "Oh shoot--before I forget, you got your daily rewards yet? Didn't you buy the Supply Pass for it?" you ask suddenly, causing Kiryu to pause for a bit before his eyes widen a little. "..shoot. I didn't yet." he responds, fishing his phone out of his pocket before booting up the game. Another huge update released so he's gotta wait for it to fully download. Glancing up at you, he gives you a grateful smile. "Thanks for the reminder."

✦ when you'd often make the first move.

You open doors for him, hold his shopping bags when his hands are full, hell, you even stand in line while you tell him to wait by the table for your food. It's something he's not used to, truly. He was shocked by it initially, trying to take the reins from your hands but you insisted. It's no trouble. He relents, chuckling softly to himself. "Whatever you say," he murmurs, taking a step back to take in the sight of you. He loves seeing you in charge, he realizes.

✦ when he sees you hanging with someone else and it leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Kiryu is a very secure man. He never lets things get to him, always brushing things off with a nonchalant shrug and never really dwells on them. But why is he feeling this way right now? He sees you talking to someone new. A new friend, surely, he thinks. But then that person keeps texting you and you respond just as quick with a smile on your face, laughing at some joke they must have said. Huh. But then he sees you both out in public, your distinct laughter floating towards him as though to taunt him. He turns away before you see him. Days after, you introduce him to your new friend but you can tell he's a bit hesitant with how different he's standing when he sees this person for the "first time", how his smile never reaches his eyes, how stiff he is with the way he shakes his hand. Come to find out it's your cousin that's visiting for a few weeks so you had to show him around town. And like a weight lifted off of him, he could breathe again. You swear you see him light up at the confirmation which left you a little confused. what was that sour taste in his mouth then? OH HE LIKES YOU.

── .✦

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

✦ finds every excuse possible to be close to you. (Never subtle about it too.)

stalker-like tendencies? Yeah kiiiiinda? Sure. But he can’t help it if his heart’s leading the way to you, y’know? He’s had his brains, his wit, his charm guide the trajectory of everything for his entire life — so why not listen to his heart for once? He’s hanging off of your shoulders while you’re out shopping, frozen in place because he arrived so suddenly. He’s gingerly taking the shopping bags out of your hands while you’re walking the street, heart beating out of your chest because you thought you were getting mugged. He only chuckles heartily, ruffling your hair as he walks with you.

✦ when he asks for you to stay after sex.

Goes without saying that Endo gets around. A LOT. When I say a lot, I mean A LOT. They never really lasted long though. Jumping from one lady to another man every other night so easily, he can’t keep track of them. But once you stumbled into his life, he’s cutting all of them off so quickly some of them start to plead and beg him over the phone. Their words all fall on deaf ears though as Endo’s practically worshipping your body, lavishing it with kisses and soft caresses after a couple of rounds. You soon realize it's getting late though. Easing yourself out of the bed and untangling yourself from him, his hand finds your wrist, body almost acting on its own, gently tugging at you. His voice grows softer and his eyes... You've never seen him look at you in such a way before. “Stay?” Another tug. “Please.” And you do. 'Just for tonight', you think.

✦ when you don't fault him for adoring you the way that he does.

this one’s tough. Endo is a lover in every sense of the word. So once he sets his sights on you, if you interest him enough for him to actually want to get to know you better, it’ll be very, very hard for him to let go. His efforts don’t go unnoticed though because eventually, you welcome him into your life and he makes his home in your heart. He’s also a giver. Showering you with gifts, affection, praise, help, money, EVERYTHING. Though you find it excessive sometimes, you appreciate it. So in the best way you know how, you, for the first time, reach over to Endo with an arm outstretched and he flinches as though to prepare for impact. A part of your heart breaks for him. Nothing meets his skin. Nothing hits him. He hears nothing but the soft thrum of your heart and your breathing. He doesn't feel a punch across his face or a harsh kick to his abdomen. It's gentle now. He feels nothing but your warm and comforting arms around his shoulders, encasing him as though to shield him from the world. Finally, he feels himself melt into you. Shakily holding you close to his chest, pressing kisses onto your scalp while he blinks tears away. "What gives?", he chuckles, trying his best to mask his vulnerability. "Just wanted to thank you." you respond, your grip around him tightening ever so slightly, further melting into him. "...anything for you."

a/n: ...admittedly Endo's part was very self indulgent. Last part especially. I can't stomach the abuse okay ;;!!!!! I'm definitely sticking to this new layout. Kinda miss my manga panels kinda off to the side with a laaarge white space beside it layout though...... damn you tumblr and your 10 photo limit! ;; anywho, thank you, dear reader for making it all the way to the end! This took me a little bit to finish ;;;;;;;

[inupibaldspot]

From you, For him

| Part 2 of At him, For him

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover but this time he has the chance to change everything. This contains time travel!

I wrote it in a way you can understand what’s happening even if your don’t read part 1 btw

·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·

Gojo Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe.

He inhales. His chest hurts and he has a horrible attempt at keeping his glazing eyes in check as he fakes a smile and claps his hands together; there was a blur silhouette of Geto and you in a distance in tears ,both wearing matching rings.

“Woah—! Congratulations you two.” Shoko smiles wildly as she brings her hands close to her mouth,cheering. She briefly turns to Gojo and looks back at the couple. “Keep it together,Gojo… you’ve done that for years so why bother showing it now.”

Gojo lets out a laugh. “How cruel…” of course Shoko knows he has had this unrequited love for years. He breathes out. “I’ll head out for a second.”

Shoko nods as she reaches out and puts a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. He mutters a ‘thanks’ as he opens the door, cold breeze immediately greeting him. He breaths in again as his hands search for warmth in his pockets, turning to the alleyway.

Once when he is secluded, he brings out the piece of cigarette Shoko handed him earlier as he places it in between his lips, his hands bringing up the lighter with one on the lighter as the other hand wraps to protect the small flame.

He did not smoke often—more like he didn’t even the last last time he did. Gojo sucks in a breath, his throat feels hot but his chest is lighter, no-he remembers smoking back in high school simply because of Shoko and Geto. His only two friends would leave him for smoke breaks and he didn’t want to be left alone so he simply picked up the habit. 

Gojo quit after he met you since he didn’t feel the need to tag along Geto and Shoko anymore.

Somewhere in between college,meeting you and now, he didn’t seem to care anymore.

“Hey kid.”

“Fuck!” Gojo jumps, his teeth biting into the cigarette as his eyes glare sharply in the direction of the sound. A man sits along the far end of the alley way, away from him.

The white haired man contains his jumped heartbeat as he walks over the man who called him over. His eyes trail the dress he wore; it was a traditional dark piece of clothing and beads around his hand. This man was cosplaying as a Priest. 

He didn’t say the word ‘cosplay’ lightly because first, to begin with, the man in front had a ‘magic ball’ in front of him as if he was waiting for people to share their future and second, he wasn’t too serious because boy—! That monk had thick hair on his head, not the shaven look you’d normally see.

Gojo met scammers; near the shopping center, outside popular restaurant and tourist attractions, by his house ringing on his doorbell and right now, infront of him.

“What‘cha gonna tell me,old man.” Gojo says as he peers in, with also taking in a puff of smoke. “That I’ll be having a wife and two kids in my 30s… If it’s not that, it means one of you is lying.” By ‘one of you‘ refers to the scammer-I mean fortune teller he let in his house because he was bored. 

“Hahaha-! That’s not it.” The man laughs as he faces Gojo directly, it was then when he finally notices a stitch mark which stretches across his forehead. “Just wondering if you’d ever regretted things… ‘things’ which you wished you could go back and change..”

Gojo laughs as he drops the half-piece of cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. No long interested. “Of course. I still wish I could go back in time and not erase my answers because my teacher made all the answers to the MCQ ‘c’ just when I didn’t study.” 

Fuck—just why did Yaga REALLY do that? Gojo thinks back at the thought.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Gojo turns when he hears the man speak. 

The man stands close—very close to him as his hands were making a V-sign (a peace sign) , fingers pointed near his eyes before the old man was stabbed into his eyes.

“Oh my god— shit! That hurt, old man.” Gojo places his hands on his eyes as he tries to soothe the pain from it. “What are you trying to do—huh…?”

He blinks once.

Twice.

He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s fine.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I’ve just lost my mind a tiny bit because y/n and Suguru are getting married.’

Gojo let out the breath and opened his eyes. Same scene. He was by a tree, near a building; he remembered this place being behind the building for the Class 1-3 who were studying the normal curriculum whereas advanced classes of class 4-5 students were in another building. 

“What the actual heck is happening?” Gojo grumbles as he looks at the calendar on his phone. He was back in high school. He was sent back in time by about 7 years. “Fuck… I guess that man wasn’t a quack….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“That’s why I need you to help.” You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you stand, smiling. The teacher,Yaga Masamichi, was in front of you, sitting on his chair as he continued to talk- maybe complain would be a better word- about a certain boy from the advanced class. “The boy is smart but he lacks discipline! He needs someone as hardworking as you and maybe it’ll rub on to him.”

You’ve heard of Gojo Satoru. You’ve never seen him but he was very infamous in high school . First, for being the son of the Gojo Estate. Two, for being a very tall, conventionally attractive boy. Third, for being a delinquent. 

And that last part bothers you a lot, you’ve heard him get into fights, rumors of him smoking along the alleyway, ripping love letters into pieces and recently he skipped over all his tests making him fail his mid-terms. 

You gulp. Hope he doesn’t beat you up… 

Just then the door to the staff room slides open. You see enter, he was tall with white hair and lashes and the eyes in the most beautiful shade. No way this was Gojo right? He was so— beautiful.

Did he just make eye contact with you?

“Gojo come here.” Yaga calls out as he huffs. Gojo clears his throat as he walks to the teacher. When he was close enough Yaga continued. “This is y/n and I’m assigned to be your teacher. She’ll make sure you get all your works done plus make you study for the reassessment for the exam you skipped on.”

You watch Gojo who was towering beside you raise his hands and brought it up to his face, but from the angle you see the upward turn on the corner of his lips. Why was he smiling?

“Isn’t this -he points at you- from the normal department?” You huff when you were referred to as ‘this’. “You sure she is smart?”

“Don’t mess with y/n just because she isn’t from the advanced class— And also! In the last exam she was placed third overall , right below Suguru.” Yaga shouted back.

Your eyes trail back to him when the boy beside you seemed to still, You’ve heard of Geto Suguru too. Apparently a boy from the advanced class who was also popular for his good looks. But not only that— he had a delicate aura around him which makes people like him and to add on he was very much academically smart.

Gojo lets out a breath, as if it were more of an amazement in your opinion. You watch him take a small step back as he turns around and gives you a smile, god was unfair when he crafted this smile. “Then please take care of me, my tutor.” His face was close to yours.

‘My.’ You face almost burst with heat.

“Gojo stop bothering y/n.”

“Ouch—! That hurt sensei.”

Ever since then, once you hear the bell ring indicating school was over for the day, there would be Gojo poking his head into your class with a boyish grin plastered on his face, he takes your book-filled bag, slings it over his shoulder as you guys would walk to the library.

He sometimes passes by your classroom which is in the opposite building whenever he wants to go to the restroom in between classes—I mean he never did specify which restroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

And when he does, his gaze flickered towards you, taking in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.It becomes clear to Gojo then that even now, despite everything—in between ever but of confusion, anger and guilt, he doesn't actually want to lose you. To his best friend. To anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Warm.

The way the curtains fluttered from the gentle wind, letting in a cool breeze and a glow of the evening sun and you. You sitting not even an arm's length away and just like the pace of his heart which picked up, pushing every worry he could still have further and further away because there was no space for those in that moment.

There was just you. And he could feel your presence a lot closer now, her warmth not far away from him.

God, you were beautiful.

So beautiful, he would not mind spending the rest of his life memorizing each feature belonging of yours.

“Stop staring at me.” You let down the pen you were holding, looking away from your homework.

“I can’t stop.” He admitted.

You huff, the smirk on Gojo widened as he could see a faint color rush to your cheeks. “Just do your work…” you wave him off as you grumble.

“I’m already done,love.” He continues his teasing.

You pink as you let out a small shriek at the nickname; you rush close to him as you cover your hands on his mouth. “Shut up—Gojo, I don’t want to be murdered by your fangirls because of this.”

He pecks your hands by pursing his lips forward, into the palm of your hands making you shriek once more pulling away.

“Gojo!” You glare at him as you reach your hands out and comically wipe your hands on his blazer as he laughs at your reaction. He leans forward as he looks at your books. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Ah…” you say as you bring out a book closer to him. “I’m studying for my entrance exam for this university.”

“Already?” But that’s like months away.

“Yeah.” Your voice is laced with a smile, gojo almost sees shining glitters surrounding you. “It’s like… kind of my dream as a kid to go here.”

Gojo laughs at how adorable you sounded. “Why that university though?”

“My parents-“ you turn almost too quickly to face him but then you stop yourself as you clear your throat. “My parents went there and that’s how they met and fell in love.”

“Ah…” Just like you and Geto… His heart pains again as he is reminded.

You bend down as you lean your head on the table, letting out a sigh with your hands on your sides. “I hope I get in though…”

“You will.” He says confidently. He knows you will. “Nerds like you will get in.”

“Gojo, I’m not a nerd.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“I’m not princess either!”

“Sure thing, love.”

“Oh— Gojo,stop that!”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I need you to be serious, Satoru!”

He listens to you shout, even without turning to your direction he could basically sense you ‘huffing and puffing’, a habit you took till adulthood. He reaches out into the bushes, pushing the leaves away. “I am—! Sheesh, let me breathe.” Gojo laughs.

You two were currently near the patch of grass by the football ground; you had lost your key to the music club room—a room which was basically unused but you guys needed a room so you two can continue on with your study lessons. 

You bend to look over the bushes while Gojo does around the bushes checking every shrub. “Oh lucky— someone’s cigarette and lighter is hidden  here.” His smile widens as he reaches out for the gift, someone had kept here. “Satoru, don’t steal others' stash.” He puts it down upon hearing your words.

“So this where you go after classes,Satoru?”

He knew it was inevitable but he hoped he could extend it for as long as he could.

In front of him, holding a key was Geto Suguru, smiling at him with Shoko, a lollipop in her mouth peers over from beside him. “What you doing?”

Geto throws him the key at him which is catches instantly.He wanted the two of his friends meet you but he selfishly hoped it would be after like maybe, after you and Gojo date. Wow—what an optimistic! Gojo gulps, afterall what would he do if the two of you fall in love again? 

“You found it!” You jump, unaware that the two figures were his friends. You turn your head to look at him, at him. Despite Geto Suguru standing near you, you looked at Gojo. The white haired boy’s heart pulsed, the slow and steady pump now erratic and heavy with emotions. Just you looking at him with a smile, at him like he was the only one on the planet m. For the first time.

“Who is this?” Shoko says as walks to to the bush and sticks her hands in. You laugh. “That cigarette was yours?” Shoko nods.

“This… this is y/n.” Gojo grumbles, speaking low. “She is helping me with my reassessment.”

“That’s what you get for skipping assignments and test.” Shoko teases. 

Geto laughs.

Gojo eyes at your reaction and sighs in relief when you were still acting the same. Thank god, there was nothing of that ‘love at first sight’ going on. “I don’t need to take those test.Even Yaga knows I’m smart.”

Your roll your eyes. “I guess we won’t have those study sessions of now on, Gojo.”

“Wha— no! I need it.” Gojo jumps, as he comically starts shaking you, as if he got the most shocking news of the century. “No- nope! You can’t do that. I need you—!”

“Geto, let’s get going now.” She turns. Shoko looks over to Gojo, they make eye contact and the brown hair girl smiles. 

He knows that smile. 

That’s the smile Shoko gives when ever she figures out something. And equipped with a teasing look, Gojo is certain she knows that he is in love with you. “Good luck,Gojo.” With his studies or with you? Geto gives you guys a wave as he also turns around and walks way. 

From then onwards, it’s as if the friendship which you guys have in the future,college days were happening now. Hanging out, study sessions, sometimes sneaking into parties and café date; the four of you. Just like right now as you’re in Gojo’s room, a flat rented nearby your future college.

“No way.” Shoko starts. “We’re all going to be attending the same college.” Her smile widens when you cheer and jump into her arms, she quickly looks over and sees a fond smile on Gojo’s face…hilarious!

Geto laughs as he takes a sip on his coffee as the two girls snuggle closer to each other. “Did you know about this?” He peers over to Gojo who finally seemed broken from his trance—you.

Gojo nods. “Yeah… I mean I’ve seen her study for her exams.” He clears his throat. “Have you played the new ‘digimon’ game?” He changes topic, whenever Geto speaks of you or to you, it makes him feel small. This isn’t good. He relishes this yet it was suffocation. Gojo would never hate his best friend—never, but sometimes it’s insecurity and sometimes it’s guilt which swallows him whole. ‘Is this okay?’ 

Shoko breaks away from the hug and she pulls on your cheeks fondly, she thinks you’re the most adorable human as she turns to Geto. “Smoke break.” Geto smiles and nods, following behind Shoko who led the way.

Gojo turns to you, eyes carefully trying to take in your presence that is before he notices something—your eyes are ‘lingering.’ He follows your gaze, carefully in the direction.

You were looking at Geto.

All emotions are wiped from his face. Gojo knew this could happen, you can fall in love with Geto all over again. He was the one who was messing with fate and time, yet— it hurt.

You turn to Gojo, your face tilts up to meet his gaze as your lips turn into a teasing smile which quickly flatters when you see Gojo’s expression. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of his hands. “…Satoru?”

He turns to you, and smiles. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“No…just thinking.”

You gulp wondering why it felt as if suddenly there was a huge rift when they were barely centimeters apart; for someone as big as Gojo his voice was so—so small. “…About?” You were almost scared to ask.

“Are you in love with Suguru?” Gojo beats himself for this, he has gone and done it now! 

You tilt your head. “where did that come from?”

“Friends don’t give each other love-filled lingering looks.” He scoffs. “So tell me-“ no he was being pushy. Gojo felt so backed into a corner for a moment but when he locked eyes with you, he was hurting you with the way he was acting.

He stands up. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“If I did love him, what would you do?” 

Were you testing him? 

“Please—please don’t fall for anyone but me…” he mumbles.

You watch as he slumps down on the floor, on his knees, burying his face into his hands, curling up almost as if to protect himself. Gojo is no longer confident egoistic boy you know, right now he seemed so weak; as if he was tired after a long journey. “I have surrendered myself to you for all of time; past, present and future I am yours…”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. Gojo feels like he is losing himself in his thoughts and also rambles with no coherence to what his mind has to say. “I don’t know what do do with this emotion but if I try to stop them they overflow and-” 

His heart seemed to thud to a stop in his chest and then start up again erratically, hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang close by his sides.

“Satoru, I love you…” you whisper and it is only then when he realizes you were also on your knees in front of him, thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for joking— I don’t love Geto. It’s you I love. Don’t hate me?”

How can he hate you when you were still his everything: you were his everything even when you were intertwining hands with someone else?

“It’s me?” He breathes out. “Did you say you’re in love with me?” 

You nod.

“Oh wow.” He says which makes you laugh.

“I love you…” He says, years of these words inside the depth of his heart, was dug out. “From the bottom of my soul, I’m head over heels for you, my love.”

You almost cry at his tone, so gentle.

He caresses your hair, tenderly, running his fingers through the soft, silky strands. When he eventually has his hands on your cheeks; your cheeks flushing as he gazes at you, captivated by your presence. Your eyes sparkle with wonder, your lips plush and rosy. 

You are flawless, perfect in this moment and beautiful in his embrace.

Gojo didn’t even realize when he started to get so close to you. His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin.His limbs burned where he touched you, you were warm. So it was cold after all, he realized somewhere along the line. His hands were freezing, clinging to your lower back. 

Gojo wants to stay like this, holding you for a minute longer or forever.

A whisper in his head was telling him to let go—that it wasn’t right, but Gojo wouldn't. He was hanging onto a life line, it hurt, but if he let go now, he would drown.

Gojo was vulnerable. And you kiss him back. Kiss him till he is fine. Kiss him until all his worries fly— till he understands, you are equally so stupidly in love with him. 

Unbeknownst to you two, Shoko peeks over inside the door, a small crack reveals what’s inside “You think they’re done?”

Geto laughs. “Of course not…but give them more time and they’ll be in bed.”

Shoko laughs lightly making sure she isn’t spotted yet as she then peers over to the taller boy beside her. “What about you? You good?”

“Yeah… it was just a crush.”  Geto looked at Shoko from the corner of his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. Shoko was always so observant. 

Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡—I tagged people who voted for time travel! Hope you guys don’t mind: @uuu55r64z46 @leviswifey-act62 @royaleashlyn @bakananya @bejwls @ritsatoru@washeduphasbeen @satorus-babygirl

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here

[i-cast-teatus-deletus]

Not everyone wants or needs a wedge pillow for recovery, but Strategist did an article in early August profiling a few recommendations at a couple of different price points.

I'm hoping they'll do an updated post on backrests/husband pillows sometime soon, since the last one they did was in 2020 and I think one of their selections out of the whole list is still available for purchase.

[kenzieluvsnanami]

kenzieluvssuguru :: ☆*:.｡.o the roommate (18+) o.｡.:*☆

You were sure you hated him. From the crown of his silky, jet black hair to the bottom of his bunny-slipper clad feet. Everything he did pissed you off. Whether it’s finishing your very expensive shampoo or sneaking bites of your carefully hidden sweet treats, one thing was for certain: Geto Suguru knew how to get and STAY on your last nerve. (f!reader x suguru)

cw *:･ﾟ✧ roommate/no curses/college au, reader is overworked and underpaid 😭, auditory voyeurism? (by reader).. readers basically a cuck (unknown to suguru, sooo dubcon kinda), cheeky suguru/slight humour (cant help myself), dirty talk, OF references, description of the devils tango (but not w reader) and mastúrbation *:･ﾟ✧♡ 3.2k words // part 1 , part 2

He had become your roommate at the beginning of second year. Having an egregiously rich grandmother who liked her grandkids to earn their keep had its perks at times, one of those being the inheritance of a beautifully furnished townhouse that was only a half hour commute from your university.

However, the downside was the substantial cost of maintaining the house. Bills pilled up fast and whilst your grandmother was lounging in Turks and Caicos, you were working multiple jobs: the campus coffee shop on off-days, a drum and bass club on the weekend and tutoring whenever time allowed.

It was

Wearing.

You.

Down.

By the end of the second semester you had enough. Physically and emotionally drained, you sat down and pondered over all the possible avenues of making money - ASAP since energy companies were not necessarily known for their patience and generosity. Whilst starting an OF was firmly out of the equation, it did give you an idea. Instead of selling yourself, you could sell your home! Ok, not the whole house - but there was a spare room adjoined to yours, fully furnished with its own small terrace. A charming, spacious place where many students living on campus dorms would love to be. However, who did you know that was willing to move out this late in second year? Most had already settled into their new homes and were already accustomed to the people they lived with. You tried asking around but unfortunately it was all rejection.

Dejected, you slinked into your critical analysis class that evening, eye bags so heavy they were almost pulling your eyes shut. The tiredness must have put you you some sort of delirious state because when you sat in your usual seat as you pondered over your situation... aloud?!

"you want someone move in with you?" echoed the mild-mannered man beside you.

Confused and slightly taken aback, he asked you to repeat yourself, to make sure he heard you clearly. Rather frustrated, you grumbled out the question not even meaning to ask him about your situation and to your surprise - he actually said yes. Eyes widening and back moderately straighter, you exchanged contact information and asked him to meet tomorrow so you can discuss more.

You had left the lecture shaken out of your fatigued stupor and felt a tinge of regret already. You barely know this man. All you knew was that his name was Geto Suguru, he’s in your class and will be your new roommate in the next couple of weeks. From what you had gathered from your brief interactions, he seemed like a normal person… at least you hoped so.

You knew he was well mannered. Remembering from the time you tripped over his foot, limbs flailing awkwardly - and how he’d lunged out, firmly grasping you by the waist to stop you from falling flat onto your face. As soon as you had steadied, he apologised profusely with slightly flushed cheeks and averted eyes.

He seemed well kept, his full, shoulder-length hair was never greasy or out of place. Either in a half-up bun or flowing freely, it was definitely a cause for envy. He dressed neatly, loose jeans or joggers with a plain tee or sweatshirt seemed to be his staples. Fingernails were slender - elegant, your sideways glances during lectures providing a view of his graceful, willowy hands. Long and dainty fingers gently tapping on the laptop in front of him.

All known factors considered, when it comes to roommates you seemed to have won the lottery. A quiet and respectful man seemed like a few in a dozen in this generation. How lucky were you!

The first few weeks were like a sort of honeymoon period. Sharing a space with someone you didn’t know was as awkward as you would think it would be. Small smiles when you ran into each other in the hallway and if you were feeling bold, some small talk over breakfast before your shared class.

The ice was breaking between the two of you as you slowly adapted around each others routines. Everything seemed to be going perfectly. You were getting more sleep due to the fact that you didn’t have to work as hard to pay your bills (thanks to your dual income) and actually felt like a human being for once.

Feeling human meant that a lot of additional needs had been forgone and most importantly your dormant libido had jumped back alive. That itself was nothing to write home about but it was more so how you came to this realisation which was.

It was 3 months prior, when you had left your room for a late night snack. Wrapped in your hello kitty throw, you softly pattered down the hall into the kitchen. Treats successfully acquired, you walked back into the hall and was greeted with a mass of steam flowing out from the bathroom, a tall figure emerging.

It was your room mate (duh) but in a way you had never had seen him before. His raven hair was deliciously tousled - the messiest you had ever seen it and...

it. was. beautiful.

The towel wrapped around his slight waist exposed his athletic build, deceptively slim but a slight flex allowed you to see the unbridled power hidden within. His ab definition was exemplified by the drops of water falling from the light smattering of hair trailing down to his deep cut V line.

He was absolutely stunning.

You were frozen for more than a few seconds, marvelling at the discovery of this new side to your roommate. He was… heavenly. You didn’t even realise Suguru had fully left the bathroom until you felt a warm gust of air as he swished past you, a drop of water splashing onto your face as he teasingly poked you. You sped back into the safety of your room and slammed the door. He had you salivating like a damn dog by just a flash of his upper body?? Yes, he may have looked good (a bit more than good actually) but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before.

Since that night, the dynamics of your relationship had imperceptibly changed. You couldn’t really describe how in a concise manner but Suguru had definitely changed. He was much more bold - seemingly doing everything in his power to make you flustered.

It first started with him wearing less and less clothes in the common areas of the house. You weren't completely unreasonable, leaving his room in just his red plaid PJ bottoms and those god forsaken bright pink bunny slippers could be excused. After all, this was his new home and you did want him to be comfortable. You just had to be mindful of not staring too long into his plump, juicy pectorals that were practically two small pillows that you could just face plant into. Not to mention the absolute dumptruck he was carrying from behind. During your dinners together (you always ended up cooking way more for yourself than needed), you really had to fight to keep your eyes fixed onto his face as he spoke and even then you’d find yourself being drawn further and further into his deep, purple eyes. Even his voice, calm, even and low was akin to a sirens call, causing you to be further and further enraptured with him.

Why couldn’t you just be normal about your roommate. You know plenty of people who houseshare with the opposite sex and it doesn’t seem to be as hard for them as it is for you. Maybe you just need a quick fuck? Something to get it out of your system so you can stop feeling like so…. lustful during the most regular exchanges.

It was hard to stop thinking thoughts like that when you would come home from a study group or be leaving early for a shift at the cafe to find Suguru slumped over the couch casually watching a telenovela or a 2000s sitcom. This normally would not be any kind of issue if for the fact he wasn’t practically naked par a grey set of loose Calvin Klein boxers.

The first time this happened you were almost late for work, your body physically refusing to move at the sight of his thick thighs, corded muscles tensing as he swung his legs down from resting on the cushion next to him and patted the space beside him - gesturing for you to sit. The soft smile on his face, eyes shut, eyebrows relaxed and seemingly in a state of inexplicable bliss for someone with 12 assignments due that week was all a bit too much for you to handle as you snapped out of your daze and rushed out of the door.

Suguru’s next ‘misstep’ was his use of almost all of your things and general disregard for personal space. He seemed to find joy in watching you put two and two together and realise that the reason why the whole house smells like Shea vanilla is because he “accidentally” used your body wash whilst bathing and so “just had to” grab the matching lotion, body oil and spray from your room - so he didn’t “smell confused”.

To think that this was the same man who was so quiet when he first moved in honestly is beyond human comprehension, his eyes crinkling shut as he laughed with genuine glee about how in the process of looking for the spray he tripped over your charging hitachi wand.

“Is my roommate feeling a bit pent up?” he drawled as he fake pouted, the tips of your ears burning at the fact that the object of your current infatuation knew about what you did in your… free time. “I was wondering what all that buzzing was last night.”

Suguru was comfortable at your shared house. Too comfortable. Which leads us to what happened today, what you considered to be the most egregious misstep by your roommate and would have made you so pissed if it hadn’t made you so wet.

It’s a Friday - nothing too crazy about that fact, it was just the week coming to an end. As your professor informs you of the upcoming assignments for the following week, Suguru leans down to tell you that he might be home a bit later than usual as he wanted to go to a friends houseparty. This isn’t anything too out of the ordinary, you knew that he was quite well known amongst the second years and as a result he was always flitting in and out the house midweek. You didn't really understand why he was specifically informing you of his whereabouts this time but you thanked him and made your way straight to coffee shop to start your shift.

Today was by far the hardest shift you’ve ever had, the sheer volume of people you had to serve and the few staff that were booked in to work. You were absolutely exhausted. You definitely were up for an orgasm or two to destress and your.. personal massager would be fully charged by the time you got home.

Clocked out at 7 and you were currently speed walking back to the house. A warm bath, filling meal and rewatching one of the telenovela’s Suguru had introduced to you sounded like an excellent plan. Just the action of running the bath, pouring the salts and soap and stripping off your stiff uniform silenced all the noise in your mind - you could truly feel the tension rolling off your body as you eased into the bathtub.

After an hour long soak, you made a wholesome pasta dish and binge watched TV until you started to feel your eyelids drooping shut as the day begun to catch up with you. You dragged yourself to your room, the silk sheets and quilted comforter lulling your weary body to a sweet, sweet slumber.

That was until… 1.27am according to your bedside clock. The loud bang of the front door shook you awake but it’s what you heard next that kept you up.

A bang on the hallway wall and what sounded like... kissing? Sloppy and heated, you could hear the mewls and whines of a woman coupled by occasional groans from what had to be… your roommate?

Footsteps got louder and louder until you could hear them through the shared wall between your rooms. The bed creaked as it hit the bedroom wall and you could hear the low murmur of your roommate’s voice. Almost instinctually, you carefully raised yourself up from the bed and pressed your ear to the wall to hear better.

“You’re going to take allllll of it, okay?” Suguru said lowly, the woman giggling as he retorted “Don’t get shy with me now. We both know you were begging for it.”

You knew what you were doing was fucked up. How could you keep eavesdropping on your roommate fucking another girl but somehow you were unable to tell your body, warmth pooling in your core.

The soft thud of clothes hitting the ground was accompanied by the rejoining of the pair, the loud kissing and sounds of scattered bedsheets made you ponder. This was the first time you had ever heard Suguru do anything remotely sexual. He made jokes (mainly to your demerit) about the apparent lack of sex and I mean, you appreciated that he respected the space that the two of you shared by not always having people over or at least doing it when you weren’t home but part of you just innately knew that he wasn’t seeing anyone - serious or casual. That’s why this is so unexpected.. but not unwanted.

See, it had interrupted your much needed sleep but you couldn’t deny how horny this was making you. The fact that you could hear what it would be like to fuck your roommate and the added taboo of him not knowing you could hear - you were almost soaked in your own essence, a hand snaking down to your pyjama bottoms so that you could alleviate some of your pent-up tension.

“Open your mouth” Suguru demanded. A slight pause in movements as you heard what must have been a fat, wad of his saliva splash into the woman’s mouth. “Good girl” he cooed, the woman moaning back in pure, unadulterated need.

You stifled your own whine, the delicious pressure of your fingertips on your swollen nub combined with your roommates filthy, sinful words had you so close. The woman gasped at what you can only imagine being Suguru finally pulling down those grey boxers. Another splash and a steady, slick rhythm began - probably Suguru stroking himself, long slender fingers wrapping tight around his base dragging his hand right up to the tip, thumb swirling to collect any pre-cum to lubricate his shaft even more.

“Please..” the woman pleaded. “Please what?” Suguru chided “If you are going to beg at least beg properly”. “Please..please put it in” she mumbled. “You’re still not asking properly but” A loud squelch and the woman’s even louder moan interrupted Suguru’s almost lazy drawl. He seemed so relaxed, responding back as if he himself didn’t want this as bad as she did. “I’m in a good mood so I’ll do as you wish” he punctuated his sentence with a sharp thrust, the already worn bed frame jolting into the wall as he fully buried himself into this woman.

Her mewls seemed to get even higher and higher in pitch as the two established a steady rhythm. Hand firmly placed along your slit, you toyed with oozing entrance and sensitive clit - middle and ring finger prodding into your hole, scissoring and feeling your inner walls. You gathered some more of your essence and spread it onto your thumb, applying more and more pressure as you swirled your bud. It was like you were in a freaked out flow state, your mind purely focused on achieving that high. You tuned out the shrieks of the other woman and honed in on your roommates low grunts, imaging how tense his abs would be from the sheer effort he would be putting, arms caged around you in missionary as he just plowed straight into you until you both came.

The bed creaks became more and more frequent, your hand moving faster and faster as you heard the woman cry out one last time and start sobbing. It seemed your roommate had slowed down slightly, close himself as the thrusts became more slow and tempered not hitting the wall as loudly. You were so so close, focusing on deep breathing to slow it down so that you could come undone at the same time as him.

As he got close himself, you could hear some sort of low rumble… was he.. whining? You could also hear his murmured praises to his partner “You did so good… thank you so much… your so pretty…ngh.. all…urghh….fucked out…mffh.. like this”. He seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth, so close to the edge. Even though you knew he wasn’t talking to you, all the words just melted into your brain adding to your dazed, enraptured state. You couldn’t hold out any longer, fingers moving into overdrive as you reached your peak and fell head first into the mind-numbing pleasure of release as you heard Suguru’s muffled cry as he came.

As the static from your ears started to clear and you were finally able to come back to earth from that earth-shattering orgasm, you could hear a slightly more heated conversation happening in the adjoined room.

“What the fuck was that” the woman whisper shouted while pulling on her clothes. “What the fuck do I know??” puffed your roommate as he seemed to pace around the room. “You just groaned another girls name as you came Suguru. That’s fucked up.. Seriously?” You could practically hear the sheepish look on his face as the door banged for a second that night.

How can he moan another girls name whilst he’s balls deep inside of her? I mean thinking back you may have heard him say your name but that was just because you were in a freaked out flow state, right?… right?

And that’s why at 3.09am you had come to the solid conclusion that you hated Geto Suguru. He was obnoxious, used your stuff AND had the cheek to mock you for what’s in your room but most importantly he fucked a girl and said your name whilst he came. Not only did he hurt this poor girl but he left you even more confused. Where do you even go from here? Did he know you heard the whole thing? Even if he did what does this change? Your hot roommate maybe does want to pipe you? This should be a good thing but for some reason you know it’s going to be more complicated than that...

part 2

a/n *:･ﾟ✧♡ :: credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers! part 2 shld be done by the 10th (no promises 😭) but i lowk do want to drag it out to a three parter.

likes and reblogs make me squirt!

[jamiefartt]

richmond's receptionist; part three

part 1, part 2

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, whole cast is mentioned

summary: with Rebecca's charity gala rapidly approaching, Jamie tries to get you to be his date, so why not take you dress shopping?

words: 19 458

warnings: no smut but hot n steamy descriptions and def some thirsting, alcohol (pls don't mix ur drinks).

outfit references: x your dress x Keeley's dress x Rebecca's dress

———

standing in front of the small mirror hanging above your bathroom sink, you brush your fingers through your damp hair. you're dressed in your work clothes, chic pleated trousers paired with a billowy blue blouse tucked into the waistband. you sigh as you lean on the sink, the porcelain cool to the touch. you pick up your mascara from next to the sink, leaning close to the mirror and carefully brushing it onto your eyelashes. once applied, you admire the way your eyes pop, accentuated by the makeup.

normally, you would dot some blush across your cheeks, but expecting you'll be seeing Jamie at work all day, you know you won't need the added flush of colour.

adding a tint of red to your lips, you begin doing your hair, masterfully tying it up into a half-up half-down hairstyle. you pucker your lips in the mirror, turning your head side to side to make sure everything is in place. a smile appears on your face, your confidence surging as you look at yourself.

as much as you're getting ready for yourself, you can't help but imagine the look on Jamie's face when he sees you today, especially after the teasing trick you pulled on him yesterday evening. of course you always try to look good at work, but the added effort is worth it for the potential to make the Jamie Tartt even a little bit flustered.

the music playing through your cozy apartment is interrupted by your phone ringing, and you rush from the bathroom to turn it off, toothbrush still in your mouth. seeing Keeley's name written across your screen, you answer, and the call opens onto her sitting at her vanity doing her own makeup.

"hey babe," she says, mouth agape in an O-shape as she curls her eyelashes. she's wrapped in her fluffy pink dressing gown and has matching coloured hair curlers wrapped in her locks.

"good morning, y/n." Roy speaks from the plush sofa behind her. in contrast to Keeley, he's fully dressed, leather jacket and all.

you wave at the couple, walking back to the bathroom to rinse your mouth. once the toothbrush and suds are down the drain, you can finally say: "hey guys! how are things?"

Roy says nothing, only giving you a thumbs up as he keeps his eyes on the book he's reading. back in your bedroom, you place your phone on the bed as you begin sliding on your staple jewellery.

"great! now, listen y/n, Rebecca's charity gala is this weekend and we need to get you a dress," Keeley says sternly, now putting on mascara.

"oh– I'm sure I have a dress in my closet somewhere," you say, turning and opening your cupboard to see if you have anything adequate.

Keeley bursts into a cackle, catching you off guard; "no, no, you need something new... something expensive and rich that will blow Jamie's socks off! or, you know, you could do that."

"oh my God, Keeley!" you shriek, your mouth flying open at her words. her laugh echoes loudly through your phone and you can't help but giggle along with her. picking up your phone, you head to your living room, grabbing your handbag from the sofa before heading to the front door.

Keeley continues explaining as you struggle to slip on your shoes with your free hand whilst holding your phone and your bag in the other; "I've booked you an appointment for tomorrow at a dress boutique in town. I can go with you if you'd like, just let me know."

"oh wow, that's amazing. thank you so so much!" with your flats slipped on, you pick up your work heels and shove them in your bag. you pant a breath before clicking open your door and heading out to your hallway. your voice echoes as you head into the stairwell of your apartment building; "are you sure, Keeley? I mean, it seems a bit excessive and I doubt I could afford anything too exp–"

"where the fuck are you?" Keeley interrupts you, peering at her phone screen with squinted eyes.

"I'm leaving my place, I like taking the stairs." you shrug in response.

"ooh, is that how you keep your glutes so tight then?" she sticks her tongue out at you playfully, and you laugh at her words.

"shut up," you reply and playfully roll your eyes.

"anyway," Keeley continues, "don't worry about the price, Rebecca said she'd cover it."

your eyes blow wide open, and you almost tumble down the stairs in shock; "what?! no, absolutely not!"

"hush, y/n, I don't wanna hear it. we're gonna make you look the sexiest you ever have in your life!"

finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, having descended 4 whole floors, you push through the double doors leading to the small car park outside. passing straight past your beaten-up old car, you walk onto the footpath.

"Keeley, I really don't think I can accept that,"

"are you walking to work?" she says, ignoring your sentiment. you shake your head a little, surprised by her question.

"yeah?"

"why?"

"because I like to walk."

"Keeley–" Roy begins, but Keeley interrupts him, "okay, y/n, gotta go. see you at work!"

before you can say bye, your phone beeps, and the screen goes black. you stop in your tracks, staring down at your phone. quickly typing in your password, you go to check your texts.

"oi!" someone shouts to you, and the fright almost makes you drop your phone. a hand flies to your chest as you look up, not at all expecting who you see.

"Isaac?" you ask, leaning down to look through his car window.

"get in. lemme give you a lift." he says before pressing a button on his dashboard. the passenger door suddenly opens, and your eyebrows raise at his evidently very expensive sports car.

without a word, you drop your phone into your handbag and walk around the car, slipping into the passenger seat.

"thanks, Isaac." you smile at him, and surprisingly, he cracks a wide, toothy one back at you. the sight makes you smile even more, and you wonder if you're bond with the Richmond players is going beyond just Jamie.

"were you walking to work?" he asks you, pushing his foot to the gas pedal and continuing down the road.

"yeah?"

"why?"

"because I like– why is that so shocking?"

your frustration evident in your voice, Isaac glances at you with a scared expression. "I was just asking," he mutters, and you sigh in exaggerated annoyance with a smile before turning your head to look out the car window. you settle into a few seconds of silence, just admiring the view of Richmond's greenery as you drive. music plays quietly through Isaac's speakers, and you enjoy the peaceful company.

"Isaac?" you ask, still staring out the window.

"yeah?" he replies gently.

"has Jamie ever mentioned me at training or anything?"

Isaac chuckles to himself, thinking for a moment before replying: "he doesn't talk about you really, but he does ask about you."

"what do you mean?" you turn to look at him, placing your elbow on the door and playing with your hair.

"like, when Keeley comes in to do promo with us, he'll hang back to ask her questions about you."

"like what?" you feel a blush appear on your face as you get shy at the thought.

"a few weeks ago, when the sign-in thing started, he asked her how long you'd worked at Richmond. then a few days later, he asked her if you were single."

"really?" you laugh, "what a slag."

Isaac laughs with you, shaking his head; "truer words have never been spoken,"

a few beats pass as your laughter dies down, and the thought of Jamie being so curious about you surprises you. he always acts so cool and unbothered, and you've only seen him soften a few times, so knowing he still thought about you before you'd even properly spoken warms something in your chest.

"but, y/n, I do wanna say..." Isaac keeps his eyes on the road as his voice softens, "whatever it is Jamie feels towards you, it's clearly something real. since you two have been doing this thing, he's been kinder, not just to us but also himself. I don't know how you got through to him, but whatever it is please don't stop. we've all seen the way he looks at you, he really likes you, mate."

lips parted and eyes wide, your gaze is fixed on the road in front of you. you're speechless, and all that's going through your mind is Jamie; how he looks at you, how he touches you, his scent and the feeling of his lips brushing past yours. before you can think of anything to say, Isaac pulls into the Richmond car park. he parks his car smoothly, slotting it next to Colin's dented Lamborghini.

"look, you don't have to tell me how you feel about him, but try not to break his heart too much if you have to." Isaac says, turning to look at you.

you nod a few times, clicking open your seatbelt before looking up at him through your eyelashes; "Isaac," you say, "I'm way too into him to break his heart."

he squints at you, obviously suppressing a smile, and he presses the buttons to open your doors.

"cheers, bruv." he nods at you.

"thanks for the lift, Isaac." you nod at him too.

both of you exit the car without another word, and you hurry in the door so you can get started with your day. unsurprisingly, Colin is already inside standing at your desk.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles at you.

"hey, Colin. sorry I'm late!" you hop behind the desk and sit in your chair, quickly changing your flats into your heels. you take the sign-in clipboard from atop the desk, only to notice you don't need to change its pages at all.

"oh," you say before putting it back in its place, "can I help you with anything Colin?"

you expect Colin to answer, but he stays silent as Isaac squeezes past him and signs in. you stare at him expectantly, and Colin just looks at you nervously until Isaac is walking down the hallway.

"are you okay?" you ask him quietly, leaning closer to him. he glances around suspiciously, making sure the coast is clear and Isaac is out of earshot.

"yeah, I just need your advice on something."

"hit me," you smile.

"I've been seeing this guy for maybe... two or three months? and I'm not sure if it's too soon to invite him to the gala this weekend."

"oh my God, Colin! that's so exciting! I'd say go for it, it's definitely not too soon." you assure him, smiling wide. his face mirrors yours and a blush appears on his cheeks.

"okay, great, thanks y/n!" he says before jogging down the hallway and to the locker room.

you smile to yourself, wondering when you became his go-to for advice. you won't complain, you're happy to make friends with the Richmond players.

"what's he so happy about?" Jamie's voice pipes up beside you as he places a coffee cup on your desk, watching as Colin borderline skips his way through the building.

you smile at him, picking up the cup. before it reaches your lips you look up at him with a sceptical look; "this isn't gonna be fucking green tea again is it?"

"don't worry, love." he assures you, sending you a wink as he finishes signing in. placing his elbow on your desk, he leans against it casually, smirking down at you. you furrow your brows, slightly suspicious of his intentions after the morning before. taking a sip, you're pleasantly delighted at the taste, although he didn't bring you a latte.

"hot chocolate?" you smile up at Jamie.

"yeah..." he says, eyes soft and smile genuine, "with a shot of whiskey."

your face drops suddenly as the aloholic aftertaste hits your throat. your nostrils flare as hot anger fills your veins, and you stand up from your seat in shock; "Jamie! what the fuck?!"

Jamie sticks his tongue out and cackles, slapping a hand to your desk before running backwards down the hallway. as you stand behind your desk, breath heaving, he blows you a kiss.

frustrated, you roll your eyes and grunt, sitting down again. you pick up your cup, lifting the lid and bringing it to your face. you inhale, instantly smelling the whiskey in the drink. with a gag, you push the lid back on, putting the cup far away from you on your desk. a grimace paints your face as you try to swallow the flavour away, but the gross liquid feels coated down your throat.

"y/n!" Keeley exclaims, excitement painted on her face as if you hadn't been speaking just this morning, "what's wrong with your face?"

"Jamie put whiskey in my fucking hot chocolate." you whine, rolling your eyes again.

"oooh, lemme have a sip," she says, holding her palms together as a plea.

"I don't think he'll ever bring me an actual latte ever again," your lips pout as you slump back in your chair.

Keeley ignores your complaint, quickly scribbling down her name before saying: "your fitting appointment is tomorrow at 6:30 after work. let me know if you'd like me to join!"

"thank you so much Keeley but I don't want to take Rebecca's money just for a dress,"

"it's not just a dress, y/n, it's a gown." she presses.

Rebecca's heels click into the building as if on cue, and she smiles wide at the two of you as she approaches.

"Rebecca! please tell y/n you don't mind buying her a dress for the gala." Keeley sighs.

"I thought you just said it was a gown, not a dress." you tease, and she rolls her eyes at you in response.

"oh, don't be silly! of course I don't care – in fact, I actively want to. can't have my employees looking cheap, now can I?" Rebecca states in a cocky tone, picking up the pen and signing in.

you look at her with an grateful look; "thank you, Rebecca, seriously."

she shoots you a wink before saying: "don't worry about it. we need you looking good for Jamie, don't we?" you can't help but blush at her words, overwhelmed by the gracious gift.

"my hair stylist and the girl who does my makeup is coming over to mine after work on Friday, we should all get ready together!" Keeley says, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"that sounds lovely!" you say.

"I'll be there." Rebecca adds.

Keeley squeals as she waves; "see you later, girls!"

Rebecca smiles at you with a nod before walking to her office, and your excitement for the gala has finally kicked in. you think to yourself; an event where everyone is dressed up to the nines, with music and an open bar? what could go wrong?

—

the next day, as you make yourself a latte in the staff room, you're surprised by two strong hands suddenly gripping your shoulders. two thumbs dig into your skin, massaging the taught muscles.

"Jesus woman, why are you so tense?" Jamie whispers in your ear, lips grazing your skin.

your eyes flutter as you struggle to keep them open, the pressure of his fingers instantly relaxing you. you smile to yourself, dropping your head back, leaning against his shoulder.

"I would be a lot more relaxed if my morning coffee wasn't such a fucking gamble every day," you joke, looking up at him through your eyelashes, "mouthwash, Jamie... really?"

Jamie chuckles to himself, smiling at his own prank. using his grip on your shoulders, he lifts you off his shoulder, spinning you around to face him. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you close to him. standing chest to chest, you can smell his cologne, woody and rich on your senses.

"you smell nice," you say absentmindedly, not thinking before speaking the thought out loud.

"ya think so? cheers, it's Tom Ford." he says with a cheeky wink, clearly bragging.

rolling your eyes, you cock your head to the side. when you look up at him again, his face holds an expression you haven't seen before. his pupils are blown wide and a small smile sits on his pouty lips.

"what?" you ask, a smile creeping onto your face too.

"nothin'" Jamie mumbles, and you can feel his thumbs rubbing up and down your sides. his eyes move to your lips, and you blush in response. nervously, you fill your cheeks with air and purse your lips as he stares at them. he chuckles at your funny face, quickly leaning down and pecking your lips. the kiss makes you drop the expression, and his eyes finally meet yours again. you raise your eyebrows and pull your head back, and his grin grows at your surprised eyes.

"what?" he says nonchalantly.

"nothin'" you say with a fake deep voice, mocking him.

as he laughs, Jamie moves one of the hands from your waist to your back, sliding it up your spine. when he gets to your hair, he wraps his fingers around the long strands and tugs lightly, tilting your chin up. your eyes threaten to close again, and your heartbeat quickens as Jamie's eyes darken.

"wanna kiss me properly Tartt?" you whisper, teasing him with a smile.

taking a few painfully long seconds to drag his eyes over every inch of your face, he eventually drops the hand from your hair. his other hand leaves your waist as he takes a step away from you. as he spins on his heel to leave he says: "you wish."

you tsk at him, rolling your eyes while shaking your head. turning to the beeping coffee machine, your mouth speaks before your brain thinks; "Jamie," you call after him, turning back around. he reappears in the doorway in merely a split second, hand resting on the doorframe as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. "I have to go buy a dress for the gala after work and I need a lift... would you mind coming with me?"

Jamie's eyebrows relax, but his eyes widen as he stares at you, blank expression on his face. you can't read what he's thinking, immediately regretting your question: "if you can't, that's fine, I just–".

"yes." he breathes, "yes, yeah, course I'll go with ya,"

you smile at him shyly, and his straight face turns into a smiling one as he mirrors you. you nod at him as a silent thanks, and he nods back before making his way back to training. taking your cup from the machine, you smile to yourself. as you pour a sugar packet into it, you shake your head, wondering how you got into this game with Jamie in the first place.

as the time approaches six o'clock, you wait impatiently for the Richmond team to sign out. as your colleagues say goodbye and sign their names, you politely smile and chat to them, and by the time the players make their way through the hallway, you're halfway out of your chair. standing up, you pick up your handbag and shove your things into it.

"you in a hurry, y/n?" Sam laughs.

"going on another date with Tartt?" Colin adds.

"leave the two love birds alone, bruv." Isaac says, picking up a pen and signing himself out. Sam takes the pen next and does the same before passing it to Colin.

from behind the large group of players all waiting to leave, Jamie appears in his regular clothes. wearing a blue hoodie with grey jeans, you admire how simple his outfit is.

"Hughes, sign me out there would ya?" Jamie calls, heading straight for the door. he brings the pendant of his gold chain to sit between his teeth as he grins at you, eyes lingering on your white top.

he cocks his head towards the door with a curt nod; "shall we?"

the players all erupt in teasing oohs and cheers at Jamie's shameless flirting, and the excitement makes you laugh. you step down from the desk, pushing your bag onto your shoulder. Jamie walks through the door ahead of you, holding it open for you to walk through. before you go, you turn back to the group of players and blow them a kiss, making them shout even louder, jumping up and down and slapping each other's shoulders. you cackle at the dramatics, following Jamie outside.

continuing your laughter as he leads you to his car you ask him: "are they always like this?"

"sadly," he pulls open the passenger side door for you, "yes."

you drop into the seat, the plush and expensive leather comfortable beneath you. as Jamie gets into the car, you look around. there's a football shaped air freshener hanging from the mirror, and there's a small rubber duck wearing a bow tie stuck to his dashboard. his gearshift has a bracelet wrapped around the base of it, colourful wooden beads with a small heart adding a pop of colour to the black leather interior.

"didn't think I could be so intrigued by car decor," you say, and Jamie chuckles shyly as he looks around at his car.

"yeah, it's just things me mum's given me... for good luck, ya'know." the look he gives you is sincere, and you smile at the sentiment of it all.

"that's really sweet, Jamie."

he dips his head down and smiles, and you're sure you spot a blush cover his face. turning the keys in the cognition, his BMW roars to life, and you both buckle your seatbelts. you tap the address into the car's gps, grateful Keeley texted it to you without you even having to ask. as he drives out of the car park's gates, Jamie asks: "if you need a lift to this shop, how did you get to work?"

"I usually walk to work, but Isaac gave me a spontaneous lift yesterday and then picked me up again this morning," you explain, looking at the side of his face as his eyes stay fixed on the road. you watch his face morph into a confused pout.

"you walk to work?"

"yeah?"

"why?"

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.

"what?!" Jamie yells back, matching your tone.

you groan, dropping your head into your hands before raking your fingers through your hair, "nothing, sorry, that's just the third time someone's asked me that."

"it's a bit weird, to be fair," Jamie shrugs.

"what? no it isn't! I swear you're all such snobs," you joke, "it's a good way to get your steps in,"

Jamie snorts, and your head snaps to the side to look at him again.

"you're such a loser," he says, shaking his head.

"as if! my phone tracks them and then I get little messages every time I do 1000 steps," you explain proudly. Jamie says nothing else, just smiles before glancing at the screen showing the directions.

the two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you watch other cars go by. sitting in Jamie's car, you can almost feel how expensive it was just by the way it glides so smoothly across the road. you try to spot similar cars at stop lights and crossroads, but somehow Jamie seems to be the only one with this fancy of a car.

"y/n?" his soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

"mhm?" you hum, looking to him.

he doesn't as much as glimpse at you, keeping his eyes forward; "how come Isaac gave you a lift?" his voice is quiet and shy when he asks. with an amused smile, you stare at him, wondering if you've imagined his reserved tone.

"Jamie?" you start, "are you... jealous?"

"pfft, what? no, why would I be?" he sputters.

"are you serious?" you ask with a giggle, and his silence speaks volumes. "Jamie..." you sigh, "the only reason Isaac gave me a lift yesterday was because he saw me walking and offered me one. this morning, he passed me again, so he stopped. it's polite to accept and, to be completely honest, I just wanted to sit in a sports car." you shrug, reassuring him.

he exhales and nods, trying to disguise his worry as a joke when he forces a chuckle; "oh, right, yeah,"

you lean closer to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. finally, he glances down at you, smiling softly. "don't worry, Jamie. from now on, I'll only take lifts from you in your sports car."

he rolls his eyes but can't help but huff a small laugh, and you smile up at him, biting your lip. "can I turn on some music?" you ask sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes at him dramatically.

"go on then."

you squeal in excitement as you tap the screen on his dashboard, admiring the high-tech of it all. connecting your phone to his car, you press play on one of your playlists. soft music falls from the speakers, and you don't think you've ever heard your favourite songs in such good quality before. pressing a hand to the speaker on your door, you close your eyes, feeling the vibrations of the music. you fall back against the head rest, completely relaxing into Jamie's presence. he doesn't speak, letting you feel the sound in peace.

humming along to the song playing, you smile to yourself. you feel like you're floating as the car drives smoothly over the roads to the boutique. Jamie's a surprisingly gentle driver, never hitting his brake too hard and not swerving around bends. dropping your hand from the speaker, you start picking up on the sound of Jamie's movements. his breathing is steady, and you can hear him absentmindedly sigh every so often. you hear his hands run over the steering wheel when he takes a turn, and the sound soothes you. driving with Jamie makes him feel so human. usually only seeing him in the context of football, you feel like you know athlete Jamie more than person Jamie, despite your date last weekend. the date was amazing, and you learnt so much about him, but sitting in silence with him is a big difference to your usual constant banter.

after the car drives over a bump, you feel the car slow to a halt and the music stop, presuming you've arrived.

"y/n?" Jamie whispers gently, and you've never heard his voice so quiet. the other times he's whispered to you it was definitely not this sweet and soft, and the sound warms your heart.

when you turn your head towards him and open your eyes, he's unexpectedly close to you. with his elbow on the armrest between you, Jamie holds himself a few inches away from you. his gaze softens when you look at him, your eyes wide and amused.

"we're here," he whispers in the same gentle tone, nodding his head towards the windshield. your eyes don't leave each other's as you breathe in deeply. the smell of his cologne fills your sense again, now mixed with fresh conditioner and a slight hint of lavender. you yearn to be closer to him, and you have to fight the urge to wrap an arm around his neck and pull him into you.

instead, you let your eyes drop to his lips before quickly looking away, staring out the window at the shop in front of you. you feel Jamie's eyes on you for a few more seconds before he peels them off of your face, looking down at his hands awkwardly. facing him again, you smile nervously before leaning over the center console and pressing a quick kiss to his soft cheek. his head snaps up at the feeling and when he turns to you, he's blushing a deep pink.

"let's go then," you say, sighing and picking up your bag from between your legs, placing it on your lap. Jamie jumps out of the car, rushing over to the passenger side to open your door for you. one hand holding the door out of your way, his other hand reaches out for you to take. you place your hand in his, and he helps you stand up from the car – not that you need it, but you'll never say to no to some princess treatment.

"thank you, Jamie." you smiled at him.

"you're welcome, y/n." he says as he closes the car door behind you.

you approach the small shop, stopping by its window to admire some of the dresses on display; "oh my goodness," you breathe, "these are gorgeous!" your excitement doubles as you look back at Jamie.

his eyes are fixed on you as he breathes: "yeah... gorgeous,"

your heart rate speeds up suddenly, noticing the way his pupils are wide again, just like in the staff room earlier. your mouth opens, desperately trying to breathe in more air, but you get lost in his gaze. he definitely isn't talking about the dresses.

you swallow and try to snap out of it; "okay, Jamie, I'll see you tomorrow."

"what?" he says quickly, expression faltering and you can almost see his heart break in his face. you furrow your brows and repeat after him; "what?"

he stands up straight, suddenly acting uncharacteristically awkward as he fidgets with his car keys. attempting nonchalance, he shakes his head and looks away from you.

"I mean, I just thought I'd go in with you, ya'know... you might need a second opinion or something," he says quickly, scratching the back of his neck while he looks anywhere but at you.

you chuckle at his silly sheepishness, saying nothing before reaching out for his hand, taking it in yours. a blush appears on your face, and you turn and pull him into the boutique with you.

"good evening!" a squeaky voice chirps, and you can't see the person it came from. your hand still clutches Jamie's, and he holds yours tighter as you both look around. you're overwhelmed by the amount of gowns strung along racks against each wall, and your mouth hangs open as you run your free hand along the fabrics.

"phew! sorry about that, I'm here!" the voice speaks again, and when you turn around, a small blonde woman appears from behind an equally small counter.

"hiya," you speak politely, "uhm, my name is y/n. I think my friend Keeley made an appointment for me."

"ah! Keeley Jones! she's one amazing firecracker, isn't she?" the woman says with a smile, "now, where are my glasses?" she thinks to herself. her curly blonde hair is half pinned up, and her bright red glasses sit on top of her head. you're not sure whether to say something or not, watching her pick up and move stacks of paper on the counter as she searches. Jamie squeezes your hand, and you turn around to look at him. he lifts his pointer finger to his mouth and shakes his head, smiling at you. you smile up at him, taking note of what he means, but decide to do the right thing.

"sorry, I think they're on your head?" you say as politely as possible.

"oh! thank you, darling." she smiles at you before reaching out a hand and introducing herself; "I'm Sarah, it's so lovely to meet you, y/n,"

you drop Jamie's hand to shake Sarah's, which makes her notice his presence.

"and you are?" she asks, holding a hand out for him too.

"I'm Jamie," he smiles, shaking her hand with his right and covering the back of her hand with his left.

"such a sweet thing," Sarah smiles, "you're a lucky girl." she says, looking at you.

Jamie turns to you, letting go of her hand, raising his eyebrows at you with a teasing grin. you roll your eyes at him, ignoring Sarah's comment.

"right–", she says, pushing her glasses back into her hair and moving across the boutique towards a rack of dresses, "what are you looking for today?"

"well, I'm going to this big fancy gala on Friday and I need–"

"something blue." Jamie interrupts, hands politely held behind his back as he smiles at Sarah, avoiding your confused face.

"perfect! let me take some measurements and I'll get you set up. follow me, love. Jamie, you can wait here, take a seat." Sarah's excited, and completely oblivious to your surprise at Jamie's words, as she leads you through a curtain at the back of the shop. you glance back at Jamie over your shoulder, and he winks at you as he sits down on a velvet purple sofa.

the room you walk in is small, but tidy and chic. there's a large mirror covering one of the walls, and the carpet is white and shaggy. it seems to be one big dressing room, and it looks completely different to where Jamie is waiting for you. there's an iced window opposite you, allowing for natural light to flood the cream walls.

"he said something blue, is that right?" Sarah asks, handing you some kind of unitard which matches your skin tone.

"uhm, I guess, yeah," you say, agreeing to Jamie's suggestion. you're not sure why he said it, but it gives you more inspiration than you had when you arrived to the boutique.

"okay, darling. go slip on this little bodysuit behind the curtain over there and I'll be back to measure you whenever you're ready." Sarah smiles politely, guiding you towards a small but tall booth in the corner of the room.

once you've changed, wearing nothing but the skin tight playsuit, you call for Sarah. the carpet is soft under your bare feet as you admire yourself in the mirror. you run your fingers through your hair, adding some volume into it as you smile at your reflection. soon after, Sarah pushes a rack of dresses into the room.

"you haven't even measured me yet?" you laugh at the amount of fabric hiding her small frame.

"don't worry, angel, I've got a good eye for this stuff," she says with a strained voice, struggling to push the wheels over the carpet. you rush over to help her, pulling the opposite side further into the room. there's a variety of different shades of blue and fabrics on the rack; there's silk, satin, and chiffon, and you admire the way some of the rhinestones sparkle under the light.

"these are beautiful, woah..." you say, looking through the dresses.

"we have plenty of time to play dress-up later! let's get you measured," Sarah says, slipping on her glasses and taking the measuring tape from around her neck.

as you move to stand on a small platform in front of the mirror, music starts playing from the shop's speakers. you instantly recognise it as one of the songs you played in the car ride with Jamie. you blush, chuckling to yourself.

"did Jamie turn this music on?" you ask, looking at Sarah in the mirror.

"he did," she says, quickly scribbling down the length of your leg into her notebook, "he asked if he could connect his phone. he's a very nice man, very charming,"

you huff, a smile creeping up your face, "hmpf, isn't he?"

"how long have you two been together?" she asks you absentmindedly. the question makes you shake your head and sputter out your words; "oh, no, no, we're not together,"

"really?" she asks, "I thought I saw you two holding hands when you walked in,"

"it's complicated," you explain vaguely.

"oh sweetheart, there's nothing complicated about the way he looks at you," Sarah says quietly, and her statement stuns you, "he helped me choose these dresses for you by the way, I already know his favourite one."

not sure how to process her words, you turn your head to the rack of dresses, trying to guess which one he likes the most. your chest grows warm at the thought of Jamie's waiting for you in the next room, listening to a song you like, picking out dresses for you. with a blush on your face, you start to realise what Isaac meant; Jamie can be exceptionally kind.

"all done, my love! now, pick whichever ones you want to try on and if they need any tailoring, I can get that done for you before Friday." Sarah brushes strands of hair out of her face, standing up straight and pointing to the rack of gowns.

you look at her with kind eyes and smile; "thank you, Sarah,"

"now, I'll be just out there taking care of your friend, but just gimme a shout if you need help with a zip or anything." she winks at you before heading through the curtain into the boutique.

you take a deep breath, trying to focus on the sound of the music playing through the room. either Jamie has exceptionally good taste, or he's found your spotify account and has turned on the same playlist you played in his car.

trying on a navy dress, you spin around in the mirror. nice bodice, but ugly tule sleeves. you take a turquoise gown from the rack, deciding against it before even trying it on simply due to its big frilly skirt. next, you pull out a dress the brightest shade of blue, and try it on for fun, just to see Jamie's reaction. you pull aside the curtain into the shop before stepping through.

Jamie's hands fly to his mouth, biting back a laugh. you do the same, rolling your lips into your mouth to avoid a cackle from escaping. the dress is made of polyester, and is covered in sheer tule with big plastic diamonds.

"oh... babe," Sarah says awkwardly, grimacing.

"Jamie?" you say, still holding back a laugh.

"you look... absolutely stunnin'" he forces, face morphing into an almost painful expression.

a few beats of silence pass, before the three of you burst into loud and boisterous laughter. Jamie clutches his stomach in laughter, while Sarah covers her mouth the hide her amusement. you stop your laughing and pretend to look offended; "what? you don't like it?" you smile at Jamie. he digs his phone out of his pocket before holding it up proudly.

"go on, do a twirl," he says, filming you as you do what he asks. you laugh at the antics, holding up the skirt and curtsying. you blow a kiss to his camera and close your eyes, smiling sweetly.

"fuckin' beautiful," Jamie mutters, and he sounds more sincere than the jokey tone he had used before. you pretend you didn't hear it, taking a dramatic bow before disappearing into the changing room again.

laughing to yourself, you tug off the dress, appreciating the little ribbons Sarah has tied onto each dress' zip, allowing you to easily reach back and pull it down yourself. you take your time trying on three more dresses, and as much as you look like a princess, you don't feel like one just yet.

the final dress on the rack is a sequined baby blue one, and you're unsure of its boldness before you even put it on. you take it off the hanger, undoing the zip and stepping into it. pulling the skinny pink spaghetti straps over your shoulders, you feel the soft inner lining of the dress tickle your legs. all the dresses you had tried on were floor length, but this one falls three quarters down your legs, ending a few inches above your ankles.

reaching back, your hand searches for the ribbon in order to zip up the dress, but you can't seem to find it. turning around in the mirror, you stretch your neck to see it's missing.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself, desperately trying to fold your arm back and zip it up, but to no avail.

"Sarah?" you call, but she doesn't answer.

"eh, she's gone upstairs to her workshop for a minute. is everythin' alright?" Jamie replies. you hang your head, taking in a deep breath.

"could you come help me zip up my dress please?" you say, eyes to the ceiling as you dread Jamie's entrance. a knot grows in your stomach; you wanted Jamie to see the dress on Friday, after getting all dolled up, not when you're barefoot in a dressing room with your hair messy.

"yeah, sure, of course," he mutters, his voice coming closer through the curtain. pushing it open, he covers his eyes with his hand; "you decent?"

"yes, Jamie, just come in." you sigh, hand clutching the back of the dress as you stand on your tippy toes, mimicking the effect your heels will have on the outfit.

"alright, alright, just–" Jamie stops mid sentence. you look over at him, and his face bares a look of pure admiration. his pouty lips are parted, eyes wide and glossy under the light. eyebrows raised, his arms hang limp by his sides, and his chest rises and falls noticeably with his shallow breaths.

you don't speak, your face holding an embarrassed expression as you turn your back towards Jamie; "please," you squeak quietly.

he inhales a shaky breath before saying: "yeah, sorry, yeah,"

avoiding looking at him, you wait impatiently for the feeling of his body behind you. you hear his uneven breaths first as he stands behind you. fully aware he's blushing, you can't help but wish you had turned to the mirror, then you could at least see his expression as his hands carefully clutch the bottom of the zip, right above your ass. seeing the red tint on his face would make you feel a lot better about your half-assed appearance. his fingers brush the arch of your back as he pulls the zip up the length of your back, as his other hand rests on your waist. when he nears the top, his hand leaves your waist to brush your hair over your shoulder and out of the way. as the dress tightens around you, one of the straps slip from your shoulder.

as soon as the dress is secured, you turn towards the mirror again, lifting yourself onto your toes. the shiny fabric hugs your frame tightly, accentuating the curve of your hips and pushing up your chest ever so slightly. you hear Jamie gulp, and your eyes move to look at him in the reflection of the mirror. his eyes don't meet yours, however, as they're glued to your back and shoulders. he carries his gaze across your shoulder blades, slowly lifting a hand to your arm, gently sliding the thin strap up to your shoulder again. his breathing still sounds heavy in your ear, and his fingers linger on the exposed nape of your neck.

Jamie finally lets his eyes glance up to meet yours, and your breath hitches in your throat. his eyes are dark, not with lust or intoxication the way you've seen before, but with something else – something indecipherable. he holds your eye contact while his fingers continue their path over your skin. he brings them down to your shoulder before dragging them back up to your neck. trailing them down your spine, he follows the shape of your shoulder blades, drawing absentminded shapes on them. goosebumps appear on your skin, and you bring your hands up your torso nervously. the slight scratch of the sequins on your palms grounds you, and your eyes trail over your body. Jamie settles both hands on your waist again, and you drag your hands up over your stomach, to your ribcage, before sliding over your chest. you bring them back down, fingers smoothing the sparkles on your thighs.

when your eyes flick up to look at Jamie, you're surprised to see him staring at your eyes already. his cheeks are flushed, but he's managed to close his mouth for the first time since he opened the dressing room curtain. his hands drop from your waist, and he reaches up to bring your hair back off your shoulder before taking a step away from you. Jamie's eyes are sincere as he finally speaks: "y/n..."

"mhm?" you hum, turning to the side to admire the back of the dress in the tall mirror.

"I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you in my entire life." he says firmly, face unwavering as he looks you dead in the eye in the mirror.

you soften at his words, sighing as you tilt your head. he flashes you a small smile as you stare at his reflection. looking at you sheepishly, it's almost like he doesn't know the words he just spoke went straight to your heart – as if the look in his eyes didn't scream love.

turning around quickly, your breath is shallow as you hold his eye contact. his eyes drop to your lips and yours do the same, and soon enough you're stepping closer to him. peering up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes stay wide, and he looks at you expectantly. his eyes flick down to glance at your lips once more, but this time, your eyes stay fixed on his. the longer you stare at him, the more you feel your eyes gloss over. the sweet smile on his face doesn't fall, and you shake your head as you finally grin back.

standing up on your tippy toes, you throw your arms around his neck and hold him tightly. his strong arms wrap around your waist, placing one of his palms flat on the middle of your back. you sigh as you press your face into his neck, and you hear him exhale deeply as he holds you impossibly closer.

you breathe in his skin, feeling his hair tickle your cheek. Jamie groans into your neck, squeezing you so tight your feet lift an inch off the ground. you giggle into his neck, lifting your head up and back to look at him. he moves his head off your shoulder too, keeping your feet off the ground.

"is this your favourite dress then?" you tease him with a smile.

"definitely." he nods his head eagerly, eyes focused on your mouth. you bite your lip nervously, the way you always do when you notice him staring at them.

"what?" you ask sweetly, moving your head to the side in an attempt to get him to look you in the eye again.

"will you be my date to the gala?" he says quickly, eyes back on yours. his face breaks out in a large grin as you raise your eyebrows at him.

you look up, as if deep in thought, before furrowing your brows and pouting; "uuuhm... no." you state. Jamie's happy face immediately drops into a pouty, confused expression.

before he can contest your answer, you quickly peck his frowning lips, taking him aback all over again. kicking your feet, you laugh out loud; "okay, put me down now. I need to go pay for this dress."

—

looking at your reflection in Keeley's vanity mirror, you absolutely adore who's staring back at you. your hair is curled to perfection, pinned up in the classier version of a messy bun. loose strands frame your face and make the hairstyle look naturally effortless, despite it having taken 40 minutes to perfect. your eyelids sparkle with a slight dusty pink colour. skin looking filter smooth, you admire the way the light bounces off your cheekbones after Keeley's makeup artist fanned some highlighter on them.

she's behind you on the pink sofa, painting her toe nails, whilst Rebecca is next to her on her phone. you had agreed to all get ready together but Rebecca, picky as ever, arrived completely dressed up, having already had her stylist get her ready.

leaning close to the mirror, you screw open your shiny pink lip gloss before lathering it on your lips. you pop them together before puckering them in the mirror, making a kissy noise. Keeley laughs at the sound, and when you turn around, a mischievous grin grows on her face; "look at you with your lip gloss! Jamie and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!"

the three of you share a big laugh as you stand up from the chair, the pink robe Keeley lent you keeping you cosy as you get ready.

"okay, time for my dress!" you sing, and Keeley squeals.

"I can't wait to see it," Rebecca says sweetly. you tilt your head, looking at her with kind eyes;

"thanks again, Rebecca, I don't think I can ever repay you for this favour,"

"shut up and get dressed!" Rebecca shouts, waving a hand to dismiss you.

"aah! okay!" you shout back, running into Keeley's bedroom, dress bag folded over your arm.

putting it on is easier this time, having tied your own ribbon onto the zip. you look at your reflection in the bedroom mirror, and you can't believe this is you. the dress fits you like a glove, and is still the most comfortable thing you've ever worn. the fabric is flowy around your legs, and tightens to hug your body around your hips. your pinned up hair shows off your clavicle, and the framing front pieces make your face look chiseled as ever. sitting on the bed, you slip your feet into your light pink heels, the platform pumps adding an extra two inches to your height. as you buckle them up, you can finally say you truly do feel like a princess.

"ready?" you call, cracking open the door out of the bedroom.

"yes!" Keeley and Rebecca both say at the same time, excitement evident in their voices.

you step out of the room, letting out a deep breath. there's no reason to be, but you're nervous. you hold your head up, imagining Jamie sitting in that room, and you're suddenly filled with a newfound confidence. taking long strides, you walk into the next room. stepping in front of Keeley and Rebecca, you smile wide. both of them are dead silent, staring at you with blank expressions. you do a twirl, hoping to pull a reaction from them, but when you face them again, you still get nothing. smile slowly fading, your brows furrow.

"is there something wrong?" you say, holding out your hands in confusion.

Keeley and Rebecca shake their heads in sync, and the latter finally speaks up; "not at all, y/n, wow,"

"Jamie-" Keeley starts, life re-entering her eyes, "is... going to..." she jumps up in the air as she screams "DIE!"

she runs over to you and hugs you as you cackle at their theatrics; "you look fucking amazing!" Keeley squeals.

you look at Rebecca as you squeeze Keeley's arm, and the smile she gives you feels warm and sincere. she doesn't need to tell you what she thinks, you can read it in her face. you mouth the words 'thank you' to her one last time, and she blows you a kiss.

"let's get going!" letting go of you, Keeley runs to the mirror to quickly check her makeup. you move towards the sofa, picking up your clutch bag and slipping your phone and lip gloss into it. Rebecca stands up, brushing down her outfit. her red dress highlights her long legs, and her pinned up hair makes her look even taller than she is. turning your back to her, she kindly helps you take the ribbon off your zip. Keeley's hair cascades over her shoulder in waves, and her black corset fits perfectly over a big pink silk skirt.

"we look so good," you turn to them, smiling wide before heading for the front door.

you all slip into the back of the slick black limousine Rebecca organised for the three of you, and you waste no time in popping open the complimentary champagne.

each of you have a flute in hand as you sing along to the music playing. Keeley holds up her phone to take selfies and pictures of all of you, together as well as posing on your own. laughing and cheering, you hype each other up as you show the camera your best faces. three champagne flutes down and your cheeks feel hot, the alcohol rushing through your veins.

"oh by the way, y/n, you'll be sitting at a table with me and Keeley tonight." Rebecca smiles as she takes a sip of her drink. your eyebrows arch in surprise, and you mirror her as you bring the glass flute to your lips.

"yeah, we didn't want you sitting with random staff," Keeley adds.

"I'm surprised you didn't put me at a table with Jamie," you say.

Rebecca wags her pointer finger at you; "hm, no, see that wouldn't really be playing the game, would it?"

"if you're sitting at the same table, there's no longing, no yearning, no sexual tension!" Keeley explains, grunting the last words as she balls her fists in front of her and shakes them.

"exactly!" Rebecca continues, "our table is in front of his, which means that each time he looks at the stage, his eyes have to pass you, which they obviously won't and he'll probably sit there all night staring at you until you notice him" she states matter of factly.

"you guys..." you drawl, "this is so lovely, but at this point I'll just want jump his bones the minute I see him. I've been holding off for so long!"

"I promise it's worth it... believe me, it's all about the wait." Keeley says, placing a firm hand on your knee and squeezing it in reassurance. "Rebecca knows all about it," she continues, "she's put Sam behind us as well, at the same table as Jamie."

gasping at her, you let out a small scream; "Rebecca! you're going to try pick things up with him again?!" she rolls her eyes at you and Keeley, but still smirks slyly. the three of you holler and laugh, drowning out the music with your noise. your stomach twists in nerves and excitement, not at all knowing what to expect from tonight. whatever happens, you have to try to resist the one thing you've been thinking about for weeks; let's see how hard he's going to make that.

—

the limousine finally comes to a halt at the Richmond Theatre, and the flashing cameras already catch your eye. the driver steps out, walking over and opening the car door for you, Keeley, and Rebecca. one by one, you exit the stretch, giving each other hands to help the other up.

the red carpet is rolled out from the end of the stoop, all the way up over the stairs into the venue. there's a backdrop set up for photographs displaying an array of sponsors including bantr and KBPR. Sam and Isaac pose in front of the cameras, standing a few feet from one another.

"Jerry! Dave! it's so good to see you guys again! make sure to get my good side this year," Sam points at the group of photographers, choosing for a simple wide smile. Isaac on the other hand, has his hands together in a prayer pose, face emotionless. "don't forget the shoes," Isaac says to the cameras, "make sure you get the shoes, bruv." he reiterates bluntly, pointing a finger down at the ground.

shaking your head, you laugh at their antics. looking at the people around you, you can't help but think about Jamie; is he inside already? what is he wearing? will he still like your dress? oh my God what if he doesn't show up just because you said no to being his date-

"y/n, it's your turn babe," Keeley whispers in your ear, and she places a hand on your back to guide you onto the red carpet. eyes widening in panic, you turn to grab her hand; "Keeley, I have no idea what to do, please come with me,"

she giggles, running in front of the photographers, still holding your hand. she flicks her hair aside, placing a hand on her hip and smiling wide. through her teeth she tells you: "just copy me, you're gorgeous."

as the two of you stand and pose together, Rebecca steps onto the carpet at its far end, smiling on her own. you reach over, taking her hand and pulling her between you and Keeley, and the three of you laugh and pose together in front of the cameras. slowly but surely, you get more comfortable, stepping aside to get a few photos on your own. Dani, Colin, and a number of other Richmond players stand next to the photographers, whistling and whooping in encouragement. your laugh is big and genuine as the cameras continue to flash, and the adrenaline running through your veins reignites the excitement you've had all week.

"thank you!" you say to the photographers as an event organiser beckons you off the carpet. she leads you, Rebecca, and Keeley towards the steps into the theatre. the three of you laugh at the rush caused by the attention of the cameras, and your words are filled with disbelief; "I've never done anything like that before! that was so much fucking fun!"

"I know right?!" Keeley cackles.

"ladies, I have to go in and sort some things so I'm going to go ahead. I'll see you at the table," Rebecca speaks quickly, blowing a kiss before rushing off.

"she's so sexy when she's all in charge and shit," Keeley says, watching as Rebecca struts up the rest of the stairs and into the venue. she turns to face you, looking you up and down. with an inquisitive expression, she reaches her hands up and twists your necklace around, hiding the clasp behind your neck.

"perfect," she says, "how do I look?"

"absolutely amazing," you reply to her, pulling some fluff from her lace corset.

"let's fucking do this," Keeley says with a determined expression, and the two of you hold hands again as you walk up the stairs. at the door, a server holds a silver platter with champagne flutes filled to the brim. Keeley immediately drops your hand, taking one glass in each hand. you struggle holding back a laugh as you take one for yourself, thanking the server quietly.

approaching the double doors into the theatre, you reach out your free hand to pull the handle, holding it open for Keeley. "thanks, babe," she says, taking a quick sip of her drink. the second she enters, she squeals "Barbara!" and rushes over to her friend nearby.

left to fend for yourself, you blink and widen your eyes at the sheer size of the ballroom. at the far end is a large stage, and the walls are covered in red velvet. you look up at the ginormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the chatter from the large amount of guests bounces against all sides of the room. you can't discern any of the voices despite recognising almost every face. everyone is dressed up to the Gods, mingling and chatting in small groups. some people are sitting at their tables, whilst some are simply standing around.

you spot Ted and Beard talking to Trent Crimm to your left, and as you're about to move towards them to say hello, a recognisable voice finally breaks through your thoughts; "holy fuck."

snapping your head towards the sound of the voice, your eyes immediately notice Jamie standing next to the bar to your right. he stands up straight when your eyes meet, sliding his elbow from the counter and placing down his beer bottle.

your jaw slacks as you move your eyes down his body, noticing his suit. it's a smooth navy, tailored to fit him perfectly. his signet ring shines beneath the bright lights, and his tattoos peek out from under his sleeve. the tie he's wearing has a light blue pattern you can't quite make out from your distance, but when your eyes drift to his suit jacket, your mouth snaps closed.

Jamie's eyes are wider than you've ever seen them, and he doesn't seem to blink at all as you walk over to him. you stand close to him, nostrils flaring as you clench your jaw; "Jamie," you say flatly, trying to keep your breathing steady, "what the fuck is that?" you tuck your clutch under your arm, moving your hand up to his chest and poking a finger against the pocket of his jacket.

his mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words come out. avoiding your eyes, he frowns his lips and shrugs; "what's... what?"

you tsk at him, moving your head to the side in an attempt to catch his gaze again. your finger digs into his chest harder, finally making him look at you as he pulls away in pain.

"ow, what was that for?"

"where did you get that pocket square?" you ask, making your question clear. you glance down at the sequinned blue fabric folded in his pocket, and your ears start ringing as your heart rate increases rapidly.

"Sarah made it for me to match your dress," Jamie admits sheepishly, shoulders slumping as he looks down at his fidgeting hands.

"come with me." you say, turning around and walking across the ballroom. Jamie follows you like a lost puppy as you walk past the other guests. "hey guys, I'll see you in a bit!" you chirp as you pass the coaches and their resident writer. they wave at you and Jamie with confused faces, but you ignore them. pushing through another set of double doors, you walk into a hallway.

looking side to side, you spot what you're looking for down the hallway and on the left. you don't look behind you, sure Jamie is right there, as you strut past another bar and some couched booths. stopping to chug your champagne, you discard the glass one of the tables. when you finally reach the door labelled 'ladies, you push open the door, hoping nobody's inside.

Jamie's suddenly stops as you head into the bathroom, brows furrowed, and you roll your eyes before pulling him in with you. when you walk in, you thank God there's no one in there to see you drag in the man trailing behind you. pushing open the first stall you see, you yank Jamie's arm to pull him inside.

you drop his hand, pressing your hands against his chest and pushing his back into the door, making it shut. you waste no time in slotting your feet between his and leaning forward, connecting your lips together. his hands find your waist as he realises what's happening. your clutch drops to the floor and you grab his biceps, keeping yourself steady.

hunger sets into you as you kiss him deeply, already panting as you messily move your lips against each other. your tongue slips into his mouth with ease as your hand reaches for his hair, grabbing a handful and tugging it. he groans into your mouth as his hands move up your back, holding you impossibly closer. you struggle to suppress the moan in the back of your throat as his tongue dips into your mouth, and your knees buckle at the feeling. Jamie uses this as his chance to spin you around, pressing your back against the cold door and quickly locking it without even having to look. with one hand placed firmly on the arch of your back, the other comes up to your face, tilting your jaw up as he kisses you even harder. your heads move side to side quickly, not once pulling away for breath as you move against each other vigorously. your fingers are still tangled in his hair whilst your other hand grips his arm tight, feeling the way the muscle flexes as he holds your body against his.

your mind goes completely blank, and your senses heighten as Jamie feels warm - no - hot. your heart hammers against your chest as you feel yourself start to sweat, your shared body heat starting to become overwhelming as your ears ring. all you can see, feel, and smell is Jamie; his cologne, his cold rings, his smooth skin on yours. both of your lips are sticky with lipgloss, and the noises your mouths make together make you blush. Jamie slides his hand from your face to your neck, running his thumb down your throat as he continues to tangle your tongues together. the touch pulls a low whine from your throat, and you completely lose the strength to hold yourself up.

your hand leaves his hair and quickly finds his tie, wrapping it around your fist and tugging it. you use the leverage to pull your back from the door before pressing the same hand into his chest.

Jamie reluctantly pulls his lips off of yours as you push against him. you're both breathless, panting with open mouths as you stare at each other. his pupils are dark and blown wide, breathing jagged, and his lips are even more plump than usual. yours feel equally as swollen, cheeks hot and hair messy.

without a word, you bend down, picking up your long discarded purse from the floor. turning your back to Jamie, you unlock the stall door and walk towards the sinks. dropping your purse on top of the marble, you run cold water over your hands in an attempt to cool yourself down before digging through your clutch. pulling out a bobby pin, you fix a rogue strand of hair which has fallen out of your updo. as you do so, Jamie appears from the stall, hair no longer messy. he catches your eyes in the mirror and smirks at you. as he passes you by, he brings his palm up to slap your ass, making your disheveled expression form into a smile.

you watch his back as he leaves the bathroom, and the fact he doesn't turn to glance at you makes you part your lips and huff, impressed by his sudden composure. turning back to the mirror, you stare at yourself. your cheeks are flushed, lips red and swollen, and your legs shake beneath you. holding the sink for support, you lean forward, fanning your face with your hand in an attempt to cool your skin. the door squeaks open, and you quickly stand up straight and pretend to fix the hair around your face.

a brunette woman you don't recognise walks in, and you send her a polite smile through the mirror's reflection. "having a good night are we?" she grins knowingly, scrunching up her nose and raising her eyebrows. you let out a surprised cackle, quickly shaking your head and shrugging; "just fixing my makeup, you know how it goes."

"right..." she drawls, winking at you before she disappears into a stall. you sigh out a breath, glad it wasn't Keeley or Rebecca walking in on you, even though they would probably have a few tips to make yourself look less sloppy after you and Jamie's heated make out.

sure, you weren't exactly playing the game of tension they were talking about, but your kiss with Jamie was worth every second. you wouldn't have lasted flirting with him all evening without knowing what he tasted like. the feeling of his lips on yours, hands pressed against your back while you clawed at his hair, is going to replay in your mind all evening, and you hope you won't be going home alone.

pulling your lipgloss from your bag, you quickly dab some more on your still-puffy lips. hoping all traces of Jamie are gone, you clip your clutch closed and head for the door. as you push through into the hallway, the loud chatter of the event reverberates through the walls, and adrenaline sets in again. you decide against returning to the ballroom just yet, walking down the hallway and to the small bar at the end of it.

"y/n!" Sam beams as you meet him at the bar. you get the attention of the bartender.

"I'll try the peachy keen, please," turning to face Sam you say: "how are you, Samuel?"

"I'm doing good, what about you?" he laughs at your use of his full name.

"hungry! I'm so excited for the meal and the auction and everything," you say, accepting your cocktail from the bartender with a "thank you so much."

"ah, really? are you going to bid on Jamie?" Sam asks with a grin.

"ha!" you cackle, "Jamie wishes I'd bid on him! but... I don't really think I can afford the auction anyways. Keeley said it goes into the tens of thousands!"

"I think Jamie would do it for free if it was you bidding on him, he's obsessed with you." Sam takes a sip of his drink, and you arch your eyebrows; "really?" you ask.

"oh yes, for sure... but I don't think I need to tell you that," he says with a smirk on his face.

"what do you mean?" you shrug nervously, already picturing Jamie's dark eyes when you pulled away from him in the bathroom stall. you bring your sweet drink to your lips in attempt to distract yourself.

"well, I saw him stumble out of the women's restrooms a few minutes ago. he's not very good at hiding his certain excitement, if you know what I mean,"

Sam's words take you aback, and you snort into your drink and cough as you place the glass down. you wipe the splatters from your face and look up at him with a shocked look.

he continues, the smirk on his face growing even more devilish; "and then I see you walking out of the same bathroom a few minutes later... which makes me think that maybe... you were in there together?"

you inhale deeply, raising you eyebrows and smiling at him. picking up your glass from the bar, you turn to walk away. "I will speak to you later, Sam. enjoy your meal." you say politely, and he laughs at you as you turn and head through the doors and back into the large ballroom.

contrary to when you arrived, the carpeted room is now bustling with people. you stand still in front of the door, stunned by the crowds. you can hear the familiar laughter and shouts of the Richmond players, but you can't see them. you look over to the stage to see Rebecca standing beside it, nervously discussing something with Higgins. glancing back towards the bar you had previously found Jamie at, his place is now taken by Roy and Keeley as they stand close together. her hand holds his arms as he looks down at her lovingly, a content smile resting on his face. you smile at their interaction, the gentle side of both of them is a rare sight at work, and it's as if they're all alone in this room full of people.

"excuse me ladies and gentlemen," Rebecca's voice sounds through speakers around the room. chatter dies down as everyone turns their attention to the stage, where Rebecca is standing behind a microphone.

"thank you so very much for coming," she pauses as the chatter dies down quickly, "dinner is going to be served soon, so if everybody could please find their seats, that would be delightful." everyone applauds Rebecca as she smiles and walks off the stage. you beeline towards her, awkwardly smiling at people as you push past them. standing next to the stage, Rebecca is flattening non-existent creases in her dress as she now talks to Ted.

"it's gonna be amazing, boss, don't you worry!" you hear Ted chirp as you approach the two. sensing your presence, Rebecca turns her head and smiles at you.

"oh, y/n, thank goodness you're here." she breathes.

your face contorts into a puzzled look as you glance at Ted whose face is still in his classic closed mouth smile; "we arrived together," you chuckle to yourself, and her face of realisation makes the three of you laugh. "let's go find our seats." you say, and you look back to Ted, "will you be sitting with us, coach?"

the three of you move towards the tables, and Rebecca guides you to table nine, smack down in the middle of the ballroom.

"that's right! I can't wait to tell Roy about my new uniform designs,"

"it's called a kit, coach," Beard suddenly appears next to Ted, Jane beside him.

"well we'll have to make them thermal then... winter is coming!" Ted says proudly, snapping his fingers with a chuckle.

you look up at Beard, completely confused. "Game of Thrones," he says in a flat tone. from beside him, Jane also speaks up in the same way; "Kit Harington."

"ah," you say, the awkward smile on your face fading as you turn away from the encounter, shaking your head as you walk to the other side of the table. pulling out the chair directly across from Ted, you're facing the stage with your back to the rest of the tables. as you move to sit down, however, Rebecca stops you.

"wait, okay, hold on," she circles the table, stopping at each chair and crouching down. your brows furrow as you watch her, clueless as to what she was doing. she brings her hands up in front of her face, holding her fingers in an L-shape as she frames her vision. "perfect..." she stands up straight and pulls out the chair in front of her, "this is your seat."

the antics make you laugh, giving in and moving two seats to the left and sitting down; "thanks?"

"you're so very welcome," her tone is sincere, as if she didn't just dance around the table choosing you a chair. she sits down in the seat to your right, immediately grabbing for one of the complimentary bottles of white wine set in the centre of the table. screwing open the top, she fills your glass first, all the way up to the brim. she does the same for her glass, almost making it overflow, before putting the wine bottle back into its ice bucket.

"Rebecca, oh my God," you widen your eyes at her with a smile, and her mischievous smirk makes you laugh. "I've already paid for it! we might as well drink it." as the two of you giggle, you raise your glasses and clink them together, some wine spilling over the rim as you cheers.

"hey! wait for me!" Keeley runs over, Roy trailing behind her, before lifting her cocktail up to join your toast, "here's to y/n shagging Jamie tonight!"

your hand flies to your mouth in shock and you shush her, glancing around to see if anyone heard her vulgar words. the only other guest who heard her comment was Roy, who smiles at you sympathetically before muttering "fucking gross," under his breath as he sits down. Keeley playfully sticks her tongue out at you before moving to sit beside between Rebecca and Roy. she leans over closer to you and Rebecca as Roy fills their glasses with wine; "have you seen Jamie's pocket square, by the way?"

you don't need to be looking in the mirror to know the intense blush that just set across your cheeks as you avoid looking at her. Rebecca furrows her brows and shakes her head, looking between you and Keeley. you suck in your lips and close your eyes, knowing what Keeley is about to say.

"it's the same as y/n's dress!" she whisper yells, and you reluctantly open one eye to see Rebecca's reaction.

"what the fuck?!" her eyes shoot open wide as her head snaps to look at you. you stay quiet, opening your other eye and bearing your teeth in a wide grimace. "how did he get a piece of your dress?" Rebecca says to you in a hushed tone before her face drops, "oh my God, y/n, don't tell me you've already slept with him."

now it's your turn to widen your eyes in a shocked expression; "Jesus, no!" you say, slightly offended by Rebecca's assumption. she, Keeley, and Roy stare at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

"what?" you ask them, nervously chugging the rest of your peach cocktail. none of them speak as they watch you drink, and you roll your eyes before explaining: "he went dress shopping with me and I guess the tailor made him a pocket square for tonight. I swear I had no idea he was going to do that! he did it behind my back."

Keeley squints at you, clearly not believing a word you say. when you look at Rebecca, she pouts her lips and nods, but you can't decipher whether it's in reassurance or mockery. "I believe you," Roy suddenly says, "he's a possessive little bitch, he would definitely pull this shit."

you chuckle at his words, and he sends you a quick wink with a small smile. as you look past Roy, your smile drops, not giving you the chance to return the wink, and Rebecca says what you're thinking: "speak of the devil,"

"you talkin' bout me?" Jamie says, firmly placing his hands on Roy's shoulders as he stands behind him. a cocky grin plasters his face as he stares down at you, quickly winking at you as your mouth falls slightly open.

"let go of me." Roy states, face stone cold as he stares ahead. Jamie doesn't follow his order, simply squeezing Roy's shoulders and shaking him side to side. "I'll kill you." Roy says again, but Jamie ignores him.

"Rebecca?" he asks sweetly, taking his time to drag his eyes off of you and look at the woman next to you, "why can't I sit at this table?"

"oooh..." Ted says, watching intently as Rebecca folds her arms on the table. Jamie's tight-lipped smile is sweet, but fake, and Rebecca mirrors his expression. she inhales deeply, tilting her head to the side as she looks up at him.

"because I said so, Jamie." she says, and your eyebrows arch as you bite back a smile when he glances at you, his cocky expression now cracking slightly. his grin turns into a pout as he gasps for a response. "but-" he starts, but Rebecca interrupts his rebuttal: "because I pay you to play football for me, Jamie, not to accompany me to dinner."

Roy bursts into a loud laugh, gaining everyone's attention as the table goes completely silent. Jamie slides his hands from his shoulders, startled by the sound of his laughter. Keeley giggles from beside Roy, covering her mouth to hide it. the whole table looks at him, amused smiles creeping up your faces. Jamie, on the other hand, looks defeated, eyes finding yours again. he sends you a sad look, pouting his lips. silently, you lift your shoulders in a shrug, smiling at him. your smile is sincere and warm, despite his opposite expression. still, since your encounter in the bathrooms not too long ago, your heart is finding it hard not to be fond of Jamie as you look at him. you'd like to keep up the tension-filled flirtatious banter, but since feeling the pressure of his mouth on yours, you can't help but long for the next time you'll get to taste him.

"good one, Rebecca," Roy finally speaks, falling back into his blunt normality as he brings his drink to his mouth.

Jamie composes himself, rolling his eyes before glancing at everyone at the table; "whatever," he mutters, looking straight at you again, "see you during the auction, y/n," he winks before turning and walking away, clearly quickly recovering from the embarrassment.

Rebecca and Keeley slowly turn towards you, mouths agape, and the three of you wait a few seconds before squealing in excitement.

"holy shit!" Keeley says, reaching across Rebecca to grab your hand, "he wants you!" she growls, and you all share another screech as you process Jamie's parting words.

"who wants who?!" a voice interjects your noise, matching your excitement with an amused tone and a wide smile. you look to your left as the same brunette from the bathroom sits down in the free seat next to you. your expression drops as you feel the blood drain from your face, contrasting the deep blush Jamie had just given you. she catches your eye and smiles wide; "hey! we're at the same table, what a coincidence!"

"Sassy Smurf?!" Ted hangs his head to the side to try and see her face. she immediately turns to him, opening her arms wide as they match each other's wide smiles. "Marlboro Man!" she shouts, and they embrace in a quick hug. the interaction both warms your heart and confuses you, turning to give Rebecca a questioning look. you're overwhelmed by all of the interactions you've had since sitting down at the table, and at this point you have no idea how the evening is going to pan out.

Rebecca smiles at you, interrupting Ted and the mystery woman's conversation to introduce you; "y/n, this is Flo, my best friend,"

"since childhood," she includes, "and you can just call me Sassy, it makes me feel more interesting," she smiles and winks at you as she holds out a hand for you to shake. you take it, repeating Rebecca by saying "I'm y/n, it's so lovely to meet you."

"y/n is our receptionist at Richmond, and she's really good," Keeley says, "she gets along with literally everyone, especially Jamie Tartt." she smirks at Sassy and raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Sassy turns to look at you wide eyes, an intrigued smile spreading across her face as she looks at you. you can almost see the cogs turning in her mind, and your face falls as you try to shake your head as subtly as possible. panic starts setting in as you realise she's connecting the dots between you in the bathroom and the conversation at the table, and you hope your wide eyes tell her not to mention your post-Jamie run in.

"ooh," she drawls, elongating the vowels as she nods her head. you hold your breath, hoping she understood your silent plea. "yeah, he's not really my type but, go get it babe," she sends you a cheeky grin and raises her brows at you. you feel the back of her hand tap the side of your thigh in reassurance as she turns her back to you; "so Ted, how have you been?" you hear her say, and you sigh in relief before drinking as much wine as you can in one gulp.

everyone quickly moves on, diving into their own conversations. Ted and Sassy seem to know each other quite well, Sassy leaning close to him as he speaks, making him blush. Rebecca must notice your confused expression, interrupting her own chat with Keeley and Roy to lean in to your ear; "they've slept together a few times." your eyes widen as you dramatically scoop your head to the side to look at Rebecca. you exchange knowing smiles, and her eyes soften as she looks at you. furrowing your brows as you notice her expression change, you're about to ask her if everything's okay, but she beats you to it.

"as much as we tease you about it," she starts, "Keeley and I think you and Jamie are perfect for each other. I can see how much you like him and -- not that he's hiding it very well -- but I can tell he is utterly in love with you."

you open your mouth to contest, but Rebecca holds a hand up to stop you; "I promise, y/n. now, during the auction, I want you to bid whatever amount needed to win him. don't worry about the cost, I'll cover it."

"oh- absolutely not!" you gawk at Rebecca, "you can't buy me a dress and a man!"

"of course I can. I'm the boss, remember?" her voice is stern as she pats your thigh.

"please, I'm begging you, just take the dress out of my paycheck." your eyes are pleading as you clasp your hands together. she shakes her head at you and tsks; "none of it. now, let's eat."

as if on cue, dozens of waiters appear out of nowhere, carrying platters of plates. first they bring the chicken, then the steak. you all dig into your dinner, and the food is delicious - not surprising, Rebecca would never settle for less than perfect. you eat, drink, and laugh, especially with Sassy beside you, her numerous offhand comments making you laugh louder than you normally would if you didn't have this much alcohol running through your veins. you notice the way Ted looks at her, even when she's speaking to someone else, and you recognise it as similar to the way Jamie looked at you in the dress boutique earlier this week. his eyes are soft and features relaxed, a small smile resting comfortably on his lips. his pupils are big, and his chest moves up and down slowly as he breathes -- he seems completely at ease, despite the hustle and bustle of the room. it makes you think of seeing Keeley and Roy earlier, looking at each other as if they were the only ones here, not a care in the world about who's around them. you smile to yourself before turning your attention back to the story Sassy is telling, some retelling of a funny memory she shares with Rebecca.

Keeley laughs at her words, and the sound is just infectious, making you laugh more than the story itself. your eyes move to look at Roy, who looks at Keeley with soft eyes identical to Ted's. you huff a small laugh to yourself, it going unnoticed by those around you as they're all engrossed in the conversation. Roy stares at Keeley with such adoration that it tugs at your heartstrings. their chairs are pulled close together, and his arm is draped over the back of her chair as she leans into him ever so slightly. her wine glass sits in her hand as she laughs, and each time she does, Roy smiles to himself. you doubt he's even listening to Sassy's tale, completely distracted by Keeley's joy. he's infatuated with her, and you can tell by the way she continues to crack his hard exterior. you wonder what he's like with her behind closed doors; you bet she has him walking around wearing her signature pink robe.

you look down at your hands, admiring the manicure you got in preparation for the event. the glossy light pink colour matches the details of your outfit, and you're still surprised at how comfortable your dress is. you run your fingers over the blue sequins, seeing how they reflect the chandeliers above you. you can't believe Jamie's little stunt he pulled -- when did he even ask Sarah to make him that pocket square? you look over your left shoulder, trying to find him at the table behind you, but he's not there. when you look to your right and past Rebecca, you see a table with Richmond staff, but no still no Jamie. scanning the countless people at the event, you can't seem to spot him.

it seems you were looking too far, however, as when you look at the table diagonal to yours, also in the middle of the room, your eyes land on him immediately. he's already looking at you, lids low on his eyes as he stares. you quickly glance away, trying to hide the fact you were looking for him, but you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. he's sitting with other Richmond players, but doesn't seem engaged with them at all as he stares at you. you have no idea of knowing how long he's been staring at you, but decide to meet his eyes again. as predicted, he's still looking in your direction. unlike usually, his face isn't cocky or teasing. instead, his eyes are soft and dark, and his mouth is closed in a small and subtle smile, probably unaware of its presence on his face. your gentle smile morphs into a shy one as he doesn't break away from your stare.

looking back to your lap, you touch your fingertips up to brush your lips, replaying every second of your kiss with Jamie in the bathroom. your skin recalls each goosebump as you imagine the way his hands ran up your spine. as you remember the taste of his tongue against yours, a blush takes over your face and your vision blurs. days of tension and patient waiting were interrupted by that first kiss, and you hope that wasn't your last.

—

the evening continues smoothly; you all finish your meals and continue emptying the wine bottles. warmth runs through your veins as alcohol mixes with contentment, and you fight the urge to blurt out something stupid about Jamie in your conversations. this proves to be made extra hard with him in your peripheral vision, and you can feel his eyes on you every time you laugh. you get more flustered the more wine you drink, and it's a true struggle not to stand up, take Jamie's hand, and take him home.

your engrossed in conversation with Sassy and Ted when Rebecca speaks into the microphone on the stage. you hadn't even noticed her leaving the table, a testament to your tunnel vision after a few drinks. Keeley shuffles over to sit next to you, and you see Roy standing up from the table. he buttons his suit jacket swiftly as he slides past the other tables and towards the stage. Keeley grabs your hand and squeals; "time for the auction! I will literally kill anyone that bids on Roy."

"ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to support this year's annual Benefit for Underprivileged Children gala!"

the room breaks into a loud applause at Rebecca's words, and you take the opportunity to glance at Jamie. this time, to your surprise, he's not looking at you. his eyes are focused on the stage, and you use his distraction to look him up and down, eyes lingering on his pocket square. dragging your eyes upwards again, you notice Sam looking at you. he's sitting right next to Jamie, and is clapping absentmindedly as he stares at you with a challenging look, eyes squinting. you ignore him, quickly facing the stage again.

"now for the part you've all been waiting for," Rebecca continues, "the auction for a chance to spend an all-expenses paid evening with one of Richmond FC's very own football players!" everyone claps again, and the cheers get louder as Roy makes his way onto the stage. you jump at the sound of Keeley screaming beside you, her arms in the air as she claps for her boyfriend. his face remains expressionless as he lifts a hand up to salute to Keeley, and she does the same. she grabs your arm with one hand as the other holds her bidding paddle at the ready.

"I love it when he acts all 'I'm Roy and I don't smile'" she puts on a gruff voice as she smiles, "I just keep trying to make him crack!"

"first up, Roy Kent." Rebecca says, gesturing as Roy steps up to the microphone.

he takes a deep breath before using his best deadpan voice to say: "if any of you, other than Keeley Jones, put up your hand, I'll have you escorted out of here." the crowd laugh at his words, but his face stays cold as Keeley throws her paddle up into the air; "twenty-five thousand!" she shouts with a beaming smile, standing up from her seat with a small jump. "sold to the lovely lady in the puffy skirt!" Roy says into the mic before Rebecca even has the chance. Keeley squeals as Roy immediately exits the stage, making his way back over to the table. when he reaches Keeley, she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him sweetly. Ted coos at the gesture, and the players behind you cheer and ooh at the couple obnoxiously. Roy flips them off as he keeps his lips on Keeley's, and it makes you think of Jamie again.

when you flick your eyes over to his seat, you find it empty, but Sam still manages to catch your eyes again. you curse under your breath before forcing a smile. he points to the stage and when you turn your head, you see Jamie standing on the stage next to Rebecca. the spotlights make his pocket square sparkle, and the sight makes your heart beat faster than it should. "he's a possessive little bitch" Roy's words run circles around your head, and you can't help but admit you don't mind his possessiveness -- only when it comes to you.

"next we have a free meal with unlimited wine at the luxurious Richmond Hill Hotel with the one and only Jamie Tartt!" Rebecca exclaims, "and if the lucky bidder gets even luckier, she can have one night's stay in the hotel included!"

your cheeks flush a deep crimson as your mouth drops open wide. Sassy turns to you with a loud gasp, and Keeley cackles as she grabs your hand, bouncing up and down in her seat. your hands cover your mouth as you duck your head shyly, your entire table encouraging you to reach for your paddle. you finally make eye contact with Jamie, who is biting his lip with a teethy grin. he shoots you one of his classic winks and you sigh, picking up the paddle.

"let's start at five thousand for Jamie," Rebecca says.

you're about to put your number in the air, but someone else beats you to it. you look to the right, following the voice repeating the number, only to see Roy with his paddle in the air. the room erupts in laughter, including Jamie. Roy looks at you and winks; "we could get some extra training in," and he cracks you a smile.

"five thousand for Roy Kent? okay," Rebecca says as she holds back a laugh. her eyes are on you as she continues; "six thousand?"

finally lifting your paddle, you call out: "six thousand!"

Jamie smiles as Rebecca says your name into the microphone. unlike at the table earlier, his face is back to a cocky grin. strong arms crossed in front of his chest, his chin is held high as he runs his tongue across his teeth. his eyes are glued to yours, so you take it upon yourself to drag them up and down his body, enjoying the view. his trousers are tight around his thighs, and his arms practically bulge out of the suit jacket. how had you not noticed this earlier? how big he looks in the fitted outfit, and how much you like his blonde hair, and how the button up shirt he's wearing isn't white, but is actually the same shade of dusty pink as your shoes. your lips part as you realise just how much you two are matching, and your brows furrow in feigned anger. Jamie smirks as he sees you looking him up and down, but you decide to tease him just a bit more.

"do I hear seven thousand?"

eyes on his, you refuse to lift your paddle, despite Sassy trying to lift your hand. keeping it tucked under your crossed legs, you don't make any move to bid on him.

"seven thousand pounds!" you hear from behind you, and you turn to see Sam's hand in the air. everyone laughs again, and his joke starts a ripple effect amongst the football players.

"ten thousand." Isaac says bluntly, and when Jamie blows him a kiss from the stage he says: "love you, bruv!"

the bidding goes through a number of players dotted throughout the room until finally, the number reaches nineteen thousand.

"any more for any more?" Rebecca hopes, glaring at you.

Keeley drums on the table suddenly, and Sassy is quick to join in. soon, Roy, Ted, Beard, and even Jane are all tapping the table, giving you a drum roll.

"twenty thousand!" you shout, shaking your head as you throw your eyes to the sky. Rebecca doesn't give the chance for any more bids, immediately saying: "sold for twenty thousand to y/n y/l/n!"

Jamie laughs as he looks down at you, and you bite your lip as he mouths to you; "you're mine."

—

with the auction finished, and some of the Richmond players paired up with new potential wags, most of the tables are empty. although Rebecca couldn't hire the real ABBA, Higgins managed to find a more-than-decent cover band to take the stage as musical guest. you bounce up and down to the rhythm of the music, hand-in-hand with Rebecca. you spin her around, and she does the same to you as you sing along to the classic 'Dancing Queen', and you point to her every time the chorus plays. you laugh and cackle as you scream along to the songs, dancing with Rebecca and Keeley, and sometimes Sassy. allegedly, Roy doesn't dance, so Keeley has resorted to dancing on her own. she has long discarded her heels, and you wish you had the balls to do the same.

when the song switches to 'Chiquitita', Keeley collapses against Rebecca's chest, clutching her tightly in a hug. Sassy whispers something to Ted, who has been krumping the whole time, before they both disappear through the double doors into the hallway you had pulled Jamie through earlier. you smile as you watch them walk away, hand-in-hand. when you turn back to Keeley and Rebecca, you're surprised to see Sam standing in front of you, hand outstretched. you take it with a shy smile, and he pulls you close. you put a hand on his shoulder as he leans down, but he keeps the hand not holding yours to himself; how respectful. together, you move side to side as he has to shout in your ear to be heard above the music.

"where's Jamie?" he asks.

"I don't know," you reply, standing cheek to cheek so he can hear you.

"you look stunning tonight, y/n."

"thank you, Sam! you look great!" when you saw him at the bar earlier, you hadn't completely recovered from Jamie, so you hadn't noticed his sophisticated look for the night.

"I know you and Jamie were in the bathroom together," he says, ignoring your compliment, "and I noticed your matching outfits."

you roll your eyes, pulling him close to you so you can explain yourself; "I didn't know how was going to do that! Roy said he was being possessive."

"and Roy is right...," he says, twirling you around using your entwined hands, and he stops your spin halfway, allowing your eyes to fall on a sulking Jamie, "now go talk to Jamie. I've gotten him all jealous and bothered, now you have to handle the rest while I try to talk to Rebecca."

turning to face Sam again, you laugh wildly, slapping his arm as you pretend to be upset at his antics. he matches your expression, cackling as shakes his hips. you hold your pointer finger up to him, quickly grabbing his hand again and pulling him towards Rebecca, who is still holding Keeley in her arms. their height difference is exacerbated by Keeley's missing shoes, and her eyes are closed as she rests her head on Rebecca's chest. your boss looks at you, pursing her lips as she holds back her laughter. you move closer to her; "Sam has no one to dance with, maybe you can lend him a hand?" you say before leaning down to whisper in Keeley's ear. "Sam is here." you say, and she doesn't need any more information before standing up straight and dancing through the crowd and out of sight.

pushing Sam towards Rebecca, you let go of his hand, quickly fixing the twisted strap on your pumps before stepping back onto the carpet. fittingly so, the band starts singing 'Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!', and you smirk to myself as you walk towards Jamie. his jacket is unbuttoned, pockets hanging loosely at his side. with his head down, he has one hand in his pocket and the other fidgeting with a toothpick on top of the table. he doesn't notice you approach, so you move to stand behind him. you bend over slightly, folding your arms over his shoulders as you hold your face next to his. Jamie, stubborn as always, doesn't react to your presence, so you flatten your palms against his midriff, feeling his hard abs beneath his shirt. this makes him sit up slightly, taking a hand out of his pocket and placing it over your hands.

"isn't it funny you're at table six, and I was at table nine..." you say in his ear, but he ignores your silly comment.

your fingers drag up painfully slowly, reaching his chest before he drops his hand down. his chest moves up and down rapidly as he borderline pants at your touch. separating your hands, you bring them across his chest firmly before pulling them up to his shoulders. you squeeze his solid muscles, secretly admiring his strength.

"there's not a soul out there," you whisper along to the song, lips brushing his ear, "no one to hear my prayer,"

"Jamie," your voice is sultry in his ear, knowing exactly what you want from him right now. the song isn't helping your heated state, the bass pumping in your flushed chest. he tips his head back as you continue to massage his shoulders, resting it in the crook of your neck. you can see every inch of the soft skin on his throat, and you drag your eyes over his adam's apple as it bobs with his nervous gulp. stopping the movement of your fingers, Jamie stands up abruptly, buttoning his jacket with shaky hands.

smirking as you look up at him, he clenches his jaw and shakes his head as if telling you not to say anything. without another word, he takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers tightly, and walks towards the door. he pushes through the first set of double doors, you in tow, before suddenly coming to a halt. you stand beside him, both of you silent for a few seconds. torrential rain slaps the pavement outside of the venue, and you look at your clothes with wide eyes. he does the same, and when your eyes meet again, you both laugh. his hand comes up to brush his air back as he looks out at the rain, but your eyes are glued to his bicep. the seams of jacket look like they're about to burst as he flexes his muscles, and your smile fades into an O-shape as your jaw slacks. yes, he's a professional footballer, but he's so big, and so muscular. your eyes drop down as you lean back, taking a glimpse of his backside, and that is definitely a rugby ass.

"fuck it," he mumbles, pulling you from your trance, and before you know it he's pulling you outside. you rush down the steps, squeezing his hand tight so you don't slip, before running to the street corner. there's a line of black cabs picking up guests, and Jamie pulls open the door to one. holding open the door for you, he lets you crawl in first, before ducking down.

"hi!" you chirp to the driver as Jamie climbs in next to you, "sorry you have to drive in this weather," you apologise before giving him your address through the plastic privacy partition. the driver closes it, so you buckle your seatbelt, and once Jamie's shut the door, he does the same.

"we're going to yours?" he asks, pushing his dripping wet hair out of his eyes.

"yeah." you say simply, smiling at him. you're sure you look like a drowned rat, and you hope your makeup isn't running down your face. despite only being in the rain for a minute or so, you're both completely soaked.

you look at each other for a few seconds as the driver takes off, and you can't help but laugh at each other's appearance.

"you look like you do after training, but... worse," you giggle, pushing a misplaced strand of his hair over.

"and you look... just a little bit melted," he laughs, "but still gorgeous." while you laugh, your lip quivers as you shiver from the cold rain, so he shrugs off his wet jacket, laying it over your legs in a poor attempt to keep you warm, but it's the thought that counts.

turning to look through the window, the air suddenly grows a little bit awkward. five minutes ago you were ready to let him do whatever he wanted to you, and now you're sitting next to each other in a silent cab completely drenched from the rain. you sigh, thinking about your next move. you want to reach over the middle seat and take his hand in his -- quite frankly, you'd prefer to straddle him and make out with him right here and now. but you stick with your first option, glancing down at your lap before sliding your hand over and taking his. as you fold your fingers together you bring his hand up, brushing your lips over the back of it as you kiss each of his knuckles. you don't look at him, just hold his hand in your lap as you continue staring out the window.

the drive continues in silence for a few more minutes, before Jamie clears his throat. eyes glued to the street, you don't look at him when he speaks; "aren't you happy you won me in the auction?" you can hear the smirk in his voice as he says it, and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"is this our free date night, then? because I was actually going to give it to my dad as a birthday gift, he loves you." you reply, still avoiding turning to him.

"I'll make sure he tells you how good I am in the bedroom," this makes you snap your head towards him, mouth agape, and he laughs at your expression as he tosses his head back against the car seat. you laugh along with him, staring at his bright smile. your eyes drop down and look at how his wet button up clings to his skin, and suddenly your heart beat speeds up again.

attempting to calm yourself, you look at the jacket draped over your lap. reaching for its pocket, you pull the folded blue fabric out of it. you hold it up to Jamie, raising your eyebrows in silent question. his expression falls sheepish again, smile fading. he glances out the window briefly before turning to you again, concerned look on his face.

"y/n, I just wanna say -- I'm sorry if me wearin' that pocket square made you uncomfortable. I guess I was so wrapped up in all of the flirting and everythin' that I didn't think about how it would look wearin' that tonight," his words are sincere as he looks at you with furrowed brows.

"Jamie," you whisper, eyes softening as you process his worry, "thank you for apologising, but don't worry. sure, it was surprising, but honestly I think it's really fit..."

his worried look turns to confusion as he puckers his lips; "what? are you serious?" he asks you, eyebrows arched.

"yes, Jamie, I'm being very serious. why do you think I took you to the bathroom and made out with you?" you say, absentmindedly playing with the fingers wrapped around your hand.

his eyes look to the ceiling of the car, and he licks his lips as he thinks hard. sighing, he starts slowly nodding his yet; "yeah... I guess so... well-played." he says, winking at you, and suddenly he's back to his regular, teasing self.

"so, why aren't we going to my superstar footballer mansion?" he asks, lips frowning in a grimace.

"because my penthouse flat is right here," you say, ducking your head down and pointing out of his window. the cab stops right in front of the small car park of your apartment. it's not a big building by any means, so it's more like a drive way that have a few cars parked on it. Jamie looks up at the four-storey building before looking at you with a bored expression.

"penthouse?" he repeats, pointing his thumb out the window, "how luxurious." he rolls his eyes before digging through his trouser pocket, pulling out a money clip.

"a money clip?" your tone now matches his, "what are you? fifty?"

"here ya go, sir," he hands a wad of cash to the taxi driver without even knowing how much the ride was. he ignores your comment, opening the door and holding it for you. you pass him his jacket, and when you step out of the car, he throws it over your shoulders. the rain is still lashing, and you make a run for the front door as Jamie closes the cab door and thanks the driver.

you hold your clutch over your head as you try to shield your hair from any more rain, but you doubt it helps at all. you knock on the double doors to the entrance, and the doorkeeper sitting in his small booth inside buzzes you in. Jamie catches up with you and places a hand on the small of your back as you walk inside. you shrug his jacket off, handing it to him as you make your way to the lift. he folds it over his arm, and smiles at the doorkeeper as you walk past his desk. you press the button to call the lift, and the doors immediately open.

"Jamie Tartt?" he asks out loud, completely bewildered.

the two of you step inside the lift, and when Jamie turns to face him with a friendly face, he holds a finger to his lips as if to shush him. the door slides closed, and the doorkeeper remains in shock the entire time. leaning against the wall, you stare up at Jamie with an amused grin, but the second the lift starts its ascent, Jamie turns to you. he grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. your hand flies up to clutch his wrist as you lose yourself to his touch. you waste no time slipping your tongue into his mouth again, and you feel like you can finally breathe. all evening you imagined doing this again, and now your body shivers as the anticipation comes to an end.

the lift stops, and Jamie stands up instantly, clearing his throat. you're left panting against the mirrored wall of the lift as it dings and the doors open. Jamie stands aside, holding out a hand as he beckons for you to walk in front of him. pushing yourself up, you pop open your clutch to dig for your keys. when you walk past Jamie he, of course, gives you a small slap to your ass. you squeak at the noise, but don't say anything else, pulling your housekeys from your bag. Jamie follows you around the corner and towards your door, and when you unlock it and push it open, the warmth of your apartment feels like heaven on your wet skin.

"it's small, but it's all I need really," you explain to Jamie as you walk towards your sofa. "nah, it's nice," he smiles at you sweetly, the opposite to the way he looked at you in the lift.

your living room and kitchen are conjoined, and the space definitely isn't the biggest, but its coziness welcomes you. dropping yourself onto the plush couch, you sink into the pillows, staring at Jamie. he clicks the door shut behind him before slipping off his dress shoes and placing them next to your doormat, right beside your work shoes. he turns and walks towards you, unbuttoning his jacket and throwing it over the arm of your grey sofa. you expect him to sit down next to you, but instead, he crouches down, kneeling on the ground proposal-style. quickly sitting up, you stare down at him skeptically, wondering what his next move is. his eyes hold yours as he slides his hands up your calves, and goosebumps raise on the smooth skin instantly. leaning forward, Jamie pushes your dress an inch over your knees before gently kissing them. you can't help but laugh at the feeling, it tickling slightly due to your damp skin. his thumbs slide over the divots in your knees, and graze over some scar you've had since childhood.

his hands slide down your legs before he focuses his fingers on the clasp of your heels. lifting your right foot up slightly, he brings his lips to your ankle, kissing gently before sliding the pump off. he does the same to the your other foot, and the relief of having your shoes off makes you sigh as you hang your head back. Jamie presses his thumbs into the sole of your left foot, easily rubbing the knot out of the arch of your foot. a small whine slips from your lips at the feeling, and Jamie lets a low chuckle slip as he moves on to your other foot, doing the exact same thing. this time, you manage to hold back your groans, biting down on your bottom lip with your eyes screwed shut.

moving his lips back to your ankle, Jamie straightens out your leg, running kisses up the side of your calf. when he reaches your knee, he brings your leg back down before sliding his hands up to your thighs, one hand on each leg. you lift your head to look down at him, and his eyes hold a pleading look as he stares up at you. your lips part, completely invigorated by the sight of Jamie on his knee in front of you, hands hidden under your dress, practically begging to touch you. leaning forward, you take control, wrapping his tie around your fist as you pull up, helping him back to his feet. he holds his hands out for you, and you take them as he lifts you from the sofa. staring up at him, hands resting in his, your flutter your lashes.

"you okay?" Jamie whispers, a crooked smile appearing on your face.

you nod and hum in response, letting go of one of his hands and stepping past him. he follows you as you pull his hand, walking down the hallway. you pass the bathroom, heading straight for your bedroom. leaving the door open behind you, you push Jamie into the room ahead of you, letting go of his hand. he sits down at the end of your bed, legs spread. you slot between them, back turned to him. reaching up, his fingers delicately pull at the zip on the back of the dress as you pull down the straps, and you think back to the boutique; you knew you wanted tonight to end this way, but never in a million years had you actually thought it would.

as the dress drops from your frame, you hear Jamie's breath hitch at the sight of your pink lingerie. his hands immediately come to your waist, spinning you to face him. straddling his lap, your hands come up to his neck as his hold your back to keep you up. a smile creeps onto your face as your cheeks go hot, and Jamie mirrors you. moving to look down to avoid your gaze, his eyes snap up again immediately, flustered by the lace covering your body. a giggle escapes your lips as you pulls his face to yours, pressing kisses to each cheek before moving up to his forehead, then down to his nose, before finally reconnecting your lips.

deepening the kiss, your lips move against his with a hasty hunger, and as you're about to slip your tongue into his mouth again, Jamie pulls back; "oh shit," he says, and you shake your head in confusion.

"what?" you ask, embarrassment beginning to cloud your mind as you stare at him expectantly.

he avoids your eyes, shaking his head with his lips parted in thought; "I forgot to sign out after work today."

———

i told u this would be long x_x

thank u so so much for reading richmond's receptionist! i've had the most fun writing this and will probs write an epilogue asap (i'm not ready to move on yet)! any feedback is welcomed and appreciated, thank u! <3

[koalayoo]

ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ, ʙᴏʏ

michael kaiser x gn!reader

content: pure fluff for the most part, soft! bf kaiser, reference to his backstory, kind of cocky, better than my last fic for sure

author's note: wanted to write a good christmasy bday fic for him. bit late, apologies. not really proofread or beta'd. apologies again.

wc. 1.3k

Kaiser had never celebrated Christmas.

Christmas was also his birthday.

That means Kaiser has never celebrated his birthday.

This was what had become apparent to you in your relationship with Kaiser, when all the walls between you two had become bulldozed and you realised, yeah, this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. You had come to understand that with Kaiser’s upbringing and all that he would have probably never received a gift from his father. You wonder if at that age he knew what Christmas was.

Then you started tumbling head-first into a hole of unanswered questions. What would he have even done for his birthday? Was anyone there to ever celebrate with him? You knew how bad he had it growing up, you regrettably knew. Part of you wished you didn’t know how bad it was, hoped that sometimes his father grew to be lenient or that maybe the old women in town that would see him around knew his name. Knew him to be more than Michael “professional neighbour thief” Kaiser and instead as the kid he was. That was just wishful thinking though.

He had received gifts, which was expected. He was a pro athlete but he also had Ness from the age of 15 who had most definitely gifted him something you assumed but weren’t privy to the details. However, he hadn’t celebrated. Hadn’t experienced true Christmas joy. He doesn’t know the feeling of waking up early and ripping open the wrapping paper on specially curated gifts that sit under the tree you both decorated together. Hasn’t felt what it’s like making cookies with the radios ruffled Christmas carols sputtering in the background. Wearing matching sweaters while watching stupidly predictable themed rom coms. Making a wreath to put on the front door. Kissing under the mistletoe. Ughhh, there was so much you needed to show him.

So, you did just that.

As soon as December started, you did your utmost best to get him into the festive spirit.

On the 1st, you brought home a tree and excitedly decorated it with Kaiser. Putting various coloured ornaments on, some the typical solid coloured balls, others with stripes and patterns, differing sizes, differing shapes. Then, Kaiser had placed you on his shoulders so that you could place the star on the tippity top despite your insistence it be him.

On the 5th, you went shopping with two very important things in mind. A wreath, and some ugly sweaters. On the way you slipped in some ingredients for cookies too.

On the 14th, you had started wrapping some presents. You had both agreed 3 presents was a good amount to give one another but you couldn’t help but feel a gnaw at the back of your head. It was also his birthday, you just had to double it.

On the 17th, you had put the wreath up which welcomed him home from a long day at practice.

On the 22nd, you had finally worn the sweaters which you had taken a polaroid of before promptly taking them off, sweltering from the heat of the oven that was baking the cookies you both had put hours into making. Later that night, bad christmas movie #1 was watched.

The 23rd and 24th followed a similar routine. Jam out to a different song before you got sick of it and watch another bad christmas movie. 

Then, it was the day.

All the extra presents you hid from him were placed under the tree and you made hot cocoa for two. You had to work quickly, Kaiser was used to waking up at the odd early hours of the morning and there was no doubt he would feel you missing next to him.

Soon, he had stumbled down the stairs and was greeted with you wrapping a blanket around him. You had pulled him down onto the floor and planted a present in front of him, a chaste kiss pressed against his forehead.

“Happy Birthday, handsome.” You whispered softly into the air.

He had begun to wake up more and noticed the excessive amount of presents under the tree. He looked at the presents, then at you, and an eyebrow raised comically.

“And, Merry Christmas too, I guess…” You playfully rolled your eyes with a small smile appearing on your face. “Although that one’s of lesser importance.”

He sighs although he can’t help the small upwards tilt of his lips. “Thought we agreed on 3 each?” “Yeah, but it’s your birthday too! I wasn’t gonna be one of those people, ya know? The ones who just say the Christmas presents are also their birthday presents. You deserve to be celebrated twice.” 

“Yeah but-” And you briefly cut him off because if there was one thing you knew about Kaiser which was wrapped behind layers just like the presents was this feeling of foreboding. That he didn’t deserve this. However, your job as his brilliant partner was to teach him to sit there and take it.

So you started to celebrate, taking turns ripping the presents you both put love and care into wrapping. For every 2 gifts Kaiser opened, you opened one of yours in tandem. You giggled seeing him get you exactly what you wanted and teased him when a small blush appeared on his face when he got the same.

Although, there was one last present you wanted to give him.

A house full of love.

You wanted him to learn this holiday season that you were truly never leaving. Not like his mother, or even his begrudging father. That you were full of love for him and everything that came with choosing him. The arguments, the boundaries, the fear; you couldn’t fix it but you could help and that’s the sentiment you hoped to get across.

Later that day when you finished putting your gifts away and throwing the egregious amount of wrapping paper, you enter the living room to see Kaiser plotting. 

Before you can fully enter he spits out, “Stay right there.” You murmur in acknowledgement and stay put, eyes trailing the figure that is walking towards you suspiciously, one hand placed firmly behind him. You shoot him a questioning look to which he shakes his head, not budging.

“Should invite Ness over.” 

“Why would we do that?” He questions. “Fine with just me and you here, no?”

“Season of forgiveness, champ. Do I need to teach you how to be a good friend too?”

He’s stalked all the way over to you now. He towers above you and the hand he isn’t hiding comes to hold the top of the frame, leaning down towards you. His shirt lifts a little. You look. Then you look back at your boyfriend who has leaned in even closer.

His nose nudges against yours and you knew this was one of his ways of trying to assert dominance with the way a small brazen smirk made its way to his face. Could this guy try not to be a dick for one day? You notice the way his lips brush against yours slightly and you sigh, trying not to be pulled in.

“Answer?”

“Mmm, I’ll think about it?” He chuckles and leans in to swoop your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It didn’t last long because his smile broke the seal between you two apart. His eyes have a gleam in them and they flick up causing you to do the same.

Oh. 

A mistletoe.

“When did you learn about this one?” You whisper softly, genuinely curious.

“I had a tough childhood, doesn’t mean I lived under a rock.” He laughs again, this time more joyfully. You’re not sure whether it’s the fact that he successfully tricked you or that you truly rendered him this clueless.

Then, there’s a knock at the door. You see the sliver of magenta hair through the window panels near the door before you hear him.

Oh.

Maybe Kaiser doesn’t need you to guide him after all.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Title is from December by Ariana Grande. Thanks for reading!

[bee-the-loser-recs]

~✩✮ My Jaehyun One-shot Fic Recs ✩✮~

★ Send in the clowns By @smileysuh 10.6k, Haechan|Mark|Jaehyun x reader, college au, frat boys NCT, best friend Jungwoo, friends to lovers, karaoke friends, smut, polyamory, slight fluff, Halloween parties, dressing up

★ The V week spy By @smileysuh 20.1k, Jaehyun x reader (romantic) ft. Haechan | Yangyang | Jungwoo | Jeno, college au, frat house NCT, sorority member reader, stupid traditions, no strings attached situation, smut, slight fluff

★ Racer By @smileysuh 6.7k, street racing au, brother's rival Jaehyun, Jonny is reader's brother, fluff, smut, slight angst, accidents, car crash, star crossed lovers, secret relationship

★ Christmas Puppy By @smileysuh 11k, university au, fratboy Jaehyun, best friend's brother trope, boy next door, secret romance, holiday times, sneaking around together

★ Sandwich By @smileysuh 11.6k, Jungwoo x reader x Jaehyun, frat au, established relationship between Jungwoo & reader, inviting Jaehyun to join, polyamory, basketball players Jungwoo & Jaehyun, reader is referred to as "Ducky"

★ No guidance By @yutaholic 20k, pregnancy au, long term fwb/dating, struggling to commit to a relationship, child birth, smut, angst, fluff, heavily dialogue

★ I'll always be here By @jaehyunsprincesspeach Comfort, reader has had a bad week, mentions of stress and burn out, fluff, slight sad vibes, cuddles, falling asleep together

★ Rose bud By @hazyhae 9.2k, college au, non-idol au, stoner Jaehyun & reader, college parties, jealousy, smut, angst, slight fluff, fuckboy Jaehyun, misunderstandings & miscommunication, pining, borrowing clothes

★ Ordinary By @markiemelon Drabble, fluff, Idol Jaehyun, coffee shop worker reader, Jaehyun slips her his number, cute

★ Freaks I By @2jaeh 8k, college au, romantic interest, smut, slight fluff, art students, flirty relationship with friends Ten & Taeyong, poly themes, technically cheating as Jaehyun has a girlfriend, preppy!Jaehyun, badgirl reader

★ Stars, moons & other celestial bodies By @kiachiako 26.7k, retro themed au, brother's friend trope, childhood crush, pining, Taeyong is reader's brother, coming of age, slight age gap, home for the summer, angst, fluff

★ Trust me not By @starillusion13 9.1k, Boss unit x reader, mafia au, angst, slight fluff, keeping secrets, anniversary surprises, themes of betrayal, getting shot, open ending

★ Foreign swaggers By @starillusion13 8k, Jonny | Jaehyun | Mark x reader, brother's best friend au, Taeyong is reader's brother, shared vacation, smut, fluff, polyamory, enemies to friends to lovers, drinking

★ Strawberry Sunday By @babbymochiiii Non-specified au, DoJaeJung x reader, ice cream shop workers, flirting, polyamory situation, mutual crushes, smut, slight fluff, shy natured reader, inspired by the song "Strawberry Sunday"

★ Quarantine Chronicles 1, part 2, part 3 By @domjaehyun 28.5k & 55.3k & 43k, Quarantine au, Jaemin | Jaehyun | Jungwoo | Johnny | Mark | (Jeno | Haechan in part 3 only) x reader, roommates (except Mark), friends with benefits situation, lots of tension & flirting, smut, slight fluff, crack, Jaehyun & Mark have actual feelings for reader

★ Fiending By @domjaehyun 27.1k, Jaehyun x reader x Jeno, college au, fratboys NCT, smut, incubi Jaehyun & Jeno, alcohol, parties, long term "pining", potentially triggering, mild humour

★ Hot girl bummer By @domjaehyun 6.2k, non-idol au, brother's best friend trope, smut, kind of enemies to lovers, sexual tension, strong feelings

★ Make a mess out of you By @domjaehyun 5.8k, non-idol au, established relationship, reader is eating a popsicle, beach trip with 127, jealousy, smut, reader is rather innocent

★ If you need a lover By @suhnshinehaos SMAU, university au, pure fluff, valentines day dates, mutual crushes, gift for Jaehyun's birthday, Instagram posts

★ Love grows By @juyeoniemyhoney 2.1k, model Jaehyun, long time friends to lovers, head over heels Jaehyun, suggestive nature, fluff

★ Romanée-conti By @yougotthatbilly 24k, sugar daddy!Jaehyun, slowburn, smut, development of feelings & attachment to one another, pet names, initially no sexual component to the relationship, slight fluff

★ Coming of age By @gamerwoo 5.5k, soulmate au, body swap soulmark, accidentally "traumatising" friends, fluff, continuously missing each other, comedy, cute, running around campus to find one another

★ Love galore By @kongjjen 1.3k, established relationship, non-specified au, cuties, wearing each other's clothes, a lot of domesticity, suggestive, a man in love

★ When the fratboy falls By @gyeomsweetgyeom 8.9k, fratboy Jaehyun, college au, reader is tutoring Jaehyun, instant attraction, developing feelings, fluff, frat parties, flirty Haechan, pet names

★ Your biggest fan By @gyeomsweetgyeom Established relationship, western popstar reader, idol Jaehyun, revelation of the relationship, photos taken of the two without their knowledge, fluff, positive reaction

★ [8:46pm] By @gyeomsweetgyeom Establishing relationship, early stages of dating, reader is kind of inexperienced, fluff, sending flowers to one another, returning the energy, cute

★ Just makes sense By @gyeomsweetgyeom Idol Jaehyun x idol reader, fans continuously shipping them, strong friendship to lovers, discussion of feelings, fluff, cute

★ No clue By @xomakara 11.9k, college au, best friends to lovers, jealousy, frat parties, flirting with other to hide feelings, scheming friends, getting together, smut, slight fluff, pet names

★ Sugar 1 & 2 By @lattaeyongs 4k & 14k, CEO Jaehyun, secretary reader, they've been working together for 8 years, single dad Jaehyun, fluff, smut, slight angst, reader feels guilt about her job

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Let The Rain Fall | Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Reader | Short Series - Part 1 of 4 - 2.6k

Bucky finds your file and is shocked to learn you're not in the field, despite your excellent test scores. Although Steve advises him to let it go, Bucky sets to work on convincing you instead.

Warnings: nothing yet really. Some reference to Bucky's time as the Winter Solider but it's very brief.

Masterlist | Let the Rain Fall Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Bucky dropped another manila folder onto the desk and leant back in his office chair with a sigh. Across the table Steve looked up from his equally towering pile of agent folders and eyed his friend.  

“Tired?” He asked, closing the latest file and placing it carefully with the others he’d already assessed.  

“This is exhausting, there must be a hundred agents here.” Bucky kept his face covered by his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.  

“Sixty.”  

“What?”  

“There’s sixty, but some of them already have positions.”  

“Of all the automated shit in this century, this, this, is what we have to do by hand?” 

Steve didn’t look up again, “it’s to keep staff information safe after...well...after everything.  

Bucky tensed; he knew what Steve meant by everything. Flashes of that day still came back to him sometimes in his dreams and his nightmares. Moments of clarity in an otherwise hazy memory, explosions, jets falling from the sky and water, fear and freedom. 

“Well, we already found the best candidate, right at the top, her scores and rankings are incredible.” 

Bucky handed Steve the folder, the covering page turned back so he could see the smiling face of the agent in her profile.  

Steve did look up then, “not her, sorry.” He ducked back down, folding the cover back over and attempting to take the folder from Bucky.  

“Why not? She’s a crack shot, scored well in all the reasoning tests and has excellent recommendations from her tutors. She even has a sealed folder from Xavier’s School, but she must have done well to get the college course she wanted.”  

“I know, but she requested desk duty and we’re respecting that. So, not her. She might do some digital recon, if you ask nicely. But she oversees the mission records now.”  

“Steve, she has a sealed envelope, what if it’s a power? How can you leave her on desk duty.” Bucky insisted.  

It was Steve’s turn to sigh, pushing his hand through his blonde hair until it stuck up in tufts. “Remember when you wanted desk duty? Remember how you have a sealed envelope in your folder? I respected you; I respect her. She’s a great Agent, but she’s not going into the field. Drop it.”  

The two men eyed each other for a second before Bucky stood, grabbing his leather jacket from the back of his chair. “I’m going for a walk. I need a break.”  

Bucky stalked through the Avenger’s compound, allowing the door to the private offices to close with a bang. He’d intended to head towards the gym to work off his frustrations at the incredibly tedious task of picking new agents and the even more frustrating realisation that the only agent he’d shortlisted had voluntarily taken themselves out of the field.  

Before he knew it, he was scanning his pass card and weaving his way through the open plan office that sat opposite the Avenger’s private space. He knew a few people here, mostly from bumping into them on the way into work or at the coffee shop on the ground floor.  

Stopping by one of the assistant’s desks he asked for directions to Mission Records, only to be pointed to a set of small, two people sized, meeting rooms that sat at the edge of the otherwise open space.  

Cautiously he picked through the maze of desks and paused outside of the door. Inside he could hear the faint sound of humming and the swish of papers, after a few seconds there was a dull thud as if something had dropped onto a desk and bounced off quickly. Underlying this was the sound of rain, despite the fact it was a dry day. 

Taking a shaky breath to steady his nerves, Bucky knocked on the door.  

“Who is it?” The voice inside was high and lilting, definitely nervous.  

“Uhm - it’s Sergeant Barnes...” Bucky tried to sound authoritative but, honestly, he hadn’t been in charge of anyone or anything since he was Steve’s second in 1945 and now that he was trying, panic was rising inside of him like a tide.  

From behind the door, he heard another dull thump and the paper noise stopped, but the rain continued. 

“You can come in.”  

Bucky turned the handle slowly, ducking his head and wishing he’d at least taken a lap of the office to think of what he was going to say to you, and then he was inside.  

The small office space was considerably cooler than the main office, with the faint smell of fresh linen fabric softener. It wouldn’t normally be the kind of detail he’d notice, except that he liked it too and knew it wasn’t sold at the small grocery shop on the other side of the compound. You had to go all the way into town for anything other than Tony’s preferred fruit cocktail scent. He was lost in his thoughts when he looked up, and there you were.  

Your folder had boasted of your prowess with a gun, your efficiency with a knife, tenacity during physical training and, although there was a picture of you in your official agent’s uniform, he had not been prepared for meeting you in real life.  

He was, in fact, surprised to recognise you considering the wave of people that seemed to roam around the compound. He’d seen you eating alone on the grass outside, and reading in the atrium when it was raining after hours. It was odd to see you in your own office, you looked so different to the official image of you on file. 

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes.” You said, politely but with that edge of nervousness still bubbling beneath the surface. 

He took you in. Your soft, pale blue cotton shirt over what was clearly a pair of sweatpants, despite the fact they were a dark blue. Although your trousers fit you, the shirt was too large, it didn’t quite fit correctly and the sleeves were so long that your hands were covered up to your knuckles by the cuffs. As his gaze travelled over you, you shifted, pulling your hands inside of the sleeves completely and then tucking your hands under your thighs.  

You looked small, in such a large chair, wider than his own with a comfortable, quilted back and seat, your legs crossed neatly under your desk as if you were sitting on the floor.  

The desk itself was home to an array of trinkets and toys, all lined up along the top edge and around the double screen of your computer. Bucky marvelled at your ability to keep up with such a thing, he found his own laptop screen quite enough brightness. But then your room was darker than his office with Steve and the blaring overhead light.  

You shifted again, looking at him pointedly.  

“Would you like to sit down?” You indicated a round armchair that took up most of the rest of the space and he sat down heavily, aware of his large black boots and wide frame in such a small space.  

“Thanks,” he hesitated. 

Awkwardly, you quickly gave your name, as if he hadn’t read your folder a hundred times.  

You allowed one of your hands to be freed from its confines under your leg, but only to chew the pad of your thumb while you gazed somewhere over Bucky’s left shoulder.  

Bucky’s stomach turned over and he angled his shoulder back self consciously. You snapped your eyes to his and then looked down at your thumb, “sorry,” before snatching one of the toys from your desk and beginning to push the little plastic bubbles in and out.  

“I wanted to talk to you about your scores at the academy.”  

“Oh?” You kept your eyes on the toy.  

“They’re very good.”  

“Yes, I’m very proud of them myself.”  

“And you graduated college?”  

You looked up again, “look I know it took me a little longer than everyone else but I -”  

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, “it wasn’t a comment on how or when, just that you had.”  

“Oh,” you nodded, “okay.”  

Pop, pop, pop.  

“Sorry, did you need something from me? It’s just best if you’re really clear and then I can answer.” You placed the little plastic toy back in its place on the desk.  

“I wanted you to join the Avengers Agents, we have three open spots and I’d like you to take one of them.”  

“No, thank you.” You smiled at him, it was a friendly but firm smile that reached your eyes enough to let him know you were at least flattered, but that this really was a no and for some reason it made him absolutely furious.  

“If you’re worried about the other agents then -” 

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want to.”  

“There’s lots of training and -”  

“No, thank you.”  

“It’s a great -”  

“I said, no.” You snapped and then plastered that smile back on the lower part of your face. “Thank you.”  

You turned to your computer and began typing and Bucky stood feeling smaller than he had in a long time.  

“Can I ask why?”  

Your typing stopped but you didn’t look at him.  

“I already documented that I’d ask you, so if you don’t want to, I  just need a reason.” He waved at the twin stacks of paper in your ‘in’ and ‘out’ trays. “You know what the paperwork is like here.”

“I don't like the uniform, it’s itchy and uncomfortable. Is that good enough?” You cocked your eyebrow at him and then turned, pointedly, back to your work.  

Bucky left with a nod, closing the door quietly behind him and pausing long enough to hear the shift of paper again.  

Your conversation with Sergeant Barnes had left you rattled, so as soon as he’d walked away you closed your computer down with a sigh and left the office for the day. You’d come in extra early tomorrow to make up for it, it’d be quieter in the morning anyway and you could hopefully get ahead by 10am and then enjoy a quiet coffee and some time curled up reading before the next round of debriefs were submitted.  

The office was empty at 7.30am, the lights still off and the scent of the cleaners all-purpose spray still lingering in the air. You’d only managed to settle in and grab a coffee before there was a sharp knock on the door and a familiar shadow looming through the frosted glass.  

“Come in.”  

Sergeant Barnes opened the door tentatively and peeked around the frosted glass, “morning.” 

He smiled awkwardly, hovering in the doorway with a large black garment bag before you beckoned him in and pointed towards the spare chair.  

“Morning,” you smiled back automatically, but before you could drop it a genuine flash of happiness passed over the Sergeant’s face and your smile moved from forced to genuine too. There weren’t many people who were actually happy to see you around the office, and yet here was Barnes, again, smiling at you.  

“I’m really sorry about yesterday.” He said, seriously, “I didn’t mean to push you, I was just worked up.”  

Whatever you’d been expecting when he’d knocked, it wasn’t this.  

“Oh, well.” You moved in your seat, pulling your hands inside your sleeves again, a navy-blue fleece lined sweater today, since the weather was unseasonably cold, the collar was turned over under your chin where you’d been fiddling with it. “I was short with you too, I can be a bit – sensitive, about – things. So, I’m sorry too.”  

“Then we’re even,” he smiled and settled into his chair more, looking around at your office.  

Suddenly you felt self-conscious, this was your space and it was hard won. You’d filled it with every soft thing that you needed to make it through your days in the office, cute mugs, fidget toys, blankets and even a teddy. While Sergeant Barnes was looking at your bookshelf you tried to move the little bear from his prominent position next to your monitor and into the open draw by your side, but he caught you and grinned instead.  

“Cute bear.”  

You snatched it up and squeezed its soft body between both your hands. “Thank you.”  

There was an awkward silence as the Sergeant seemed to think of what to say next and then he grabbed the garment bag again, as if he’d forgotten it as soon as he’d sat down.  

“Oh, yes, I was talking to Steve about what you said yesterday -” he looked up at your blank face, “Steve Rogers, you know ahh-” he rubbed his cheek as if he could remove the red smudge of embarrassment. 

“I guessed.”  

“Right, of course, I spoke to Steve, and he said that if that was what was holding you back then it was an easy fix and -” he pulled the zipper down on the bag revealing a black-on-black ensemble inside. Fitted combat trousers with pockets and an empty utility belt as well as a black, long-sleeved, shirt and flack vest. “It’s all made of a cotton blend with reinforced, lightweight, Kevlar. If you like it we can look at adding Vibranium for strength. It has a fleece lining, I noticed you had two fleece lined items in here and took a risk, so it should be soft on your skin. What do you think?”  

Bucky beamed at you from across your desk and your stomach twisted into knots, a yawning chasm of silence opening between you the longer you didn’t answer. You knew what you were supposed to say, you knew you were supposed to be excited and say yes and run off to be an Agent.   

“It smells like my fabric softener.” You blurted. 

“Yes, I figured you used the one from the store in town, I hope that wasn’t presumptuous?” 

For a moment you reached out to touch the sleeve, it was soft and it smelt lovely. But -

“Thank you, Sergeant Barnes, I can see you’ve gone to a lot of effort -”  

“But it’s still a no?”  

“It’s still a no.”  

“Okay.” He said, kindly, zipping the garment bag back up. You expected him to leave, taking it with him, but instead he hung it on an empty hook by your door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and that you’re welcome to join us anytime. There’s a big budget, especially for talented agents, I’d hate for something like a uniform to hold you back.” 

“Thank you.”  

“There’s a simple recon next week, Steve and I are leading some of the other newly qualified agents and he said you sometimes do recon, there’s a seat open for you if you want, but there’ll be no hard feelings if you don’t come.” 

“Okay.” 

You weren’t sure if it was the awkwardness or his earnest smile, but you had the urge to hug him. You hadn’t hugged anyone since you’d moved to the compound and you missed the comforting feeling of it, he even smelt lovely and for the briefest moment you imagined him holding you close to him. He had a black cotton shirt on with a dark green and blue flannel over the top. It looked soft, and now your arms felt empty and heavy at your sides, with no one to hold but yourself.It felt strange, too, to be wanted. You’d mostly assumed your colleagues were glad to be rid of you. Instead of embracing him, you stood and offered your hand, allowing him to squeeze your palm before he left, and then spent the next three hours wondering about his request.  

Part 2 ->