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tb-gerschutz · 1 year

Text

Chapter One

Word Count: 7,373

Trigger Warning(s): Foul language, possible depictions of violence

Summary: A rookie agent pairs up with the Statesman's highest-ranked agents for an extremely dangerous mission.

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I found myself sitting patiently in an empty, quiet waiting room, waiting for my interview to begin. Wanting to impress the person interviewing me, I followed the requested dress, which was fairly clear and not specific. Having some freedom with the dress code, I decided to dress in dark blue denim jeans, a gray button-up shirt, and a black denim jacket. In addition, I wore a beautiful black-and-gold watch on my right wrist, admiring a possession of mine that I had bought with my own money. Everytime I look at that watch, I think about what happens when I follow my daddy's advice.

If you want something, you have to work for it.

My daddy always gave me and my siblings some reliable words to live by, but I just seemed to take them more to heart than they did. I looked up to my daddy, who perfectly balanced his work, social, and family lives as if it was too easy. He never showed fear, even though I knew he was scared out of his mind, and that's why I admire him. My momma said that I was always a "daddy's girl" since day one, and it definitely showed. Despite her also saying that I looked a lot like him, I see myself as the perfect blend of my mother and father.

My patience paid off when the person interviewing me stepped into the room. He was a fairly elderly gentleman who looked to be in his mid-forties. He was wearing a formal suit and tie, with a golden Amuda watch gracing his left wrist. I could tell right away that he was a man of business who disliked injustice in the world of politics.

"Are you my ten o'clock interview?" he asked.

"Yes I am," I answered, rising from my seat quickly to face him. "Pleasure to meet you face-to-face, Mr. President."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?" he asked.

"Veronica. Veronica Crawford," I stated. "But everyone calls me Rocky."

"Nice to meet you, Veronica. Welcome to the Statesman Agency. This is just the main headquarters, and there's a lot more secret headquarters all across the United States. Now tell me, for secret agent purposes, what is your codename?" he asked.

"Agent Blackjack."

"Agent Blackjack, huh? I like that. Has a nice ring to it," he said, gesturing for me to come with him. "Now, come. Let's go get you set up."

I was confused because this wasn't a typical job interview. "Don't you need my resume and reference letters?" I asked.

"Those aren't required, but I'll take them for future reference," the president said. "I can use these when I'm looking for agents to go on dangerous missions."

There was a short silence that cut through the air faster than a hot knife through butter. I panicked on what to say next because I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of the most revered person in the country. One slip-up in words, and I risk losing any future jobs I have the chance at getting in the future. Only if that happens will my world start to crumble down. I don't want that to happen.

"When can I start?" I asked. "I'm available right now if you need me."

The president then beamed with great joy and hope. "I'm glad you asked, Agent. We've got a mission on our hands that I think will establish you as a Statesman."

"What does this entail?"

"You'll be paired with a higher-ranked agent to accomplish this mission. That way, you can learn what being a part of the Statesman Agency is like," the president said.

We arrived at a large conference room that looked as though it was from a movie. With beautiful mahogany walls and low, calming lighting, my feeling of uneasiness and debilitating anxiety went away as fast as they came. Only the president and I were the ones in there, but that changed rather quickly. As I stood frozen in front of the large rectangular table, the president went to the farthest head on the table and pressed a button to project a live, holographic image of a fellow agent. Apparently, he's the agent I would be paired up with for this mission. Keeping true to myself, I crossed my arms across my chest with confidence, showing that I was confident and tough-looking. No, I wasn't trying to intimidate the agent whom I'd be paired with. I was just trying to show this agent that I am a tough, hardworking individual, and that I was ready for whatever came my way.

"We have quite the dangerous mission on our hands, so we paired you up with the highest ranked agent in the Statesman Agency. Right now, he's at the headquarters in Lynchburg. Blackjack, meet Agent Whiskey," the president said, directing me to the live, holographic image.

The agent saluted a two-finger salute at me, to which I acknowledged with a simple nod. I do have to say that it was a pretty damn good holographic call. From what I was seeing, I could tell that Agent Whiskey was definitely the western cowboy type, which apparently is typical for the Statesman Agency. He looked like a refined gentleman, with brown eyes, which were covered by thin, rectangular, gold-rimmed glasses, black hair, and a black mustache just below his nose. He was wearing a black cowboy hat and a black suit and tie, with a pristine white dress shirt to complement it. However, I cannot confirm this appearance because his image had a blue tint. I guess that's typical for a holographic conference call.

"Kid, this mission we're on is a dangerous one. More dangerous than a thousand poisonous snakes waiting to pounce on ya. It's also so complex that the higher-ups won't get all of the information until a couple hours from now. There's a lot of information to take in in regards to this mission," he said coolly yet seriously in a southern accent.

I nodded and allowed Agent Whiskey to continue on because he clearly had more to say. "I suggest that we meet up at a rendezvous point to try and earn each other's trust before going head-on into this dangerous mission. If we're going to be working together, I might as well build a connection with the agent I'll be partnered with. How about, say, we meet up at the local distillery here in Lynchburg. It's a perfect time for you to get adjusted to the headquarters and to get to know how I operate this headquarter office here. What do you say?" he asked.

I nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"I'm sending a ride to come pick you up. It shouldn't take too long. Only twenty minutes should be the wait," Whiskey said, informing me of the new development.

"Great. I shall see you soon. Until soon, Agent Whiskey," I said.

"I'll see you shortly, Agent Blackjack," Whiskey said, signing off.

I acknowledged Whiskey signing off and turned my attention back to the president. "Agent Whiskey is a great agent to learn under. I have faith in you two. If this mission doesn't get accomplished, then the world will be no more. It's up to you two agents to make sure that the world stays intact."

"You can count on us, Mr. President," I confidently declared, saluting him.

"The whole world is counting on you two," the president said confidently.

Not too long after, I ventured out to the exterior of the headquarters, where the driver that Agent Whiskey sent to pick me up patiently waited for me. Seeing me, he immediately made no hesitation to open the back passenger door, enhancing his gentleman qualities. It saved me some hassle of opening the door myself, but it definitely was nice of him to do that. I have to appreciate him for that.

"Thank you so much," I said to him as I slid inside the back seat of the black 2023 Chevy Escapade.

"No problem, Agent Blackjack," said the driver as he made haste in hopping into the driver's seat and driving away.

Whiskey was right. It was only about a twenty-minute drive from the main headquarters to the Statesman Agency headquarters in Lynchburg. My patience paid off throughout that entire ride, but did I really have to exercise that much patience for such a short ride? No. No, I did not. I mainly kept to myself and kept fantasizing about this mission I got roped into with Agent Whiskey. I knew it was considered extremely dangerous, but was it so dangerous that I sacrificed my chance of living a full life? Was it so dangerous that I risked dying? I wasn't old enough, nor was I ready, to join my twin brother in heaven since I hadn't left my mark on the world yet. I have to establish my legacy and live a great life first before even thinking about joining God and my twin brother.

I arrived at the rendezvous point after just a little while. Looking out the window and trying to take in my surroundings, I immediately became shocked at how large and modern this headquarters was. The exterior had a taste of rustic and modern chic, which I found quite appealing to my eyes. It made me wonder what the inside of this facility looked like.

"Thank you," I said to the driver, as he opened the door and allowed me to slide out.

"Of course, Agent Blackjack," the driver responded, shutting the door and pressing a button on his watch. "I alerted Agent Whiskey and told him that you arrived. He should be out to greet you shortly."

"Thank you," I said, thanking the driver graciously.

As the driver drove off, I decided to take action into my own hands and walk inside the facility. Of course, I was scared out of my mind, but I knew that I had to have courage. If I didn't march into that facility with bold pride and confidence strapped onto my shoulders, then I'd be a wuss for the rest of my life. If I didn't march into that facility and decided to turn back, then I wouldn't have come face-to-face with the man I'd be tied to for the rest of my life.

I entered the facility and shut the door behind me, exercising my habit of politeness that I've had ever since I could walk and talk. It wasn't even five seconds after I shut that door when Agent Whiskey appeared in front of me. He was exactly how I thought he'd look if I met him in person; he was a charming, gentleman cowboy whose eyes and smirk brought a sense of warm-

ness to my heart.

"Hello, gorgeous," he coolly said, trying to charm me under his spell. "I'm Jack. What's your name?"

I remained silent, as I quietly tried to suppress my feelings for him. I resisted his urges because there was a bigger mission on our hands that needed to be handled first. I felt that the bigger problem in my work should be handled before I even think about having feelings for someone.

"How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got a six-pack of cold ones in there all nice, and my roomie'll be out all night. So you can scream my name as long as ya need to, sugar," he said loudly, trying to seduce me.

That didn't work for him, now did it? I'm too strong-minded to be seduced easily. Plus, there's a bigger mission on our hands that needs to be dealt with first before I think about having a relationship with anyone.

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, cowboy," I said in a playfully defiant tone, raising my hand and stopping him from getting any closer into my personal bubble.

I guess you can say that he was quite shocked with my reaction. Perhaps he's always used to charming women under his spell right away. Not me, buddy. I'm much more tough-minded like that. You'll have to work for it in order to get me.

"I got a few ground rules for the both of us to follow," I declared. "They're fairly simple to follow, but they're complicated if you break them."

"Run 'em down, sugar. Whatcha got?" he questioned, eagerly awaiting for what these rules were.

"Ground Rule Number One: If we decide that we're going to sleep with each other, then we have to make damn sure that we won't be interrupted. I don't want to have to stop a pleasurable—and hopefully, decently long—experience with something that requires more of my attention. Ground Rule Number Two: If we, at one point during this mission, fall in love with one another, then we have to keep our cover in the public eye. Once we're in private and are damn sure that no one will find out, then we can act on our feelings. Only after the mission is done will we be able to allow our feelings to show, no matter the environment we're in," I explained. "And last but not least, Ground Rule Number Three. Please treat me with some respect. This is my first mission, and I'm just trying to learn the ropes of the Statesman. I can guarantee that I'll treat you with the highest respect, so there's nothing wrong with anything on my end. You treat me right, I'll treat you right. Then, everything will be fine. Any questions?"

"Is Ground Rule Number Three based on how you were raised? Just curious," Whiskey asked, being genuinely curious about the background of my third ground rule.

"Yeah. My momma and daddy raised me well, but I mainly stuck to my daddy. He had some wise words that I generally followed. What can I say? I was always a daddy's girl," I explained to Whiskey, who carefully listened along.

"All right, sugar. I dig that," he said. "Come. Let me show you around the headquarters here. It's a lotta land to cover, lotta land to get used to."

I then followed Whiskey around as he showed me every square inch of the facility, making sure that I know my way around. I mainly kept to myself and actively listened to Whiskey describing to me the different places at this facility, so I could get around relatively easily.

"Come on, sugar. Let me treat ya to a drink," he offered graciously, leading me to a bar where he's able to create several cocktails and alcoholic beverages. "Important question for you, though. Are you the legal age to be drinking legally?"

"Yeah. I just turned twenty-one in August," I confirmed.

He ventured behind the bar and prepared to make up some drinks for the both of us. "Have you started drinking yet?"

"No," I said simply.

"I got ya, sugar. I'll start ya with somethin' easy first. Whatcha thirsting for?" he asked.

I had to think about the answer to that question for quite some time. I hadn't started drinking yet, mainly because I hadn't found the time, and I also followed the laws as a true goody-two-shoes. I was initially afraid of breaking the rules, but since I turned twenty-one, I realized that some of the laws I avoided breaking in my youth did not apply to an adult like me.

"How about some of your finest whiskey?" I suggested.

"You got it," Whiskey said, winking and immediately making up a drink for me.

I sat at the bar, patiently waiting for my drink to appear in front of me. I kept thinking to myself about Whiskey and his undiscovered habits. Was he secretly a bad guy? Was he trying to use me for his dastardly scheme I knew nothing about? He has yet to earn my trust as a person, but as an agent...he's got very little time to do so.

"So, Rocky. A little birdy told me that you're from the Tennessee area," Whiskey said, finishing up the drinks and taking a seat on the barstool next to me.

"I sure am. Born in Nashville, raised in Chattanooga," I confirmed. "Pretty great western life, if I do say so myself."

"And I assume you didn't get into a farm lifestyle," Whiskey asked.

"Nope. Never got into it."

"Kept a pretty quiet life, huh?" Whiskey asked.

"Kept busy with school and my part-time job," I answered. "Wanted to earn my own way through life. Plus, I had a gym membership that I had to pay for."

"Part-time job? What was that, sugar?"

"At the police station in Chattanooga," I answered. "Mainly worked right alongside the officers to learn how to keep the peace and protect the people. Paid great money, though."

"And what's your actual name, then? I kinda told ya mine. Never got to learn yours," Whiskey commented.

"Veronica."

"Veronica," Whiskey repeated. "Nice name. Hadn't heard one like that in a while."

"Don't ya need to know my last name? In order to find out more about me?" I asked in confusion.

"Nah, sugar. I'll find out eventually," Whiskey answered boldly.

A short silence cut through the air, and all that was heard was the sound of me and Whiskey regularly breathing. I struggled with trying to find the next bit of facts about myself so I could push the conversation forward. I figured that by showing Whiskey the tattoos I possessed, then he'd finally see how I stay motivated to keep going.

"You wanna see my tattoos?" I asked him.

"You have tattoos?" he asked in disbelief. "To be honest, I didn't see you as a girl who would get tattoos."

"Only two. They're decently sized. Not full-sleeved."

"Can I see them?" Whiskey asked, seeming very interested in what my tattoos looked like.

"Of course," I answered, hopping off my barstool quickly.

I proceeded to take off my left boot, using my right leg to balance effortlessly. I wanted to show Whiskey the tattoos that are part of my personality, as well personal motivators for me. Every time I look down on them, it's a reminder for me to keep going. The tattoo dedicated to my brother, especially, is a reminder for me to keep pushing forward and to never give up. It's like having my twin brother right there with me.

I kicked my leg up onto the counter, hopping on my right leg to keep my balance. I showed Whiskey my ankle after rolling up my left pant leg, showing off my decent-sized tattoo. It was four cards—all aces, all are the different suits—on top of one another, showing their suit. It was outlined in black ink, which made it have a cartoon look to it; personally, I loved it because it paid homage to my code name: Agent Blackjack.

"That's nice. Looks almost realistic," Whiskey commented. "Why the cards?"

"Pays homage to my codename Blackjack," I added, rolling my pant leg back down. "I have another tattoo, as well."

"Another one? Damn, sugar. You surprise me every day," Whiskey exclaimed. "Where is it?"

"On my right forearm," I replied simply. "This one, though. It hits closest to home for me. It carries an emotional meaning for me."

I then removed my leg from the counter and resumed my position on the barstool next to Whiskey. Thinking about the best way to show my special tattoo, I decided to remove my jacket so I could display my forearm tattoo in its full glory. Whiskey, in my effort to show him the tattoo, seemed extra quiet. Maybe that was because he was being extra patient and taking me in in my full glory.

"See it?" I asked.

"You said it had an emotional meaning behind it. Who's it dedicated to?" Whiskey asked. "Is it a boyfriend or something?"

I chuckled. "God no! Never had a relationship before. I've just been busy with school and work. Paid off because I graduated from both high school and college with honors."

I paused for a moment, trying to gather the strength to talk about this tattoo I dedicated to my deceased twin brother. "It's for my twin brother. See?" I said, showing Whiskey every component of the tattoo.

"Here's his full name, his birthday, his death date, a couple crosses, and a couple baseballs, since he loved baseball. He got a full-ride to the University of Tennessee to play it, too. I was there for every one of his games, supporting him in the stands. Now, I can't do that anymore. Granted, it's only been a year, but it still hurts me."

"What happened to him?" Whiskey asked.

"Well, to put it bluntly, he died. He was murdered by members of a mafia known as the Petronella family. He was twenty years old," I answered somberly, trying to wipe away the tears that were slowly welling in my eyes. "Sorry."

"Sugar, don't be sorry for expressing your emotions. It's a tough experience to handle," Whiskey said. "I'm glad that you're handling it like a soldier."

"Thanks," I said somberly.

I felt sorry for Whiskey. He was listening to my sad sob-story about the meaning behind my forearm tattoo and didn't even ask for it. I barely know Whiskey, and it seems like I'm laying all my cards—no pun intended—on the table. That act is usually reserved for those who are in a solid, romantic relationship, and I'm not sure if I'm even fully ready to be in a relationship. There's a bigger mission on our hands, one that has the fate of the world hanging by a small thread. I want to be able to focus on that first rather than my feelings.

"Come on, sugar. We got the mission briefing," Whiskey said, helping me down off the barstool by grabbing my hand.

I followed Whiskey to the wooden wall closest to us. It was the wall that we faced when we sat down at the counter. As Whiskey moved to the shelf, I became confused. How the hell does he suppose we get through the wall?

"How the hell do you suppose we're getting through?" I asked Whiskey.

"Simple, sugar," Whiskey confidently answered. "There's a camera at the top of this wall. All you gotta do is stare at it for five seconds, and it'll do a face recognition and ring you in."

Whiskey stared into the camera's soul for about five seconds, allowing it to see his eyes and facial features clearly. The camera, recognizing Whiskey's face almost immediately, apparently approved of his appearance.

"Welcome, Agent Whiskey," the camera's voice said out loud in an almost monotone voice.

"See?" Whiskey said. "I'm sorry. I might not have you into the system yet. I'll have to program you in whenever I get the chance."

I remained silent as Whiskey and I ventured into a secret conference room, with the intention of getting all the information we needed for the mission briefing. Being the determined person that I was, I wanted to get all of the information I could in order to get this mission done as soon as possible. This extremely dangerous mission had the fate of the world in the balance, and if I mess up, then everything goes to shit. I don't want that. That's not going to happen on my watch.

I watched as Whiskey pressed a button, and the president came online in a holographic video call. It was like Whiskey was when I first met him. The secret room, in observation, looked very modern and high-tech, making me think that I was in an actual movie. It felt weird, but I had to suppress these feelings. I had to deal with a bigger mission on our hands.

"Here we are, sugar," Whiskey said. "Our secret conference room."

I took a few moments to stay silent and take in my surroundings. "I guess this is where we get all of our mission briefings."

"Mostly," Whiskey answered. "Whenever we're here at this headquarters, this room is where we get our missions. It gives us agents a sense of security that no rats or spies from enemy lines are gonna find out about our plans to ruin them. You get what I'm saying?"

"I sure do."

Agent Whiskey and I turned our attention to the president, waiting for the mission briefing. I knew that this mission would be dangerous, but how dangerous was this mission in de-

tail? How much risk will I have to put up with when I go through with this mission? Of course, I intend on going through with this mission. There ain't no turnin' back for me. I intend on staying with this as long as I'm needed, and I'm keeping to my word. I'm a woman of my word. Agent Whiskey can count on me for that.

The president then started on his mission briefing, as I crossed my arms across my chest and paid attention to all the information Whiskey and I were being given.

"Here it is, agents. There's a new terrorist empire that has risen in prominence again. There are many divisions of this empire, all of which are based on different crimes. One division, the Hellhound Corps, is the division that poses the biggest threat. They're the reason behind several deaths and terrorist attacks so far, and they don't plan on stopping there. Nipping this threat in the butt will most undoubtedly help us neutralize future threats to our country and the world. Their latest threat, however, is endangering the entire world. This organization is threatening to destroy the entire world with a weapon in order to achieve their ultimate goal of world domination and genocide on the global level. Your goal, agents, is to destroy this weapon and take down the Hellhound Corps. Good luck."

The president signed off from the call, leaving me and Whiskey to decide how to successfully accomplish this mission. What was the first step? How are we going to successfully take down this insolent jackass trying to take the world down? It was a difficult process to comb through, and with one wrong move...our entire plan, everything we fought for, goes to shit. I don't want to be the reason the world dies. I wouldn't be able to live with myself after that.

"So what's the first step?" Whiskey asked.

I covered my hand with my mouth to try and think of a logical first approach. The silence was deafening between Whiskey and I, making the atmosphere all the more awkward. This killed me. The whole point of me being paired up with Agent Whiskey on this mission was to learn the ropes of the Statesman Agency and make a future connection to him as a mentor and close friend, and staying silent as I thought up a logical approach to a dangerous mission definitely contradicts to what I've been trying to do.

"If we're going to take down one dangerous division out of several in a crime empire, I think we go straight at the leader. Take him down, then it's a domino effect from there. He goes down, everything and everyone else that were associated with him goes down as well."

"That's awfully risky, sugar," Whiskey commented.

"I know," I added, "but it seems logical. We find the leader, we take him down first. Going at the head of an empire is always dangerous, but if we take him down, anything below him goes down after him. You have to take risks in life, no matter if they're dangerous or not, and if we don't go after this guy, then...we might as well kiss our asses goodbye because they're making it sound like he's extremely dangerous."

"We have to be damn sure, sugar, that what we're doing is the right choice for us in this mission. Remember, the fate of the world is in our hands. One slip-up, and we might as well dig our own graves," Whiskey said.

"Don't remind me," I said to him, rubbing the front of my head. "I think—I think it's the right choice. It's risky and dangerous, but it's the most logical."

Whiskey ultimately agreed on the decision to go straight at the leader, but deep down, I knew he had hesitations with it. He probably thought that I was a psychopath with the way I wanted to go straight at the leader. "We have to find him out almost immediately, though. Who knows if and when he'll run again."

After debating it for only a short bit, I then got an idea. What if I can find his profile on the internet? Surely, a terrorist responsible for multiple attacks and deaths has to be somewhere on the news and all over the internet. "I mean, I may or may not be able to hack into the government's secret database that has tabs on the world's most wanted criminals."

"You're good at that?" Whiskey asked.

"Course I am! I'm good at that type of shit," I said boldly. "Where's the closest and most powerful computer?"

"This way," Whiskey said, showing me a whole computer room where its purpose is for secret intelligence and spying on the federal government level.

Once I entered the room, I immediately got onto the closest computer I saw and started frantically and intensely hacking into the secret government database. I was like a cheetah on speed, going as fast as I could to get into the database as quickly as possible. The quicker I got in there and found information on the leader, the quicker Whiskey and I could nab him. As I continued to scour, I noticed Whiskey started pacing back and forth in front of the giant screen at the front of the room while talking on the phone with the president. My gut instinct told me that he was anxious about getting the information needed, but once again, I had to have the power to suppress it. There were bigger problems that had to be handled first.

"If he's plannin' to go on the run, then we have to be able to track him. Mr. President, it's gonna take us some time to find him. We need his name and stuff. That's gonna take some time when we go through the endless database of wanted criminals," Whiskey said.

I clicked the enter key on the keyboard in heroic fashion. "Done!"

Whiskey whipped around to face me, who was beaming with pride. I had just managed to hack into a top-secret government database with ease, so I was rightfully proud of this accomplishment, despite the action possibly being considered a crime. But at this point, I didn't care. Whiskey and I were facing a bigger problem. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and in this case, it was committing a crime to get information on a bigger threat.

"You got it?" Whiskey asked, finishing his call with the president.

"Yep," I said, as Whiskey looked over my shoulder with intent.

That's when I started on giving the rundown of the threat Whiskey and I were facing. "His name is Balor Devlin. He's thirty-seven years old and was born in Monroe, Louisiana, one of the most dangerous cities in America. Mom was Hispanic, Dad was Irish. However, he looks more like Italy and Spain had a baby. He doesn't exhibit any Irish qualities at all, other than his last name. Both of his parents are deceased, and so are his nine other siblings. Two older brothers, seven younger siblings. Not sure how many total brothers and sisters he has, since they have such fucked-up names, but I do know that he had a lot."

"How did his parents and siblings die?" Whiskey asked.

"Not sure. Government prolly wants to keep that under wraps. I'll find that out eventually. Don't you worry."

I continued looking at the information the database provided. "Looks like he also has a big influence in The Secret Ring, another division within the Rings of Hellfire. That's the empire the government is concerned with. However, we're most concerned with the Hellhound Corps, the most dangerous division out of all of them."

"The Secret Ring?" Whiskey asked.

"Yeah. That's the empire's drug division. It deals with all crimes that are drug-related. They sell, consume, make, and ship all types of drugs to all types of places. Looks like their only purpose of existing is to serve as a distraction to what Balor is actually doing behind the scenes," I added.

"Lordie! He's a bad one, ain't he, sugar?' Whiskey exclaimed.

"He sure is," I sighed. "What's the next step?"

"Well, we don't know where he is, sugar. Going after him right now will be like going into a wild goose chase with no goose to chase. It's a lost cause, and we can't afford lost causes right now, sugar," Whiskey said.

"So we have to track his location somehow," I assumed, getting a rough idea of how we can manage to tag this terrorist's location. "If these drug shipments are shipped to almost everywhere across the world, that will most likely include Balor's main headquarters. What if we manage to tag one of those drug shipments that are going directly to him? That way, we can get his confirmed location, which makes it easier for us to nip him right then and there."

"Yeah, sugar. That sounds like a good idea. But where is this drug shipment line?" Whiskey asked.

I then went back to the computer and pulled up a map that showed the drug shipment lines that The Secret Ring had. It was a map of the United States that showed the different road routes for drug shipping by this drug division. Bright white dots were scattered all over the map, which made me think that they were shipping hubs.

"These lines? These are all the shipping routes that the division has in the United States. They cover every single state. Might as well be almost every square inch of every state. Look how much these routes cover," I explained.

"What are all these dots?" Whiskey asked.

"These are shipping hubs. The main ones are near the big cities, but there are others scattered all over the place," I explained, pointing to some of the dots. "See? Some of them are located not too far from major cities. Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, DC...you get the idea."

Whiskey pondered for just a bit, trying to find out what words he would say next. He had to think of our next set of action steps in our plan. It was a tedious process to comb through. A dangerous one, indeed. He had to think of an action that would be the best to push this crusade forward, since I don't have enough experience to even logically establish plans.

"What do you think our next plan is?"

"You're asking me that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah, sugar. The whole point of you being on this mission is to establish yourself as a Statesman Agent. Gotta get your input once in a while," Whiskey answered with reassurance slipping from his tongue.

I inhaled sharply and prepared myself to give an opinion on the next action phase. "If we're gonna find this guy, we have to confirm his location. If we go and tag some shipments that are going directly to Balor, that's our best bet in finding him."

"And while we're at it, we can raid and take down a hub," Whiskey said.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "The problem is...which hub should we shake down?"

"The one in Kentucky seems the most logical," Whiskey suggested.

I looked back over my shoulder to look at him straight in his eyes. "You talkin' 'bout the one in Harlan? Just outside of Middlesboro?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am," Whiskey confirmed. "Close to my home roots, and it's a hub close to the Tennessee border."

"Perfect for them, I guess. You can smuggle drugs very easily over state lines nowadays, unfortunately," I said. "Raiding that hub disrupts the route that runs to Tennessee and any other border states in Kentucky."

I nodded my head. It was a very well thought-up plan by Whiskey, not gonna lie, and I was willing to follow up with that plan. It seemed like the most logical. "So we're going to Harlan to raid a drug shipping hub?"

"We sure are," Whiskey confirmed, giving me his hand. "Come on, sugar. Can't waste no time, can we?"

"Are we gonna suit up with weapons? Maybe I can change?" I asked.

"Of course, sugar. I got some weapons in my hoop-ty," Whiskey replied.

"Might I suggest driving to Chattanooga, so I can quickly stop at my parents' place and snatch up some of my clothes?" I asked.

"Sure. We can do that," Whiskey answered.

"You can be my getaway driver. I'll only be about five minutes," I said.

"Sugar! It's fine. Sure, it's about an hour-and-a-half away, but it's not a problem for me. I got you!" Whiskey reassured.

I was shocked by Whiskey willing to do that for me. Driving an hour-and-a-half to my hometown, just to turn around and get to Harlan is quite the haul. For Whiskey to do that, it shows how much he cares.

"Now, come on, sugar. We gotta refuel and hit the road. A little birdy is telling me that the hub is about five hours out from the hub in Harlan," Whiskey said. "Gotta get movin' if we're gonna slow down the shipping right away."

Whiskey and I packed up the essential resources needed and ventured off to my hometown of Chattanooga. Of course, I was designated to be the passenger princess, despite my constant attempts to persuade Whiskey to let me drive. I didn't mind being the passenger princess, but it would be nice to drive around once in a while. Maybe I'll do just that on the mission. Do I care that I'm taking the reins, even though the higher-ranked Agent Whiskey should?

Absolutely not!

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I fully intend to do anything humanly possible to prove myself as a well-established Statesman agent. At least Whiskey might appreciate that I'm taking action as an independent individual.

We drove along the road for about ten minutes to visit a gas station and refuel Whiskey's "hoop-ty" before the long trip to Chattanooga, then Harlan, Kentucky. We might have to refuel once or twice during the trip, but lucky for us, gas prices are low as hell at this time. Then again, it all depends on where you go, and as far as I know, the Tennessee gas average is about a dollar-twenty-five, if we're lucky. It might not be a big deal now, but it is considered expensive over a long period of time.

Whiskey refueled his ride at a gas station about twenty miles outside of the agency, and I sat in the passenger seat, keeping to my "passenger princess" title in an adamant manner. With my sunglasses on, I basked in the warm Tennessee light as it showed from high above. After filling up his ride on gas, Whiskey jumped into the truck and started it up.

"Before we go any further, sugar, take a look in the glove box," he said.

I opened up the glove box to find a small, black, high-tech earpiece, and I examined it carefully out of fear that I'd break it. "What's this?" I asked.

"It's an earpiece. It allows you to communicate with me, and I can communicate with you. Those who are manning the computers back home also have the ability to talk to you," Whiskey explained.

"So it's like a Bluetooth earpiece?"

"More or less," Whiskey answered simply. "Keep it in your ear. It's very important. Otherwise, who knows what could happen."

"Every wrong thing, I guess," I answered. "We don't want that to happen while we're on this mission."

"Exactly," Whiskey said. "No room to make a mistake while on this mission. It's too high-risk and dangerous. One fuck-up, and we might just bite the dust."

After what seemed like an eternity of traveling, Whiskey and I had finally arrived safely to Chattanooga, specifically in the suburbs where I lived. As we passed the "Welcome to Chattanooga" sign, I couldn't help but develop a new feeling of guilt and anxiety. No, I wasn't guilty about coming back here to grab a few resources, but I did feel guilty when I remembered that horrid night of when my twin brother was murdered. I felt like I could've done something to prevent it.

Maybe if I responded to the commotion sooner, then my brother might be alive today. I'll never get rid of that guilt that's been residing in the depths of my heart for the longest time, but I just might keep it under control if I had someone who helped me suppress it...and so far, the one I trust with that high duty the most is Agent Whiskey.

He pulled up along the curb that was in front of my house and parked, waiting patiently for me to do what I needed to do and get out.

"I won't be long. I promise," I said.

"Take your time, sugar," Whiskey responded. "Make damn sure you have everything 'cause we ain't turnin' back."

"Trust me. I will," I said, slamming the door shut and dashing up to the house.

I got out our "emergency key" from underneath the doormat and let myself into the house. My parents and siblings weren't home at the time, but they said that I could enter whenever I wanted; I just had to make sure I knew where the emergency key was and put it back once I was done with it. Continuing on to my room upstairs, I only was able to catch small glimpses of the rest of the house, remembering the memories that happened here in the past.

Still, that persistent feeling of guilt and shame riddled me, but I didn't let it break me down then and there.

Going into my room, I took one quick glance around, trying so damn hard to fight off the guilt that had the great power of making me emotionally vulnerable. I marched toward my closet, where I kept one of my most prized possessions that I received as a gift on my twenty-first birthday. A gift that was presented to me by my father, who knew very much that I always wanted such a gift. Desperately needing this gift for the mission, I grabbed it tightly within my hand, being careful that I don't use it to hurt anyone, including myself. I also grabbed clothes to change into, some food, and some other essentials—including cash—that were necessary to survive on this mission.

Trust me. It's better if I have more resources to stay prepared rather than less.

Once I got all of my resources, I got out of the house, making sure that the mess I left behind was carefully cleaned up. I locked the door calmly and then made a mad dash out to Whiskey's hoop-ty with my prized possession in tow. I could tell by Whiskey's terrified look that he was afraid that I'd hurt him. I knew how to handle my prized possession very well—my very own sniper rifle—and knew that I needed to be careful in order to keep myself and everyone around me safe.

"Whoa there, sugar. Please tell me that thing ain't loaded," he shouted.

I gave him a stupid look. "Does it look like it's loaded? Trust me, Whiskey. I ain't that stupid to run with a loaded gun unless I was in pursuit of a criminal."

"Well, okay then," he said, starting up the truck again. "Toss it in the back, and then, we'll hit the road again."

Like he said, I carefully set my sniper rifle and large bags in the back of the vehicle and hopped into the passenger seat. Whiskey hit the road again as he put the car in drive, while I finished fastening my seatbelt. From that point on, I sat prettily in the seat, once again embracing the "passenger princess" title that I'll hold onto so dearly.

#agent whiskey #creative writing #pedro pascal #writers on tumblr #pedro pascal fanfiction #writerscommunity #fanfiction

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indigoh4ze · 3 years

Text

use your words || t.n & d.m

warning- SMUT // face riding, blowjobs, mommy kink, d/s dynamic, a lot of praise, lmk what else

sub!draco x dom!theo x switch!fem!reader

a/n- i've never wrote for theo but this idea came to mind cuz i've been seeing alot of him sooo here it is! enjoy and send in some theo requests if you have any. also i tagged my draco taglist for now since i only just added theo

taglist | << add yourself to the theo taglist | turn on notifs on @slvt4fakerealities-library to be notified when i post

looking to your right, draco’s feet were draped over the arm of the couch, his head on your lap like your thighs were his own personal cushions.

theo, who sat on the left, was playing with the strings of his joggers mindlessly, and your head laid limp against his shoulder, fingers raking through the blond hair on your lap.

draco was beginning to get whiny, squirming as he turned to nose at your thighs, almost hitting your crotch- causing you to tense mildly and inhale sharply.

“dray, y’alright?” you questioned with a knowing gaze, coaxing him to look at you, which he did, though a pout was drawn onto his lips.

“wanna go t’bed, mommy,” theo now put his attention on draco, cocking his head and scanning his eyes over the boys state, a mess with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

you looked over at theo for permission, wasting no time in bringing draco to his feet with the gentle touch of your hand on his bicep. once you all made your way over to draco’s private dorm, theo guided the both of you to the unmade bed.

draco immediately found shelter by your side, nuzzling into your neck and leaving wet kisses along your jawline, pulling quiet and breathy moans from your throat.

“how about you tell mommy what you want, dray, use your words like a good boy,” theo gently purred, now squatted in front of draco, two hands placed soundly on the boys knees, the pad of his thumb soothing circles.

draco seemed to hesitate, awfully flushed in this headspace, distracted by the intense whirling in his core. “w-wanna feel good,” he mumbled, though he was nudging so close to you that his words came out muffled.

it took theos strong grip on his jaw to steer him away from you, and you placed a hand on his thigh to relax his nerves. “c’mon now, be a good boy and then we can help you, alright?”

nodding, draco slowly parted his lips, “want you to touch me, please?”

“with what, baby?” now it was your turn to question, and draco looked up at you, gulping.

“dunno, mommy.”

but it was evident he did know, because he looked down and bit his lip, feeling even more nervous as all the eye were on him.

so you ran tender fingers through his hair and placed a kiss on his cheek, bringing him to lay back. the boy followed without question, then scrambled to meet your requests of discarding his shirt.

theo stood, doing the same and then moving onto his buckle, the metal clacking together and filling both you and draco with suspense of what’s to come.

“doll, wanna be a good girl and get on your knees?” theo insisted, and you practically fell to the floor, urgently doing as he asked, in return gaining a proud smile from the boy.

the brunet walked over, stroking a piece of hair behind your ears and then looking back at draco, who was sat up on his elbows and awaiting attention. “dray, how about you ask nicely, and y/n/n will make you feel really good?”

“p-please, wanna feel your mouth around my cock, waited all day f’you, please?” draco hastily blurted, a glimmer of lust molded into his gray eyes.

“good boy,” with the praise, draco’s heart swelled, and theo leaned down, tilting the boys chin up and placing a lingering kiss on his lips. draco melted into the kiss, desperately using his tongue and making theo grin slightly into the kiss before moving away.

you were simply watching from your knees, a pout constructing its way onto your lips at the lack of attention. as if reading your mind, theo spoke, “go on, bunny, suck him off like a good girl and then i’ll make that little ache in your tummy go away, how does that sound?” his soft spoken words and vibrant visage had you nodding eagerly. as a reward for your obedience, theo mirrored his previous actions, leaving a kiss on your lips and pecking them once more for extra effect.

theo aides draco in taking off his undergarments, and now it was your turn to comply to theos requests, signaling draco to move closer to the edge of the bed so you could get the perfect angle of his cock from your kneeled position. he was gripping the silk sheets with a strong hand, watching the way you took his cock in your hand and began to set a rhythm around it. your simple actions drew soft whimpers from the boy, and theo watched from where he was leaning against the wall, cock straining against the material of his boxers.

“does that feel good, dray?” you inquired, and draco nodded quickly.

“words, dray,” theo reminded the boy from the side.

“y-yeah, feels really g-good mommy,” his sentence ended with a yelp as you brought the tip of his cock between your lips, the warm muscle stroking it before fully submerging it inside the warmth of your mouth.

draco released a lewd moan, and in the corner of your eye you saw the licentious smirk drawn on theos lips, which had your cunt throbbing through your panties even more. the boy in front of you had his eyes closed, though he couldn’t keep them shut for long as he wanted to watch how well you took him.

pre-cum dribbled from his tip, and you gagged lightly around him as theo padded over to assist you - holding back your hair in a makeshift pony tail and guiding your head so his cock slid gingerly through your swollen lips. a few bucks of his hips was all it took for him to become a moaning mess, whines spilling freely off his tongue with less shame, eyes unable to keep off the sight of theos lips attaching themselves to the flesh behind your ear every now and then.

soon, draco was emptying inside your mouth, cock driving into you one last time before he dissolved into pleasure. you dragged the climax out as long as you could before gasping for air, licking your lips and lulling your tongue out for theo to show him you swallowed everything.

theo gave you a pleased smile and an affectionate kiss on your temple before standing to sit by draco. “feelin’ better?” theo queried with a lopsided grin.

“much,” draco nodded, kissing theos cheek and then looking down at you. “thank you, mommy.”

“of course, love,” you were standing now, giving the silver haired boy a kiss and then looking at theo expectantly.

“i want you to ride my face now, angel, sound good?”

“yes please.” you said with eager eyes.

“good,” theo breathily chuckled, “and draco, you’re gonna be a good boy and suck me off, yeah?”

once draco had responded with just as much eagerness- enthusiastic at any chance to pleasure his boyfriend- it had begun.

theo’s on his back, your flimsy panties discarded along with your shirt, and draco between theos legs and in front of his now exposed cock. slight hesitation came over you before you managed to maneuver yourself above theo’s face. the heat of his breath fanned against your cunt and you shivered from that alone, non stop blood rushing through your body.

finally, theo’s lips connected with your folds, already soaked from your arousal. his tongue worked deliciously against them, opening your lips and gaining access to your bundle of nerves, suctioning the nub with fervor. draco began his ministrations on theo’s cock, which had the brunet groaning into your pussy.

moans were pouring out of your mouth, fingers intertwining with the strings of hair at theo’s scalp, your free hand gripping the top of the bed frame as you slightly rolled your hips against his mouth. draco was speeding up, which meant theo was gaining more and more pleasure, resulting in you shivering from the stimulation.

“fuck— theo, right there!” you gasped as his tongue flicked the perfect spot repeatedly, swirling and sucking as wet noises echoed throughout the room, along with other sounds of groans and moans.

lifting your hips from theo’s grasp for a second, the boy peered up at you through half lidded eyes, rosy cheeks and disheveled hair making your thighs quiver. “c’mon, love, ‘m not finished tasting your sweet pussy,” he rasped, digging his fingertips into the fat of your ass before pulling you back towards him, this time not letting you escape his clutch.

theo’s tongue worked rapidly against your cunt, eventually sheathing it into your fluttering walls, and drawing a lewd whimper from the pit of your chest, “i’m coming— theo fuck, fuck please,” you were begging and blabbering as arousal dripped from your cunt and smeared itself around theo’s mouth. your orgasm took over, your body going limp as you held onto the headboard firmly and threw your head back in ecstasy.

just as you did so, draco swirled his skillful tongue around theo’s length, taking all of him and getting theo to his peak. his moans into your overworked cunt were heaven and hell, sensitivity and pleasure swirling within you as you panted above him.

eventually removing your cunt from his mouth, you sat on his bare stomach, soaking the outline of his abs with your slick, your lips puffy and achy against him.

draco lift his head up, kissing your hip from behind and then sitting up fully. theo released a sigh before sitting up, grabbing your by your underarms and pulling you down into a sloppy kiss- the taste of your juices still on his tongue- then settled you onto his chest. he outstretched an arm for draco to join- the boy crawling towards you and snuggling close to theo’s chest as well, your faces turned towards eachother.

you looked up at theo, dotting a kiss near his chin and doing the same to draco’s forehead, then settling back onto the boys comforting warmth and allowing your eyes to flutter shut from exhaustion. the last thought that went through your head before sleep fully overtook you was,

i’ll worry about the mess later.

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kpopmakesmeweep · 4 years

Text

badboy!yeonjun x innocent!reader

word count: 21k

angst, fluff, smut

when your teacher asked you to tutor in the beginning of the school year, you were hesitant even then.

you knew that it meant your lunch period and one study hall for the day were gonna be completely booked, helping younger kids grasp the basic idea that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell.

but then you met one young girl desperate to pass her first test in october and knew your teacher had gotten you, sending a small, defeated smile her way as you gave her the okay to put your name on the list.

you didn’t expect to come back from winter break with the news that the next student you’d be tutoring wasn’t a sweet 7th grade girl but none other than choi yeonjun.

the overwhelmingly attractive but horribly intimidating boy who was a year older than you and had, quite possibly, one of the worst reputations the school has ever seen.

if he wasn’t getting suspended for fighting or smoking on school grounds, you’d attempt to block out the mindless gossip about him and all the college girls he’d frequently fraternize with.

he was in your lunch period when you were a sophomore and he was a junior and you couldn’t help but be fascinated by how handsome he was. how he carried himself and how everyone else seemed to be fascinated by him too.

he was always wearing some variation of black, like his closet was just an empty void of black leather, dark cotton and chains. if he didn’t have on a beanie or hat, his then blue hair was a mess of waves that always made you look a few seconds too long.

you’ll never forget the day that he caught you, your nose in a textbook as you studied for a midterm before a loud shout of his name caught your attention.

you looked up and watched one of his friends playfully punch him in the arm, something about him hooking up with the older girl he had his eye on first and yeonjun only smirking at him devilishly.

he didn’t look apologetic or regretful in the slightest, more so like he’d do again just because he could and just because he knew the girl would be eager to have another go with him.

your breath caught in your throat when his deep brown eyes met yours, his head cocked as he held your gaze with all the confidence and smugness you could never have.

it took his lips quirking into a cocky smile for you to snap out of it, cheeks warming and stomach churning at getting caught before you dropped your gaze right back down to your book.

it was a quick and thorough reminder that this is where you feel comfortable and this is where you belong - with your nose in a book and your mind on your studies.

you’ve always intended to just get through high school with good grades and minimal distractions, a small (almost non-existent) friend group that left you able to make straight a’s and work a small, part-time job.

you’d done a pretty good job of that thus far, no bad boys covered in all black and sliver chains to show you that, maybe, getting out of your comfort zone isn’t such a bad thing after all.

you met yeonjun during your 7th period study hall a week later than intended, him not showing up to either of the periods your teacher informed you both last week.

you weren’t surprised in the slightest but also wouldn’t dare tattle on him, simply dodging the questions from your teacher or giving her a polite smile and cryptic answer.

but you couldn’t even stop the way your eyes widened when the library door opened and he was making his way toward you, black beanie placed on his head along with a dark shirt tight across his chest paired with gray sweatpants that made you bite down on your lip.

his hair was pink now, long with a slight wave to it that looked all too soft and inviting to touch; the color probably shouldn’t work on anyone but, of course, it works on him.

devastatingly attractive in a way that doesn’t seem fair nor human.

he hasn’t said a word to you, he wasn’t even within six feet of you yet, but you were already scared shitless. you already didn’t trust yourself to be around him and not make a bumbling fool of yourself.

a pretty smirk crossed his face when he stood in front of you, looking down at you with a playful look in his eye that was far too mocking and sinister.

“hey. y/n, right?”

you never would’ve pictured this man saying (or even knowing) your name, nor him looking at you so willingly and intensely, but you have to quickly snap yourself out of it.

this was as professional a relationship could be between two students and you really had to get it together.

“hi, yes... that’s me,” you say softly.

so softly that you’re not even sure he can hear it but you can, unfortunately, hear the tremor in your own voice and it’s nothing but absolute embarrassment.

he happens to like it though, if the way his eyes light up and his smirk widens tells you anything.

“i’m yeonjun.”

“i know.”

you say the statement far too quickly and it causes your face to warm, your mouth hanging open as the amusement continues to build behind his eyes; you can see with your own that the boy is too handsome for his own good but something tells you he’s probably far too charming as well.

“i mean... we were supposed to meet last week,” you attempt to clarify.

it seems like a good save, something to make, both, your embarrassment lessen slightly and for him to know you’re aware that he missed the two sessions last week.

but it doesn’t seem to work, the boy sitting down across from you with all the confidence and smoothness in the world. he leans in closer and you hold your breath, horribly lonely and touch-starved heart fluttering in your chest.

“i know, sorry about that,” he says, a genuineness in his voice that you can’t help but question. “i was busy with some things.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, not even wanting to think about what kind of things keeps a man like him busy.

your teeth sinks into your bottom lip nervously and you can just feel his eyes burning into you, moving across your pink face and down to your soft white sweater; it makes you look every bit as innocent as he’s presumed you to be and he can’t say it doesn’t make him smile.

“and yet, the teacher didn’t say anything to me about missing.”

you meet his eyes at his questioning tone, so scrutinizing and intense that you feel very grateful about your decision not to blow up his spot; you don’t even wanna know what he looks like when he’s angry.

or maybe you do, some darker and suppressed part of yourself thinks.

“that’s because i didn’t tell her,” you say quietly, a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying desperately to push down. “i didn’t wanna....”

you almost say tattle and you think your face wold turn an unnatural shade of red if that silly word left your mouth in front of him.

so you meekly and sweetly decide on, “i didn’t wanna get you in trouble,” a smile gracing his face that almost makes you feel like you’d done a good job or something.

and how ridiculous does that sound? you did a good job for the older, delinquent boy - you don’t know what’s gotten into you.

maybe his smile and his eyes and just the way he’s looking at you is making you feel as if you’re actually something to look at - you’ve never really been observed the way he’s observing you.

a deep, melodic chuckle leaving his mouth causes you to swallow nervously, watching him with a blank expression because you’re not sure if he’s laughing at you or with you.

your heart stutters when he leans back to stretch, his arm squeezing at the back of his neck; it takes everything in you not to watch his arm flex.

“how’d i know you were a good girl, hm?”

your eyes widen at his words, stomach swooping in a way that’s only ever happened when you watch couples on tv or read about a romance in books.

because it’s not only his words, it’s the way he carries himself. the way he’s looking at you and speaking to you, the way you never thought anyone would - let alone him.

he must mistake your utter...shock and fascination for confusion, eyes wide and cheeks flushed and he suddenly wants to place his hand on your cheek.

see if it’s as warm and soft as it appears to be in this very moment.

“you were in my lunch last year, no?” he hums, looking directly at you with zero ounce of fear and ever bit of confidence. “always with a textbook or writing something.”

he doesn’t remember all the girls that gawk at him but he remembered you immediately.

caught your gaze early last year and saw something flicker in your eyes, a soft and innocent fascination he wasn’t used to seeing but immediately made him wanna ruin you - he wanted to ruin you and he didn’t even know you.

he just knew that he’d watch you sometimes, discreetly and quickly, but enough to get his fix.

when he entered the cafeteria and made sure you were sitting there with your your face buried in a book.

when you’d get up to buy lunch or a bottle of water, pull down your skirt or adjust your hair in a way that made him wanna touch you in a similar fashion.

when you’d leave five minutes early (in what he fantasized was so you wouldn’t be late) and send him one last glance. feel your soft, hesitant gaze on his face and meet it carelessly at the very last second.

just enough to watch you get shy and see the blush so similar to now cross your cheeks.

he didn’t know your name and he, truthfully, never intended on learning it. because as much as he wanted to truly ruin you, he knew that’s all it was - a dark, twisted fantasy that someone like him shouldn’t act on.

but then when he walked in and saw you here, the tutor he was dreading to meet in such a familiar position, he knew immediately that you were her.

the cute girl from his lunch he wasn’t sure was an angel he wanted to protect or someone he wanted to fuck the shit out of.

you weren’t sure what to think right now, not wanting to get your hopes up or think too much into his question - you were in my lunch last year, no?

think that you were special and he remembers you for reasons far too fantastical so you only nod, figuring he could be taking a guess; there’s only three lunch periods after all.

“yeah. your hair was blue.”

a smirk crosses his face, chest warming at the fact you remembered him (even though the cocky, confident part inside of him knew you would).

“yes it was,” he confirms, smiling down at you in a way that makes your heart jump and pound even more. ”i was hoping you’d remember. because i knew i recognized you from somewhere.”

you don’t know how you’re gonna do this. you can barely look at him, how are you supposed to talk to him and teach him twice a week and actually-

“i do wanna ask you something else though.”

your eyebrows pull together at the slight change in his voice, cocking your head to the side as you look at him.

he’s leaning in a little closer now, tiny pink strands hanging from his beanie as his brown eyes bore into yours. there’s still some amusement twinged in his eyes but it all looks very deceptive, unnerving a part of you that your stupid little heart is ignoring.

he doesn’t allow you to ask him what before he starts talking again.

“how about we keep these sessions the way they’ve been?”

your eyebrow raises as confusion continues to plague you; your sessions haven’t even started?

you haven’t even taught him anything, what could he possibly- but it’s the moment he opens his mouth to speak again, you realize that’s exactly the point.

“you tell the teacher i’m coming to these and i’ll tell her what a good job you’re doing. how much i’m learning from you and shit.”

a smirk crosses his face when he peers into your eyes, catching the nervous, unsure look in them that only makes his smirk widen - you really are too cute.

you, on the other hand, don’t know how you feel about his suggestion; you just know how you feel about lying.

it doesn’t sit well with you and you don’t wanna get in trouble.

the teacher has a class during this period so it’s not like she’d come down and check but it still makes you incredibly queasy.

and if he needed tutoring in the first place, he obviously needs help. he’s a senior and needs to keep his grades up so he can graduate. it’d be your fault if he didn’t pass and you’d hate to be the reason he gets-

movement in front of you causes your thoughts to immediately stop, body freezing as you watch him lift his arm and bring his hand to your head.

he moves a strand of hair from your face before smoothing out the slight crease in your forehead, biting down on his lip when he feels your skin is just as soft and smooth as he suspected.

“what are you thinking so hard about?”

the deep, low tone of his voice and inquisitive look on his face is dangerous, almost as dangerous as the frantic beating of your heart and the way it’s about to pound out of your chest.

it’s like he has electric sparks shooting from his hand, making you feel extremely exposed and vulnerable even though his touch is quite gentle and innocent.

“i.... it’s just....” you stutter out, taking a deep breath because you know you need to get it together fast. “you’ve been having trouble, right? that’s... why you needed tutoring in the first place.”

his eyebrow quirks up at your comment and for a split second, you think you’ve offended him.

“i don’t want you to fail, yeonjun.”

he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on your words, realize that no one has so openly and sweetly said that to him before. or even cared enough to tell him that they don’t want him to fail.

he knows the teachers and counselors get him help because it’s their job.

he knows his parents bitch and complain about it because they don’t want him repeating high school or wasting their money.

he knows anyone who says anything to him about it is just doing it to make themselves look like a good person or friend.

but you just so openly and sweetly said it, a deep concern in your eyes that he knows he can’t dwell on or his similar feelings are gonna arise from last year’s lunch.

where he’s about to throw caution to the wind and do anything and everything he wants to someone as innocent and sweet as you; but he can’t do that and he knows it, he knows that’s why these session can’t happen - on top of the fact that it’s not only you.

he smokes during lunch and into this period.

and there’s just no fucking way he’s spending that time suppressing his predatory attraction to you while learning about shit he doesn’t understand and being high as a kite.

“you don’t gotta worry about me, angel,” he hums lowly, the name falling so naturally and smoothly from his mouth, he doesn’t even realize. “just do that for me, yeah? then you’ll have 7th free.”

you don’t hear much after he calls you angel, just that he’s asking you to do something for him and you’re blindly and dumbly nodding because he just called you that.

and it’s not until he smiles and thanks you deeply, looking over your face once more before saying that he’ll see you around that you realize you’re alone.

sitting there as you watch yeonjun walk out the door without a glance back and come to terms with the fact you just agreed to lie to your teacher for him.

for almost a month, you were able to keep it up.

it was terrifying and debilitating and it almost sent you into a full blown identity crisis, but you’d somehow managed to do it.

that was until this afternoon, when your teacher cut through the cafeteria during lunch with a cup of coffee in hand and suspicion in the pit of her stomach.

she saw you sitting there alone, your own books sprawled out around you as you wrote down notes before her short call of your name had your head snapping up.

her eyes watching you quizzically made your own widen, stomach sinking and heart starting to pound as he she made her way over to you.

“hi, y/n. where’s yeonjun today? it’s wednesday.”

the period only began ten minutes ago so it wouldn’t be weird for you to say that he wasn’t here yet. that he got held up after class and would be on his way shortly.

but you were just nervous and so bad at lying that you blurted out that he left to go to the bathroom, her eyes roaming the table in what you could only assume was for his books.

“he took his backpack with him,” you tell her quietly, smiling softly in an effort to hide your guilt and distress. she only hums softly before nodding her head, taking your word for it because why wouldn’t she?

you’re good and studious and wouldn’t ever lie to a teacher.

but then when she comes down to the library next week during 7th period with her class, catching you at the table by yourself, you do it again.

look her in the face and panic, make a scene of collecting your books as you tell her you forgot you guys were meeting in the cafeteria today - placing the blame on yourself.

you spent the rest of the period in the bathroom, collecting your thoughts and attempting to calm yourself down because you can’t keep lying.

you haven’t even talked to yeonjun since the first time you met in the library, only seeing him in passing in the hallway or after school.

he’ll send you a nod paired with his signature smirk and you’ll send him a small smile back, dipping your head before your cheeks flush at the mere sight of his eyes.

you wish you hadn’t agree to this.

you wish he didn’t effect you so much and you wish you could tell him you either need to actually help him or tell the teacher he doesn’t want to, because you’re losing your mind.

you’re anxious and upset and not feeling good about yourself, barely able to look your teacher in the face these days.

it’s on a friday before lunch, the bell ringing ready to dismiss you from her class, that it all comes crashing down.

she asked you to stay behind for a moment, everything about her face calm and neutral as you made your way over to her desk.

you were anything but calm as you stood before her, that familiar feeling of dread and guilt rushing in your stomach as you smiled softly at her and asked if everything was okay.

“yes, i just wanted to say what a great job you’re doing with yeonjun.”

you don’t even know what your face looks like but you know it’s probably the face of someone incredibly guilty, being praised for something you haven’t been doing and taking credit for it even though you know it’s wrong.

the feeling in your stomach confirms all of those feelings, tight and fluttery and buzzing with upset.

“o-oh?”

“yeah,” she smiles tightly, looking over your face before speaking again. “we just took our third test and he did great. in the low 90s.”

a part of you desperately hopes that to be true, that maybe he started applying himself and somehow started to grasp the material all on his own. you smile at the thought that that’s the case, nodding your head as you, against your better judgment, keep up the facade.

“i’m happy for him. he’s been working very hard. w-we studied at our last session for it, actually, and he really seemed to be understanding it.”

the contemplative look she gave you should’ve been the first sign that she knew you were full of shit, a quiet hum leaving her mouth. she holds your gaze until the moment you drop it, looking down at your white sneakers until she calls your name softly.

“y/n... why have you been lying to me?”

your lips press together as tears prick your eyes, all of the guilt and shame rushing through you at once.

“he failed his test and i know you guys haven’t been meeting.”

she knows that because you can’t lie. she knows that because yeonjun still doesn’t know anything and all of the students she’s recommended to you have passed with flying colors.

she knows because when you look up at her, your lip is trembling and it looks like you’re about to burst into tears.

“i... i’m so sorry.”

but even then, even after this moment right here, you’re still not gonna tell on yeonjun. because you don’t want him getting in trouble and you’re not gonna try to excuse your own behavior by admitting you agreed to it.

you’re just as at fault as the older boy and you’re not gonna pretend you’re not.

“why have you been lying? you could’ve just told me if you didn’t feel comfortable tutoring him or it wasn’t working out.”

because she knows yeonjun’s reputation. she knows he’s a year older and that you’re one of the shyer students in her class. she was hesitant at first to even put you two together but thought you’d be able to get through to him.

and because you don’t know what to say, how to make up an excuse that puts neither of you at fault, you don’t say anything. just continue to apologize with teary eyes and a shaky voice before she eventually lets out a sigh.

“take the next few days to figure it out. try to work on it with him or come to me and be honest that it’s not gonna work. but you didn’t have to lie to me, y/n. i’m a little disappointed in you.”

those words hit you harder than you care to admit, more tears building as you nod your head and quickly leave the room.

you knew from the beginning that it was wrong.

you never felt good about it and you knew it was bad but you still took part in it. she has every right to be disappointed in you and it feels like everything you worked so hard for has been ruined.

now you look like a liar who can’t be trusted.

now any time you tell her about another fellow student you’re working with, like the 7th grader you got through to or the 9th grader you helped get an a on their test, she’s gonna wonder if you really did that.

if you really helped them or if you’re just lying about that, too. telling them the answers to their homework or lazily explaining the concepts to them like you don’t work hard with each and every one of them.

you’re surprised to see yeonjun when you make it to lunch a few moments later, your stomach still in knots and left over tears in your eyes.

you don’t even realize you’re standing in front of his table until you hear one of his friend’s deep voices, a brash “who are you?” not even filling you with fear.

you’re only looking at yeonjun pathetically, wide teary eyes and pouty lips in an effort to hold back more tears.

yeonjun’s dressed in his usual attire but you can’t even focus on that, his pink hair flawless against his black shirt and chain hanging around his neck as he adjusts it carelessly.

soobin’s words catch his attention before your appearance does, looking at the front of the table and taking in the sight of wide, teary eyes and pouty lips; it pulls at something in his chest more than he cares to admit.

“yeonjun, can i talk to you for a second?”

your voice is wobbly and timid and everything about it so incredibly embarrassing, the tears in your eyes obvious to all the young men around the table.

you probably look like some girl he slept with and then left on read, begging him for another chance because your heart can’t take not being with him. because you got attached and now it feels like you need him.

but, really, you just need him to let you tutor him.

you can’t disappoint the teacher anymore and you had a job to do with him; you should’ve never told him that lying would be okay.

“who’s this?” his friend asks with a smirk, his hair a bright shade of purple that looks striking next to yeonjun’s.

“no one,” yeonjun’s quick to snap, looking at you before quickly getting up and guiding you out of the cafeteria by the small of your back.

he walks down a secluded hallway and out to the garden of the school, looking at the tears in your eyes and feeling himself frown.

“what happened?”

“i... she found out we haven’t been meeting,” you mumble, feeling silly and childish for crying in front of him about something like this; but you can’t help how you feel, you can’t help feeling sad and guilty about all of this.

your heart drops when he actually smirks at you, looking over your face with a gaze that’s just as soft as it is amused.

you’re almost positive he’s about to laugh at you, call you a loser for crying over something as juvenile as getting caught in a silly lie and hurt your feelings even more.

but then you’re quickly stiffening when his hand reaches up, gently brushing at your tears and marveling in just how soft your skin is.

“that’s why you’re crying?”

you’re embarrassed to say the least, any words you’d use to justify your reaction caught in your throat - and the smirk on his face isn’t helping either.

“you’re too pretty to cry over stupid shit like that, y/n.”

“it’s not stupid,” you respond, voice shaky and demeanor meek but still able to talk back.

because it’s not stupid to you. wanting to be nice and studious and a good person isn’t stupid. not wanting to be a liar or someone who goes back on their word isn’t stupid.

“she trusted me to help you and i lied to her.”

“we lied to her,” he says, voice and eyes teasing as he bends down to be on your level. you think he’s trying to make you feel better, a soft playfulness on his face that does anything but.

because you aren’t like him.

you aren’t cool and feared and you can’t not care about how you effect other people.

“why didn’t you just tell her it was my idea?” he asks suddenly, his eyes roaming your face in such a gentle but curious way. “she probably already knows that.”

“i... i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

he rises to his full height as a small smile crosses his face, your soft voice and sweet words again effecting him far too much. he shouldn’t feel this way toward you and he shouldn’t want to be tutored now.

he shouldn’t be reaching out to touch the smooth skin of your cheek, a few stray tears making his lips fall into the smallest of frowns as you hear his voice the softest it’s ever been.

“i wouldn’t get in trouble, angel.”

and there’s that word again. making your wet eyes widen and stomach to flutter, wondering how and why that simple word sounds so nice leaving his mouth.

maybe because you’ve never been called that before.

could only imagine being called that by someone, let alone him, in such a way. or maybe it’s because it is him, the boy you watched for months on end, forever fascinated by the way he carried himself.

or maybe it’s because-

“but even if i did, how’s that your problem? why would you care?”

it’s a fair question you suppose but it doesn’t stop you from licking at your lips nervously, an all too familiar (and embarrassing) blush warming your cheeks.

“i mean... it’s not,” you mutter shyly, not sure if you’re more intimidated by him calling you out or the look on his face.

but even with those feelings, you’re still able to meet his gaze.

take in the deep, dark intensity staring back at you in his brown eyes. they’re softer than one would expect, almost soft enough to make you forget what you were wanting to say.

“but it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. so it didn’t seem fair.”

he smirks so he doesn’t say anything too brash, looking over the blush on your cheeks. his hand itches to move your hair behind your ear, a move he’d always do because he knew it was charming.

knew it’d get him laid and get a girl’s heart fluttering.

but now he wants to do it just to touch you, feel your hair and skin and watch the blush on your cheeks deepen; but before he can do anything, he’s surprised to hear you speak anything.

“but it’s also not fair to keep lying,” you say softly, a broken little smile crossing your face as you look at him. “i actually really hated the lying... so if you don’t wanna do the sessions, i’m gonna tell her it’s not gonna work for us. but if you change your mind, i’m still free during those periods.”

at that moment, he had every intention of telling you no.

he didn’t wanna give up his free time and energy to learn about things he’s absolutely sure he’s never gonna need to know after this.

he didn’t wanna sit through the sessions high or not get high at all, the only way he’s able to cope with the last period of the school day knowing that he could roll a joint in his car with soobin.

he didn’t wanna resist his obvious attraction and borderline fascination with you, act on it in a way he knows you’re not ready for and in a way he shouldn’t.

but when he walked in the library on monday, the time he told you he’d get back to you, you looked up and smiled at him. it was such a small, quick smile but everything about it called to him.

the twinge in your eyes and the way your hair fell, how even though your smile was small, it lit up your face and made you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.

at that moment, you were positive he was about to tell you no.

that thanks but no thanks, he’s absolutely not gonna spend his free period being tutored by a younger student who only stutters and blushes in his presence.

but when he sat down in front of you, a smirk on his face and eyebrow quirked, you couldn’t even hold back your look of surprise.

a deep chuckle left his mouth when he caught your expression, the sound one of the best noises you’ve ever heard.

“what? did you think i wasn’t coming back, angel?”

it took you a month to see yeonjun was just as confident and just as much trouble as you’d expected.

he was far too charming and attractive and funny, a sarcasm and wit in him that made you muffle your giggles like a middle school girl.

you weren’t used to talking playfully with the people you tutored, always so focused on getting the work done and making sure you were doing a good job explaining the material for them.

but yeonjun always made sure to delay it, attempt to get to know you before you could even discuss his homework or review sheet; and even though it hasn’t been easy, he’s been persistent in breaking down that wall you put up.

“did the flashcards help or do you think you’re more of a-”

“why don’t you ever go out?”

you suppress the urge to let out a sigh as you turn to look at him, his expressive eyes looking over your face.

you’ve gotten used to the feel of his gaze on you, almost like it was burning into your skin and leaving you exposed to the bone, but it didn’t help when you made eye contact.

looked into his eyes and saw him looking back at you so confidently and so easily, you couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“what do you mean?”

you know exactly what he means but it’s the only thing you could think to say.

you know more than anyone how much time you spend alone in your room, watching tv series and reading books and reorganizing until you don’t even recognize your own space.

but it’s not that you’re bothered by it, that’s what you like going. not going out isn’t something you find bad or upsetting.

“i mean i see people from your grade at our parties a lot,” he hums lowly, his eyes leaving yours only to look at the soft, pastel pink material of your sweater.

“but you’re never there,” he continues, looking at you and cocking his head to the side questioningly. “why’s that?”

“well, i’m not...invited, i guess,” you mumble out, ignoring the way your cheeks warm even more. “i like sticking to myself. and staying home.”

the words and your tone bring a pout to his face, your eyebrow raising at the sight. why is looking at you like that?

“well now you have an invite,” he says, a teasing smile crossing his face. “come to my friend’s party tonight. soobin, do you know him? he has the purple hair?”

his voice is far too sweet and soft compared to the look in his eye, teasing and flirty and reminding you of just how dangerous he is. how he’s capable of having so many different sides, he nearly gives you whiplash.

he’s the bad boy everyone thinks of him to be, skipping class and getting high and ditching tutoring lessons by smiling too kindly at a mousy little tutor.

he’s the play boy you see come out when he looks at you a second too long, bringing a blush to your cheeks and stirring something very unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach.

but then he has a softer side you see sometimes, like when he decided to do these lessons in the first place because you cried to him and made yourself look even more pathetic.

“i’m happy you decided to do these,” you say to him quietly.

it was only your second session but you wanted him to know you were supportive of his decision. that, even if your word meant nothing (because, really, who are you to him?), you were proud of him.

it’s not easy for a senior to give up a period or two to learn about things they don’t understand; you probably wouldn’t wanna do it either, if school and learning didn’t come naturally to you.

but for whatever reason, he agreed to do it.

“oh?” he hums, the trademark smirk on his face causing your cheeks to warm.

“yeah,” you smile softly, nodding your head before looking down at your clasped fingers. “i just... wanted you to know that. i understand why you didn’t want to but i think it’ll be good for-”

“why do you think i didn’t want to?”

you look at him and for a split second you’re scared that you offended him. you suppose you don’t really know him well enough to make an assumption about him but you just assumed he-

“or, you know what, no,” he says, shaking his head as he pushes his chair closer to yours.

he leans over the desk the same way he did during your first meeting last month, bringing your faces closer until you can smell cologne and the faint stench of cigarettes.

“i wanna hear why you think i changed my mind?”

you quirk an eyebrow as you look at him, staring blankly until you realize he just plans on doing the same.

“well... i guess it’s because you wanted to do good, right?” you ask meekly, unsure why he changed his mind but knowing that you were happy he did. “and maybe you didn’t wanna disappoint the teacher.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth that has butterflies erupting in your stomach, watching as he shakes his head and meets your gaze again.

“is that no it?” you ask bravely, your wide eyes and confused look causing his own stomach to do flips. “what’s so funny?”

but he’s quick to push it down, reach over to ruffle your hair in a way that makes your eyebrows pull together.

“nothing, angel,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming yours. you see the exact moment there’s s witch behind them, a flirty and darker front he puts up melting into a soft, vulnerable look.

“but thank you for telling me that. because i’m happy i’m doing them, too.”

he has yet to tell you the reason all these weeks later, probably because you wouldn’t dare ask again, but whatever it was, must’ve greatly inspired him.

because over these weeks, he’s really been putting in the work. writing notes and listening to you and asking questions when he’s not making you blush or inviting you out just for you to decline.

“so...?” he asks, a charismatic smile stretching across his face as he looks at you awaitingly. “what do you say? you wanna come?”

“no, thank you,” you smile politely, feeling bad for downright denying it but the offer feeling far too similiar to cliche movies you’ve watched. where the popular boy invites the nerd to a party and everyone laughs at her, questions why the hell she’s here and pulls some stupid, immature prank on her.

but this isn’t a movie and you don’t think you even have the capacity to show your face there, nor would anyone care that much to target you.

dismissing him is easier than really considering you hanging out with him outside of this library. seeing him in a different setting and allowing him to see a different side of you.

not you looking at him pleadingly, your eyes moving to the paper in front of him as you ask him to do the next question.

“i’ll do it if you come tomorrow night,” he says, a sigh leaving your mouth as you look at him in frustration.

“yeonjun...”

because if there’s another thing you’ve learned about yeonjun, it’s that he knows you have trouble saying no to him. it could because he sees the naivety in you, seeing something good in him at times and thinking you’ll really be able to help him.

but maybe he hopes you can help him, too. be a person he can lean on and know 100% is gonna be there for him.

“c’mon, y/n, don’t you wanna have a little fun?”

“i don’t think i’d find it fun,” you mutter honestly, a pout forming on your lips that has him swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wants to kiss you in this moment.

just brush his lips gently against yours, hear the little sounds and see your reactions that he knows will be the best thing he’s ever had. hold your waist and feel your skin against his that while it’s juvenile to him would be so much to you.

“you don’t know until you try, y/n,” he mutters lowly, looking up at him and seeing his gaze is, as usual, unrelenting. “have you ever been to a party before?”

of course you’ve been to parties before; birthday parties, graduation parties, wedding parties - but you’ve never been to a high school house party.

and are you about to tell him that? absolutely not.

“of course i have,” you mumble, a smirk on his lips because he can tell by the way you avert eye contact that you’re lying. “but it’s just... especially with kids from school who i don’t know? i don’t think it’d be fun, yeonjun.”

“but i’d be there?” he whines, something very uncharacteristic of someone who is known to be a bad boy. “isn’t that fun enough?”

you let out a groan as you frown again, tapping the notebook in front of you lightly as you meet his close gaze.

“your test is next week, yeonjun. can you please focus on that right now?”

it’s not until the next session that he thinks to use that to his advantage, supposing he can stand one more party without your presence as he smiles over at you.

“let’s make a deal, angel.”

you know when he calls you that that you’re not about to talk about school or his test, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“if i get 100 on my test next week, you come to one of soobin’s party.”

you have to suppress a groan at the way he’s not letting up on this damn party, biting down on your lip as you do your best to give him a serious look.

“you should get the 100 because you want to, not because you’re trying to-”

his finger on your lips is the next thing you’re only able to focus on.

not the pounding of your heart or increasing anxiety at the thought of a party or the fact that there’s more people in the library than usual today.

you’re only aware of him touching you, a quiet “sh,” leaving his mouth that has your stomach fluttering far more than you care to admit.

he meets your wide-eyed gaze and smirks at the look on your face. his finger presses down on your bottom lip gently, dragging it slowly and watching as it pops back up.

there’s an almost pained look in his eyes that you can’t make out, his eyes never moving from your lips before meeting your gaze again.

“i want a lot of things, y/n,” he says, his voice deep and gruff and making your heart pound even more as he looks to your mouth again.

you feel your lower stomach swoop at the way he bites down on his bottom lip, his other hand ghosting over to rest of your knee.

your uniform skirt comes just above your knees, becoming higher when you sit and perfectly exposing your tight covered legs. his large hand rests on your knee like it completely belongs there, like he’s gonna dare anyone to tell him it doesn’t belong there and to take his hands off you.

“things i probably shouldn’t tell you yet so your pretty little face doesn’t become beat red,” he mumbles in your ear, his warm breath fanning onto your skin and making a shaky, embarrassing sigh leave your mouth.

but just him realizing that makes your cheeks flush. everything about his closeness and his words and the way he’s just saying these things to you right in the middle of the library.

the way his hand is slipping inside of your knee, fingers resting on the inside of your thigh that has some dirty, repressed part of you desperate to spread your legs just a little bit more for him.

feel more of his skin on you and heighten the feeling building in your lower half.

“but i can assure you, none of them are an on my test. but if that means getting you to spend time with me outside of this fucking hellhole, i’m gonna do it.”

just as fast as his hand was on your thigh, it’s gone and cupping your face. holding on to your jaw as he makes you look at him and has a look of softness and amusement but also darkness and arousal.

it probably has every bit to do with the fact you let out a tiny squeal when he did so, your eyes widening and legs now spreading apart ever so slightly.

“do you understand now?”

you should have the power here being his tutor but you don’t. you’re the cat and he’s the mouse, you’re the prey and he’s the predator and you’re not about to do anything to stop it.

“ye-yes yeonjun,” you say, a groan almost leaving his mouth at you how compliant you are already.

and it’s that reaction right there that has him skipping the party on friday and spending his weekend doing something he never thought he’d do his senior year - making flashcards and studying his ass off.

you remember being incredibly proud when, two weeks later, yeonjun came to your session with his graded test paper in hand.

he looked happy and accomplished and ready to take on the world, a warm feeling blooming in your chest at the look on his face.

“how’d you do?” you smiled up at him, your eyes soft and expression excited.

when he flipped the test over to reveal his 100% test, your first instinct was to raise your hand for a high five. it’s what you always did with the younger kids, praising them and sharing their excitement over a test that they worked incredibly hard on.

so when you did the same thing to him, quickly realizing he’s not one of your 7th grade students but an absurdly attractive man, your cheeks flushed and you stuttered out a “sorry.”

but he only chuckled lightly and high-fived you immediately, lacing your fingers from across the table before you could pull away. the action caught you off guard more than your nerdy high-five, eyes looking down to your conjoined hands before you gave him an incredulous look.

“what are you doing?” you squeak out, fearing that your hand’s about to get clammy and your heart may explode.

“don’t tell me you don’t remember our deal?”

you realized before you even entered soobin’s house that you made a grave mistake.

music was pounding through the open windows of the house and a few people were littered across the lawn. a drunken couple sloppily making out while another one fought about someone dancing with a stranger all before ten p.m.

you truly intended on never coming, telling yeonjun you seriously could not go through with this and had to flake out on your deal.

but he’d been so proud of his test. not just because it meant you were coming but because it showed him he was actually capable - or at least, that was the story he told you.

and whether you were silly and naive to believe him was on you since now, you’re walking into a party looking like someone’s holding a weapon to your back.

“so i’ll see you tonight, right?”

you were still hesitant even during 7th period this afternoon, looking at yeonjun with a pained expression.

“yeonjun... i really don’t know if i can do it.”

“why not? i’m gonna be there, just for you.”

you swallow down a bold, sassy remark that he’s gonna be there anyway, probably to remind your fluttering heart not to think too much into his comment.

but is him being there enough to make you go? or is that scaring you more? seeing him outside of school, around his friends, in an environment where he can be even more bold and daring.

after all, being in the school library didn’t stop him from creeping his hand up your inner thigh.

“i don’t just wanna follow you around all night and bother you like a lost puppy,” you whine quietly, knowing this was part of the deal but seeing just how impossible it is.

“how could you think you’d bother me?” he asks, his head cocked to the side just as the bell ringing interrupts you.

you let out a sigh as you stand to gather your books. you can feel his watchful eyes on you, attempting to ignore it as you silently get ready to go to next period.

he mistakes you walking away from the table to throw out a stray sheet of paper as you leaving, quickly rising from his feet and pulling you back into him. your body collides with his before he presses you against the table, the library nearly empty as the loud chatter of students can be heard from the hallways.

“were you gonna leave without answering me?”

his voice is deep and has a certain dominating darkness behind it, your eyes raising to his just in time to see him cock an eyebrow up.

“i... i was gonna throw this out,” you answer dumbly, raising the crumpled up paper behind your back.

he hums thoughtfully before taking it from your hand, crumbling it up and tossing it in the nearest garbage can. he misses but makes no attempt to pick it up, keeping you pinned between him and the table with no qualms about it.

“you missed,” you point out obviously.

a smirk crosses his lips as he lets out a hum, bringing his hand up to smooth out a piece of your hair.

“i’m gonna ask again,” he mumbles lowly in your ear, his large body and deep voice quickly making your breaths quicken.

“how could you think you’d bother me when i spent my entire weekend studying for that test?” he asks, his hands snaking down your body before gently resting onto your hips.

him pulling you closer causes another shaky sigh to leave you, your low, warning mumble of his name only making him smirk. he shouldn’t like this so much, how you sound so sweet and flustered and are allowing him have you like this.

“that was all for you, angel. not for me or the teacher or my parents or anyone else. just you. because i wanna hang out with you.”

you swallow the nervous lump in your throat as you raise your eyes to meet his, the playfulness that was in them turning the slightest bit dark. something in them making you lick over your lips as you try to calm your racing heart.

“you won’t even know when i’m there. how am i gonna find you?”

it’s the worst excuse you could have ever thought of but you’re not surprised since yeonjun was pressed against your body and breathing down your neck the way he was.

he chuckled lowly like he also knew it was the worst excuse you could’ve thought of, taking your phone from the table. he slides it open and looks to you, his eyebrow raised when you just continue to stare at him blankly.

then you remember, like every other teenager in the world, you have a lock on your phone.

“0319.”

he smirks at how easily you give it up, tapping a few buttons on the screen before handing it back to you.

“i put my number in there. text me when you’re there,

so even with a pit in your stomach and anxiety coursing through your veins, you go to his new contact name and type out “i’m here.”

you’re faintly aware of the fighting couple’s voices growing louder, his deep groans mixed with her higher pitched whines causing you to look over.

“i saw you touch her waist!” the girl yelps, her hands on her hips with a very obvious look of distaste. “so obviously you didn’t mind! maybe you should dance with her the rest of the night!”

“maybe i will, since you’re so god damn annoying,” he yells back, your lips falling into a frown.

the girl meets your gaze and it’s then you recognize her as a girl in your grade. she’s from the popular group but is one of the nicer ones, always smiling politely at other students and listening to teachers during their lessons.

she almost looks embarrassed to be caught in this scenario, a broken smile crossing her face before her boyfriend notices your gaze; you don’t recognize him, so you think he must be in yeonjun’s grade.

“what the fuck are you looking at?”

your cheeks flush as you immediately snap your head away, quickly becoming scared and uncomfortable. you can hear her chastising him but just want to be away as soon as possible, the prospect of this drunk man cursing at you somehow worse than a house full of strangers.

yeonjun hasn’t answered your text but you still take a deep breath as you walk toward the front door, immediately hit with the scent of alcohol, b.o. and weed. there’s loud music blaring from the speakers and making the house vibrate, bodies littered throughout the house as they all talk loudly and dance.

your eyes scan the room for his pink hair, stomach sinking when you see no sign of him.

is he even here yet? he told you he was coming at nine but could he be running late? or did he forget entirely, ignore your text as a joke and now you have to-

“hey. how do i know you?”

the first thing you see is purple hair and you’re immediately thrown back into the crowded cafeteria all those months ago. when you so boldly went up to yeonjun with tears in your eyes and he was quick to pull you away.

you remember the boy in front of you asking who you were, the same curiosity in his eyes now as you stand in his house looking extremely uncomfortable and out of place.

“i... my name’s y/n,” you begin quietly, the boy barely able to hear you over the music and loud chatter. “i had to talk to yeonjun during lunch once so i went up to your table and-”

“well shit, so you’re her.”

there’s a smirk on his face and gleam in his eye, like he knows something you don’t. you cock your head to the side in confusion, watching as his smirk widens and he nods his head approvingly.

“his tutor, right? he told me about you.”

“oh... yeah,” you say quietly, because yeah, that would make sense - his friends probably wonder where he goes during his free period now; there’s a few beats of awkward silence before he speaks up again.

“so what are you doing here?”

your cheeks flush and you wish you could blame the stuffiness of his house, looking to him as you stutter out that yeonjun invited you.

“did he now,” he hums, his eyes roaming your face and stopping on your cheeks. he doesn’t know what exactly yeonjun wants from a girl like you but he has to be honest in saying he sees the appeal.

“follow me then, sweetheart. you want a drink?”

you shake your head before following behind him, making eye contact with one too many intimidating boys and girls before landing on your feet. everyone’s in pretty heeled boots and crop tops, dancing and singing and grinding like they don’t have any cares in the world.

like they’re not terrified and dreading being here, even with the knowledge that the attractive boy they may or may not have developed a crush on is lingering around.

“oh, yeonjunnie,” you hear soonbin whine sarcastically, your eyes shooting up just in time to see his familiar black attire. his pink hair is poking out of his black beanie, the chain around his neck hanging low as he turns to look at his friend.

“i found someone for you,” the boy says before yeonjun can respond, bringing you around to the front.

you’re in the middle of both boys who tower over you and you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt more threatened; especially because when yeonjun looks at you, you’d think he didn’t know your name.

because he doesn’t give you a hi or a smile or even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

he looks at you and simply says, “well, shit, i didn’t think you’d actually come,” with such a handsomely conniving smirk, you’re not sure what to think in that moment.

because it seems as if all your silly, irrational fears are coming true in this moment. very much like the movies you’ve seen and scenarios you’ve pictured where you’re humiliated at a party or by the popular boy.

but his smile and his words seemed so genuine. he’s seemed so genuine getting to know you these past few months, how could he have faked it so well?

the way your face drops and cheeks warm cause his heart to break a little, still all too aware of the questioning eyes and lingering looks thrown your way.

“didn’t you invite her?” soobin questions, looking between you and him and noting how embarrassed you look.

“i did,” is all yeonjun responds. no rhyme or reason or answer as to why he did. just that he did. so it could very well be a joke.

“well then, welcome, y/n,” soobin responds, reaching his hand out to you. “i’m soobin, in case we weren’t formally introduced.”

you give him a tight smile, yeonjun’s piercing gaze on yours as you take soobin’s large hand in yours.

“nice to meet you.”

your voice is soft and shaky and brings more heat to your cheeks, wanting to die when soobin rips up one of his friends for you to sit on the couch.

“i don’t mind standing,” you insist, shaking your head and offering a small smile to the other boy.

“no, no, pretty girls shouldn’t stand,” soobin says with a smirk, catching the way yeonjun’s eyes roll and jaw clenches; it all goes unnoticed to you, though, too busy sitting down and looking at your hands nervously folded into one another.

“so y/n,” soobin says, sitting down across from you and leaning forward the same way yeonjun does during his tutoring sessions. “what’s it like to tutor this idiot?”

his words are laced with affection, as are his actions as he ruffles yeonjun’s beanie playfully, but they still make you frown. still make you wanna defend him in front of others and ensure that he’s not an idiot.

“he’s great actually,” you say softly, lips pulled up in a soft smile. “very smart and learns fast. definitely not an idiot.”

you look to the boy to see him staring blankly at you, heart sinking in your chest; you’re becoming increasingly uncomfortable in this environment and a big part of it as to do with his attitude.

you weren’t expecting him to be overly excited, kiss your feet upon seeing you arrive or proclaim an irrational excitement. but it kind of seems as if, right now, he could care less that you’re here.

“ahh, that’s cool then,” soobin smiles. “you’re a year younger than us, right?”

you can only hum a small “mhm,” yeonjun’s gaze burning into your face causing you to look at him.

it’s the same soft, wide-eyed look you give him during your sessions but right now, it’s making him feel far too unsettled. like people seeing him with you are gonna show them a different side to him he has yet to acknowledge.

“why’d you decide to come?” he asks, not being able to stop the words; he already knows the answer, he basically begged you too.

and because you’ve been nothing but sweet and soft to him, he’s not surprised when you don’t throw it in his face that he’s the one who enforced this. that he studied for nights to pass that test so you’d feel inclined to come.

“i thought it’d be fun,” you say sweetly, i thought we’d be able to have fun outside of school like you claimed to have wanted. “i don’t really come to parties a lot.”

“i can’t imagine why, you seem really sweet and funny,” soobin says, a flirty smile on his face that makes a blush creep up on your cheeks; he’s so bold and confident, you don’t know both of them do it. “you should come to more.”

seeing that shade of pink on your cheeks from someone else angers yeonjun more than he cares to admit, throwing his friend a dirty look before growling at him to shut up.

“why? she’s sweet, isn’t she? maybe i need to be tutored too,” soobin says, throwing a smile your way as he plops down in the spot next to you. “what periods are you free? maybe we can go out for lunch and have a session.”

“i... i’m not allowed to leave for lunch.”

that’s a school rule - only seniors are allowed to leave for lunch. but with the way soobin laughs and yeonjun hold back a smirk, the other people littered around also letting out soft chuckles, it appears that’s something not many people follow.

“you can with me,” soobin assures, patting your knee softly as he sends another charming smile your way. “i’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

you smile in an effort to downplay your embarrassment and discomfort, an annoyed sigh leaving yeonjun as he rises from his seat. he looks even more big and broad surrounded by these people for some reason, in his element where he fits in like a glove.

it’s even more evident that you don’t fit in here - at least in the library, that’s a place you belong. the quiet, the smell of books, the solidarity, a keen sense of-

“i’m getting another drink.”

yeonjun’s words are short and deep as he quickly gets up, hauling ass to the kitchen before anyone can even respond to him. his friend must see the look on your face too, a small pout on your lips that has the boy frowning next to you.

“don’t worry about him, he’s grouchy tonight,” soonbin says reassuringly, wrapping his arm around you affectionately. “some girl stood him up.”

the first thing you feel is a blow to your chest, an unfamiliar pain right in the center as you register soobin’s words; he begged you to come tonight but was waiting for another girl.

probably one of the many college girls, who are prettier and funnier and more charismatic than you.

so, really, you can’t be surprised. you were silly to think he liked you in the way you thought, in the way you’ve come to discover you like him because he makes you smile and laugh and feel warm inside.

but even so, you’re hurt.

you’re hurt and embarrassed and feel humiliated even though no one knows the real reason you came here and stepped way out of your comfort zone. thank god for that, you think, because it’d be even more horrible if people knew you came for yeonjun, all while he was waiting for someone else.

“oh,” you manage to squeak out, a soft look on your face despite the pain and embarrassment inside of you. “that’s too bad.”

“yeah,” soobin says, looking at you with sympathetic eyes you know you can’t trust. “he’ll be good, though.”

you bet he will, you think, because that’s just who choi yeonjun is. he doesn’t care who he strings along or makes believe is special - he’s gonna do what he wants when he wants it with no regard for how it effects other.

even a sweet little meek tutor he was able to get under his thumb the first day he met her.

when yeonjun returns, he can tell immediately that something is wrong with you. your hands are clasped together and you’re biting the inside of your cheek, fiddling nervously as you listen in on the conversation around you.

you meet his gaze and he’s quick to look away, one because he got caught and two because he doesn’t know if he can handle the look in your eye right now.

you’re always almost about to make him crack, break down into being someone worthy of you, and he doesn’t wanna do that tonight. doesn’t wanna show everyone here that, if he wants to, he can be a worthy person.

you’re a second away from breaking before soobin asks if you wanna dance, a tight smile on your face as you shake your head.

“i... i’m actually gonna go outside for a sec,” you say, knowing full well you’re gonna book it to your car and never return. “it’s hot in here. i need some air.”

“there’s plenty of air in here, angel,” soobin remarks, your eyes widening at the term.

it sounds different coming from his mouth, not as deep and melodic and it doesn’t let off a bunch of butterflies in your stomach. you’re too busy giggling softly as you shake your head that you don’t hear the deep, low noise of distaste leave yeonjun’s mouth.

you only see him grab soobin’s arm when he tries to get up to follow you, a lowly growled “let her go,” that makes your eyebrows pull together; you don’t know if he’s trying to hurt your feelings on purpose but he’s certainly doing it a lot tonight.

it feels like you can finally take a deep breath when you get outside, no one around except the chilly air and starry sky. it makes you feel a bit better, sinking down on the stairs and humming contently when your hands meet the cold concrete.

you passed by the dancing people and laughing, smiley couples inside and felt silly for coming here. silly for thinking yeonjun wanted you in his life without him getting something out of it.

what would he want from you anyway? what could you possibly give him when he’s already had so much better?

tears prick your eyes and you bury your face in your hands, taking deep calming breaths so the harsh winter air doesn’t feel like it’s burning you.

you avoided boys and feelings like this for so long and with good reason; you’re too sensitive and naive and always try to see the good in people.

you’ll put your feelings aside in order to spare someone else - you saw it in the beginning, pushing down your qualms about lying to the teacher to further appease a boy you found cute.

and when you put it like that, it sounds really fucking stupid. it sounds like, maybe, you’re just-

“didn’t i tell you you’re too pretty to cry over stupid things?”

your first instinct is to turn around when you hear his voice, his tall, dark figure looming behind you.

you should probably smile shyly or say that you’re not crying but you can only stay silent, turning back around to avoid his intense gaze and your own humiliation.

the same way he should probably go inside and carry on with his night the way he usually would. drinking and flirting and dancing before he probably brought someone home or into the bathroom.

when he moves behind you, that’s what you think he’s about to do.

but then he’s walking around your sitting frame and bending down to you, looking up at you from his crouched position. his hand reaches out to touch your face, forcing it up so you can only stare at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks.

there’s a frown on his face as he runs his thumb across your cold cheek, his gentle touch a shocking contrast to his harsher appearance.

“what happened?”

what happened? you think, not used to feeling so snarky and hurt. what happened was that he got your hopes up, was nice to you and invited you and kept making you feel special, just for them to come crashing down.

but then the more you think about it, the silence between you getting longer and longer, the guiltier you feel - because your feelings aren’t his fault.

you taking his looks and kindness and lingering touches for something deeper was a mistake. you know the kind of boy he is and have still been foolish enough to fall for him.

“nothing,” you grumble, a wet, humorless laugh leaving you as you shake your head. “i’m just being silly.”

but you can’t look up from your feet, your eyes roaming the cracks in the concrete, and that’s how he knows you’re lying; that, and because he knows he was being a fucking dick.

but seeing you in this environment was weird for him. seeing people look at you and look at him, specifically soobin who got it out of him that he might like you, was unfamiliar for him.

the same way this was unfamiliar for you - which is why he wants you to talk to him.

“what happened, y/n?” he asks, voice a tad bit harsher and deeper as he cranes his neck down. he hears your harsh, nervous intake of breath and resists the urge to reach out and touch you.

you need to answer him before he can touch you.

but you never do. not after ten seconds and not after a minute, prompting him to let out a sigh and pop his neck to the side. your face pulls into a grimace at the crack that sounds through the air.

his cold hand touching your face causes you to jump, your eyes meeting and a lump forming in your throat; his eyes fool you too much and that’s exactly the problem here.

“talk to me, angel, c’mon.”

your eyes start to burn when a harsh wind passes, tears stinging your eyes and coldness rushing over your face. why does he have to keep calling you that? why does his voice have to sound so sincere and why does he have to look at you the way he is right now?

like he cares so much and hopes those tears aren’t because you’re sad.

“there’s nothing to talk about, yeonjun,” you blurt out, anger and humiliation seep into your tone before you can stop it. you let out a sigh as you try to get it together, taking a few calming breaths before shaking your head.

“just go back inside, okay? i’m going home. t-thank you for inviting me but i-”

“i don’t want you to go.”

he blurts the words so loud and fast, it even sounds a little awkward to your ears. but he sounds and looks almost desperate, your eyebrows pulling together and heart sinking as you take a deep breath.

because you know you can’t stop the next words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“well, it doesn’t seem like you want me here.”

your words are soft and quiet but they still physically pain his chest, his eyes roaming your face as he brings them to your cold cheeks. he wipes under your eye when wetness forms, the cold biting wind rushing around you both.

“i want you,” he reassures quietly, his voice just as low and gravely as he speaks hushly to you; he thinks it’s the most honest and true thing he’s ever said to someone. “i want you more than you know.”

“then why are you acting like that?” you question sweetly, the pout on your lips nearly making him groan and cover them with his. “you were being... mean. i felt like... you didn’t want me here at all. or didn’t want people to know you invited me.”

your words break his heart but he also knows they’re true, his fingers caressing your face gently. he notices then how freezing and red it is, looking you over and rising from his feet.

you look disappointed that he’s gonna leave, your face falling and eyebrows furrowing before he reaches his hand down to you.

“let’s talk in my car,” he clarifies, nodding his head toward his vehicle. “it’s freezing out here.”

you bite down on your lip, contemplating it for a few seconds before another harsh gust of wind passes. you let out a sigh as you take his hand, grateful to enter his car the moment you sit down.

he turns it on and the engine roars to life, his fingers reaching out to turn on your heated seat.

the next few moments only consist of the car’s engine warming up as you wait for the heat to kick on, you and yeonjun stealing glances back and forth at each other; you both miss the others gaze by a few seconds and if anyone were to be watching, it’d be obvious you both were nervous right now.

dancing along the line you’re both nervous to cross for entirely different reasons - you because you somehow don’t think he reciprocates those feelings and him because he knows you deserve more.

but in this moment, he decides he has to be selfish. watching you with a flush in your cheeks and your lip drawn into your mouth.

“i like you, y/n. that’s why i wanted you here,” his voice says, breaking the silence in a way that almost seems more terrifying. “but that’s also why i didn’t... want people knowing.”

your eyebrows pull together and immediately your mind goes to him being embarrassed. embarrassed that you’re younger and quiet and that no one really knows who the hell you are.

he’s infamous and cool and a senior, obviously he should be with someone similiar. like a popular girl in his grade or a college girl or maybe even a the girl who stood him up.

“not because of you, angel, but because of...”

“you?” you interrupt, a snark in your tone neither of you except; but you’ve heard this line one too many times, not expecting to ever ever hear it real life, let alone toward you.

“it’s not you, it’s me?” you ask, a gentle, faux smile on your face as you shake your head at him. “is that what you’re about to say?”

he clenches his jaw so he doesn’t smirk, resisting the urge to laugh as he looks you over carefully. it’s obvious your smile’s fake because it doesn’t meet your eyes, the teary glint in them every bit sad as they are frustrated.

but of course, you’re too sweet to treat him as he deserves.

his hand reaches out to grab your chin, his thumb and pointer finger on either side as he forces your gaze to his. his smirk comes through when he hears your sharp intake of breath, tongue peeking out to lick at his lips.

“if you let me talk, angel, you’d know what i was about to say,” he hums quietly, his breath fanning into your face at his closeness. it smells of mint and beer, it should probably be gross but surprisingly isn’t.

his words successfully stir you into silence, partially from fear and partially because the look in his eye has caused you to grow warm all over; and once he sees that, he begins to speak again.

“i didn’t want people knowing because i didn’t want anyone fucking with you, y/n. because if they did, i’d have to ruin them and then everyone would see it.”

“see what?” you ask quietly, the air between you thick and buzzing as you hold his gaze.

hold it so adamantly and intensely, you’re barely able to register him leaning closer. inch by inch by inch, until his lips are pressed against yours and you’re kissing choi yeonjun in the front seat of his car.

you’re stiff and awkward and don’t really know what to do but it’s fine because he laces his fingers in your hair and pulls you closer. parts your lips with his tongue which causes you to kiss him back with a slow, unsure pace.

but it only causes him to smile, retracting his tongue and keeping it sweet before he pulls back and rests his head on your forehead.

“why i decided to spend my free period during senior year getting fucking tutored, angel,” he chuckles lowly, his hand running through your hair gently.

the soft look in his eye causes you to swallow nervously, words caught in your throat as you stare at him wide-eyed.

“i... i thought you... you said it was...” you let out a shaky breath as you try to get your thoughts together, completely unable to remember your conversation from weeks ago. when he cryptically asked you your thoughts about just why he agreed to stop lying to the teacher and do the sessions;

so instead, your cheeks warm and you’re hit with the reminder that you just had your first kiss with him. and that you were probably absolutely terrible at it.

“that was my first kiss. i... i’m sorry if it was bad.”

a small smile crosses yeonjun’s face as he shakes his head at you, thumb dragging down your cheek gently to feel the warm, smooth skin of your cheek.

“it was perfect, angel, you’re perfect.” he mumbles, your eyes widening and heart stuttering as a ball forms in your throat. “so perfect that i thought you stood me up and weren’t coming. so let’s go on date. a real date, this time.”

in the beginning of the school year, you would’ve never imagined your study sessions with yeonjun would be turning into dinner dates; but as you sit in your room and get ready, your heart pounding and palms sweaty, that’s exactly what’s happened.

it’s the fourth date you guys are going on and you can officially say that you really, really have feelings for yeonjun. you’re still shy and nervous around him but it’s only because he’s more comfortable with you too.

he takes your hand with ease and laces your fingers together that he was meant to do that.

he’ll shamelessly peck a kiss to your lips and deepen it at any given time, your cheeks burning and embarrassed voice telling him to stop when he did it in the middle of the bowling alley last week.

he’ll watch you and smile at you and just touch you with the softest of intentions, you almost can’t believe this is the bad boy everyone claims is so mean and heartless.

you say almost because you still don’t do it in school. it’s still a somewhat... secret fondness you have for one another. he’ll play with your fingers under the table during sessions and wink at you in the hallway but that’s about it.

he’d probably never kiss you in the hallway or cafeteria but you also wouldn’t want that. it would draw way too much attention and probably leave your face with a permanent, embarrassing flush.

“are you going out?” you hear your mom ask, her head peeking in before a smile brightens her face. “aw, you look beautiful, y/n. yeonjun must be coming soon.”

the topic of dating had been undeniably embarrassing with your parents, mostly because they couldn’t believe you were showing an interest. but they welcomed yeonjun with open arms, insisting to meet him at the front door to ensure he was a nice boy.

and oh had he really showed you just how charming he could be.

“mom,” you whine in embarrassment, her laugh echoing in your room as he throws her arms up defensively.

“you guys be careful. it’s supposed to rain soon.”

you nod your head as you finish getting ready, smoothing over your hair once more before your phone vibrates against your desk. he texted you that he was on his way with a smiley face and heart, sending one back before looking at yourself in the mirror.

you don’t know what the hell he sees you or why he likes you but you know if you dwell on it, you’ll talk yourself out of everything. convince yourself that this is all a joke and he’s gonna turn around and say he pities you.

even though, when you brought this up to him, he was quick to calm those worries.

“c-can i ask you something, yeonjun?”

you were walking home from the movies with your hands intertwined.

the cold, harsh winter had blossomed into spring, the night air growing less frigid; there was a still a bit of a chill but it was nothing a jacket and yeonjun’s warm body couldn’t fix.

“of course, angel,” he mumbles lowly, a small smile on his face as you stop in your tracks. he’s quick to follow, eyebrow raising and body turning so he can look down at you.

he cocks his head to the side when you don’t speak for a few seconds, his lips falling into a pout as his hand tightens in yours.

“you okay?” he asks quietly, thumb tracing small circles into your skin.

you lick over your lips nervously, feeling silly for the need to ask this question but it’s one you can’t help. it wracks your mind over and over again and it feels like you’re about to-

“why do you like me?” you blurt out, unaware you even said the words until you notice yeonjun’s face morph into one of surprise.

his mouth opens and closes for a moment, brows pulled together as he tries to make sense of your words.

“i mean, what’s not to like?” he asks softly, taking you by the hips and pulling you closer to him.

you’re in the middle of the sidewalk but there’s no one around, the sky dark and streets desolate as you both meet each others gazes - yours full of doubt and his full of confusion.

“i... i don’t know,” you mumble sheepishly, looking down at your intertwined hands. “i just... it doesn’t really make sense.”

“why? because i’m older? because you’re smart and i’m not?” he teases, your panicked eyes immediately meeting his.

“no! more like the exact opposite,” you clarify as you shake your head. “because you’re popular and attractive and charming and i’m just.... not.”

his eyes roam your face and his heart sinks when he sees the doubt and nerves continue to grow. how you really feel this way about yourself and are pondering the idea that someone like him would want someone like you, when really, it should be the opposite.

“y/n, i’m lucky that you’re settling for me,” the pink-haired boy laughs out, squeezing your hips reassuringly. “you’re good and sweet and so fucking beautiful. i wanted you the second i saw you, you know, but knew i shouldn’t.”

your eyes widen at his words, shock behind them that has a laugh bubbling from his chest.

“in lunch. i noticed you the first day and thought you were an angel,” he says, the nickname he always calls you particularly getting the butterflies going tonight.

“i could tell that you were good. you just have this.. aura, y/n, and i knew that i would taint it. i knew you deserved someone way better. because i’m not good like you.”

"yes you are,” you respond immediately, a frown appearing on your face as you shake your head. “you pretend not to be, but you are, yeonjun. i can see it.”

“you can see it because i wanna be good around you, baby. i wanna be someone good for you.”

tears prick your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, overwhelmed and unsure of how to respond to that. he smiles softly as he takes in your face, leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead.

he inhales your sweet, vanilla smell while you take in his cologne and faint scent of cigarettes, swallowing down the lump and praying you don’t burst into tears on the spot.

“don’t doubt yourself, angel,” yeonjun mumbles against your head, puling you closer until your flush against his warm, broad body. “i’m the one who got lucky here.”

even though it meant wasting away in the fucking library.

“the library isn’t that bad, yeonjun,” you whine ten minutes later in his car, heat blasting and music low as he drives to the restaurant. one hand’s on the steering wheel while the other’s laced with yours, your body turned in his black leather seat to look over and chastise him.

he confessed to you that your sessions were the first time he’d ever stepped foot in that library; he hadn’t even been positive that school had a library until he walked through the door that day.

“it smells like dust and the librarian’s a bitch.”

“she is not!” you squeal, smacking his arm lightly as you throw him a chastising look. “she’s just a little... misunderstood. people don’t respect her space.”

even you can admit sometimes she does go a little overboard; you saw her once lecture a younger student for a half hour because they mistakenly put a book on the wrong shelf.

“you’re too nice, baby. maybe even a little biased, since you’re the only one she seems to tolerate.”

“probably because i’m there every day,” you tease lightly, your eyes widening playfully before a loud crack of thunder causes you to jump in your seat.

your mom hadn’t been kidding when she said there was gonna be a storm tonight. you’d ran to yeonjun’s car shielding the top of your head, rain pelting down and wind howling as your mom’s “be careful!” got drowned out.

and right now, it only seemed to be getting worse.

“you scared of thunder?”

you hear the smirk in yeonjun’s voice and resist the urge to stick your tongue out, not about to admit that, yes, you’re nearly an adult but still terrified of rain and thunder.

“no, of-of course not,” you grumble, snatching your hand away from his. “it just surprised me.”

yeonjun looks over at you and sees the nervousness all your face, not commenting as he silently snatches your hand back. he intertwines your fingers as he raises your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against it while he drives through the rain.

it’s getting considerably heavier by every second, his foot pressing off the gas every time he drives past a puddle.

“i used to be scared of the rain, you know.”

you look over at him and see him looking peacefully at the road, pink strands of hair hanging in his face.

“oh, yeah? when you were like five?”

“twelve,” he corrects with a smile, doing his best to distract you from the chaos outside. “i used to wake up crying, sometimes. i know that’s hard to believe now. because i’m so cool and what not.”

“oh please,” you giggle out, the sweet sound filling the car also distracting him from the pounding of rain and crackling of thunder; he’s outgrown his fear of storms but even he can admit this one is a little bit scary right now.

“what, you don’t think? i’ll have you know-”

the skidding of his tires mixed with your frightened screams is the next thing he hears, a strangled “yeonjun!” in the background as he attempts to take control of his car.

there’s the boom of thunder and lightning and loud blares of horns before everything goes still, his body acting on auto pilot as he safely pulls off on the side of the highway.

his first concern isn’t damage to his car or the heightening storm outside - it’s you in his passenger seat, eyes closed tight and tears on your face.

“are you okay?” yeonjun’s voice frantically asks, barely able to feel the sensation of his his warm hands on your face. your heart’s pounding and your hands are shaking and for a moment, you thought you were about to die.

your eyes pop open to meet his and the concern in them only makes your eyes water more, bottom lip trembling as you nod your head.

but even though you’re nodding he sees you’re not. he sees you trying to catch your breath and your eyes looking back and forth nervously outside.

“hey, hey, angel. it’s okay. i’m here,” he hums lowly, his thumbs running over your face soothingly. “i’m here and you’re okay.”

you attempt to catch and slow your breaths as your eyes never leave his, his only leaving you to quickly assess you for injuries.

“i know that was scary. i’m sorry. i should’ve been more careful.”

“it wasn’t your fault,” you squeak out, swallowing the knot in your throat as you shake your head. your eyes roam his and you pout when there’s guilt and sorrow in his eyes, your own hand snaking down to hold his hand.

“are you okay?”

his eyes soften as he cups your face and brings you to closer to him, a quiet “yes, baby,” leaving his mouth before he places his lips on your forehead.

you breathe in his scent and he breathes in yours, not allowing himself to pull away until he feels you relax under him.

“i’m gonna drive us to my house, okay?” he says, his eyes back on you looking cautious. “we can order food. i just don’t want us driving in this if it’s gonna get worse.”

you nod your head before reaching down to grasp one of his hands tightly, his small smile meeting you before he carefully pulls back onto the highway.

the storm gets substantially worse as he makes his way to his house, hand grasping yours tightly as he drives slow and steady.

he’s flooded with relief when he finally pulls in his driveway, running around the passenger side door to help you out. his hand doesn’t leave the small of your back until you’re in his room, a big space with white walls and black furniture that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.

contrary to most teenage boy’s rooms, his smells really good. like a mix of his cologne, laundry detergent and a distinct smell you’ve just deemed as his natural scent.

it’s comforting and makes you feel at ease, licking over your lips nervously as you realize this is the first time you’ve been in a boy’s room.

“you want anything to drink?”

“i...i’m good,” you say, sitting on his bed as you look around.

there’s no decor on the walls except for a large flat screen tv across from his bed and above his dresser, a pile of clothes off to the side.

“sorry, i didn’t expect to have anyone over so it’s a little messy.”

you look over at him sitting beside you, a sheepish smile on his face. you think it’s the first time he’s ever sounded somewhat... nervous and out of his comfort zone.

maybe because he knows you’ve never been in this situation before.

“it’s okay, i like your room,” you smile, spreading your fingers out across his soft, dark comforter. “it’s very fitting.”

“oh yeah?” he smirks, inching closer to you and making your heart speed up. “and why’s that?”

there’s that dark playfulness you’re so used to seeing swarming behind his eyes, just as teasing as it is intense that makes you hold back a squeak. he quirks his eyebrow as he moves closer, pink tongue peeking out to roll over his lips.

you can’t help when your eyes fall to them, missing the feel of them on yours.

you two haven’t gone past making out, a clash of tongues and teeth that have you quietly moaning into his mouth. but when your body acts on its own accord, pushing yourself closer to him or grasping at the bottom of his shirt, he always stops you.

“what are you doin’ baby?”

you were in his car after a tutoring session, the parking lot of the school completely deserted. your cheeks flush and you immediately draw your hands back, lowering your head slightly as embarrassment took over.

“i...i thought that was...don’t you wanna...”

because clothes come off, that’s how it starts - you know that much.

and you can feel how much he wants to go further, the hardness under you that scared you at first now the thing begging you to go further.

you feel wanted and desired and even though you’re scared, you want to go further.

“we don’t have to do anything, baby. this is fine,” he says softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

“but i want to,” you mumble, not even sure if he can hear your words because of how quiet you are.

you know he must though because he draws his fingers under your chin to lift your face, eyes heavy of fondness and arousal making your stomach flutter more.

your first instinct is to assume he doesn’t want you - why else would he stop you? but you can see in his eyes that he does...right? because it really does look like that.

what other reason would he have to stop you though? maybe he just doesn’t-

“whatever you’re thinking is probably wrong,” yeonjun mutters, tightening his hold on you and bringing you closer to him. “i don’t wanna go further with you while we’re in the car, angel. you deserve more than that.”

“hm?” you hear him hum, ripping you from your memories.

you look from his lips to his eyes watching you with lust, the beginnings of your nonsense words cut off when he kisses you.

your heart flutters and stomach swoops immediately, kissing back with an embarrassing amount of fervor. he smirks against your lips as he pulls you on his lap, your arms circling around his shoulders.

his tongue traces your bottom lip before you feel it in your mouth, daringly meeting his back in a way you’d never done before. it causes him to bring his hands to your hips, squeezing and massaging them with his large hands.

“look at you,” he mutters almost condescendingly, falling back onto his bed and causing you to squeal. you’re holding yourself above him and his eyebrow is quirked, red lips puffy and pink hair messy causing your heart to flutter mercilessly.

“if i didn’t know any better, baby, i’d think you’re real eager tonight.”

you bite down on your lip as you adjust yourself on him, your hips straddling his and brushing over him. your building heat is right under him and it takes everything in you not to moan at just the thought, his hands strong and firm.

and just as you’re about to answer, tell him that, yes, even though you’re not familiar with.... any of this, you’re eager and ready, your stomach growls and ruins the moment.

it causes a smile to light up his face, a deep chuckle leaving him before he flips you over. he’s hovering above you now, no parts of your bodies touching except for his hand a few inches away from your head.

“or you’re hunger, my mistake, angel,” he says with a smirk, pressing a peck to your nose sweetly. “what do you want?”

you spend the next hour laying in his bed waiting for the pizza, the storm just as wild outside as it was when you were in the car. you bit down on a squeal threatening to leave your mouth every time there was a terrifying boom, your body shimming closer to yeonjun’s.

he smiled against your head and welcomed your body closer, bringing your head to his chest.

“you’re cute,” you hear him mumble, the swooping in your stomach causing you to feel warm.

you look up at him and smile shyly, tucking your head closer into his chest. you have to hide your growing smile when you feel his lips brush your head, deep content hums leaving his chest.

the doorbell ringing rips you two apart, his mumbled “i’ll be right back,’ causing you to sit up. you brush your fingers through your hair as you sit up, looking around his dark room and feeling something brewing in your stomach.

you feel every bit as nervous as you do excited and eager in his room with him right now.

it’s still scary because you’re new to this. because you’ve never done anything like this before and you know you don’t know what you’re doing.

but a part of you wants to kiss him on his bed. go further than he’s allowed you to because if he only didn’t want to be with you in the car, this should solve that problem, right?

you’ve never felt as desired and warm as you have with him these past months. no one’s ever looked at you the way he does or have made you feel the way he does.

you’re usually too scared or uneasy to talk to people or form a connection; but from the moment you met him, you were able to do that. a part of you just felt inclined to help him, be a person that he knows would be there for him even if it meant in the form of helping him study or motivate him.

you never would’ve expected for him to reciprocate your feelings. nor would you have expected to be in this current situation, want and need bubbling in your stomach at the thought of yeonjun doing-

“pizza’s here,” yeonjun says, popping his head through the door holding a box of pizza.

you smile upon seeing it, your stomach growling at the smell; if he hears it, he doesn’t say anything. just walks over and places the box on his bed, offering you a slice that you take immediately.

“thank you,” you squeak, bringing the food to your mouth.

he watches you for a few seconds, suddenly all too aware of him looking at you. you raise an eyebrow as you chew, a shy look coming over your face that causes him to smile.

“what?”

“nothing,” he says, shaking his head as he takes out his own slice. “my mom called me and said they can’t come home tonight because of the storm.”

you take the time to chew your food as you take in his words, the fluttering in your stomach a mix of nerves and excitement.

“oh.”

“yeah...” he hums, his eyes roaming your face; he doesn’t want his next suggestion to make you uncomfortable but he also thinks it would be best. for both of you.

“and i don’t know if i should drive you home, angel. it’s supposed to get really bad. do you... wanna stay over?”

there’s a lump in your throat for all the reasons there shouldn’t be.

not because this is your first time sleeping over a boy’s house or the fact that his parents aren’t home. or because you’re gonna have to call your mom and say you’re sleeping over a friend’s house.

or even because you don’t know what to expect tonight.

it’s only there because you know, in a new form of acting on your deeper desires and not suppressing yourself to just being some innocent girl, you wanna get railed.

“i... i guess i can do that,” you say, some nervousness still behind your voice because when it comes down to it, you’re unfamiliar with this situation.

“well yeah, but do you want to, baby?” he asks with a small smirk, his hand reaching up to toy with your hair.

his long fingers run through the strands before tucking them behind your ear, his hand slinking down to rest on your neck.

“if you don’t feel comfortable, i’ll take you home later,” he says, thumb running across your skin slowly. breath catches in your throat when he leans closer to you, his lingering scent and broadness causing you to bite down on your lip.

“i just thought it’d be nice to lay with you tonight. or wake up with you.”

“or let us go further since we’re not in the car.”

you don’t know who’s more shocked by your words but you know you’re definitely more embarrassed, a rampant blush crossing your cheeks as you attempt to hide in his shoulder.

he’s quick to pull you away with a small “tsk,” the smirk on his lips quickly widening despite the soft look in his eyes.

you bite back the noise threatening to leave your mouth when he wraps his hand around you hair, the slightest of stings ripping through your scalp when he pulls you forward.

“go further?” he asks lowly, his eyes peering down at you only making you feel more warm and flustered.

words are caught in your mouth and you can’t find it in you to say anything. not only because you’re too embarrassed but you don’t even know what to say.

you know you want more than kissing and that there’s always a building pressure between your legs when he pulls you on his lap.

you know on more than one occasion, you’ve wanted his hands that’d rest on your hips to go just a little further down. slip in the waistband of your pants and meet the wetness and heat through your underwear.

you’ve wanted to see his pink hair between your legs as you experience getting eaten out of the first time, holding back moans in the crease of your elbow as his tongue explores every inch of you.

you know you want to look up at him with tears in your eyes and a heaving chest, ask if you can please suck him off because you’ve also never done that before.

he can see the arousal and lust clouding your eyes the more the silence elapses, his cock quickly hardening as he takes in the sight of you on his bed ready for him to take you.

it’s just a matter of how and when he’s gonna. how and when you tell him like the good girl he knows you are.

“how much further are you thinking, angel?” his deep voice finally asks, successfully breaking the silence and building the thick tension.

you let out a breathy exhale when he pushes you on your back, the knot in your stomach tightening as he looks down at your body.

“what do you want me to do, huh?” he asks, the smirk and feeling in his chest growing when he sees you start to breathe heavily on his bed. your legs are nearly shaking from the build up in pressure, your tongue licking over your dry lips.

“i... yeonjun...”

he bites back the groan threatening to leave his mouth at you moaning his name, holding himself above your body as he hand spays out against your stomach.

“why are you moaning my name baby? i haven’t even done anything.”

“but... but i want you to. so bad.”

your voice is whiny and pathetic but it’s all it takes for him to snap, his hand moving from your stomach to between your legs.

he can feel the heat and pulse of your pussy and has to suppress his own groan again, completely getting off on the feeling that you, the innocent little tutor he’s been wanting to ruin since he saw you last year, is laid out on his bed and dripping just for him.

“please, yeonjun,” you whine again, completely out of your mind with lust when you feel his hand on you.

he bites down on his lip before he starts gently running his hand over you, barely putting any pressure on you. he’s just relishing in the how only that makes you spread your legs immediately, hips bucking up closer to his hand.

he pulls his hand away and pins your hips to the bed, his face hovering above yours before you can even whine again.

“be patient, angel. or this isn’t gonna work,” he growls lowly, his thumbs running over your pants gently.

“i- i’m sorry,” you gasp out, tears pricking your eyes because this feeling is so new and foreign and overwhelming. “i just... i’m so...”

“you’re so what?”

“i want you,” you say immediately, thinking back to your conversation with him outside of soobin’s house. when the words you’re telling him now are the same ones he told you. “i want you more than you know.”

a scoff leaves his mouth when you say that, remembering those words leaving his own mouth that night.

but the difference here is, he thinks, is that you really didn’t know that.

you didn’t know how just sitting there and smiling at him and talking to him so sweetly was making him want you. your soft smiles and vanilla scent and the wide-eyed look you’d always innocently give him.

but he’s aware of how much you want him, in this moment. he can feel it, smell it, see it. he knows just how much you want him because he wants you the same way.

your pants and underwear are off in one shot, a gasp leaving your mouth when you realize you’re completely bare in front of him.

he’s quick to look at your face to see if you’re okay, that teary wide-eyed look and teeth sinking in your lip greeting him; another whiney and mumbled “touch me,” leaves your mouth before he can ask.

a smile lights up his face that makes your heart jump even through this all, a teasing look in his eye even through the arousal and painful hardness in his pants.

“say please, angel.”

“please touch me, yeonjun. please.”

his fingers are on your clit right after the words leave you, your mouth hanging open and legs spreading when you’re immediately filed with a sense of some relief.

“you’re so wet for me, angel. how long have you wanted this, huh?”

you babble out something you can’t even hear through your pounding ears but it must be something good and polite enough because you feel a finger enter you a few seconds later.

he hisses at the tightness around his finger and has to remember to be gentle with you, fingering you slowly and sweetly as he toys at your clit.

“you’re doing so good, baby. so good for me.”

you cry out a moan that has his fingers moving quicker, curling them just right before you scream out his name; you’ve never ever felt anything like this before.

“yeonjun, oh, my god.”

“i know, baby, it’s okay,” he says, allowing his fingers to work over you and in you for a few seconds before he forces himself to remove them. your head shoots up and the sight almost makes him smile, a frustrated look in your teary eyes that has him cocking his head.

“why did you-”

the fingers just inside you are below your chin, the slickness of his fingers on your skin making you widen your eyes. is that... is he about to make you...

you hold back another moan when you watch him raise his fingers to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back when he tastes you. you don’t know if you’re a little grossed out or even more turned on but you think it must be the latter if the way your legs start to shake again and your lower stomach tightens.

“you taste so fucking sweet, angel. can i eat your pussy?”

he could tell how scared you were when you first got here, not seeing a hint of that fear now but still needing to check before he pulls you on his face and has his way with you.

“y-yes, please, yeonjun, oh my-”

you can’t even get the words out before his hands are taking off your shirt, removing the straps of your bra and pushing them down until your boobs pop out.

perky nipples spring into the air and he can’t stop the groan that leaves him, circling his tongue around each of them before he tells you to unhook it. your eyes meet his for just a few seconds before you reach out to take it off, quickly throwing it on the floor before you, without thinking, cover yourself.

his eyes flash and he immediately snaps out of his trance, placing his hands on your arms but not attempting to move them.

“what are you doing, angel?”

and it’s at this moment, something as silly as him seeing your chest completely naked, that you’re feeling insecure.

you know he’s been with girls before this, college girls who definitely have bigger boobs than you and know what they’re doing. girls who are prettier and sexier and don’t blush or whine at the slightest hint of his touch of them.

“i... i know you’ve been with prettier girls before. an-and i don’t think they’re that nice.”

“angel, i don’t know if i’ve gotten this across enough but you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever met,” he says, the sweetest words to ever leave his mouth not even making him blink.

because he needs you to know in this moment that you are. he can’t stand the insecure, fearful look in your eye that he’s not gonna find you desirable because you’re comparing yourself to other people.

“that’s a lie,” you weakly mumble out, tears stinging your eyes because this is so stupid. now you’re ruining the moment and he’s not gonna wanna do this with you. you’re proving just how inexperienced and unfamiliar you are with-

“i don’t lie.”

your eyebrow raises and he can’t help but smirk, the realization that your whole relationship started off lying to your teacher making him let out a deep chuckle.

“i mean i don’t lie to you, angel, i would never lie to you,” he says, reaching down to press a long kiss on your lips. it’s the most intimate kiss you’ve ever had with him, mouths parting on one another like you’re trying to get all your worries and reassurances out on one another.

him that you’re just as desirable as he knows you are and you that you really don’t know what you’re doing but you wanna do this with him.

“you’re beautiful, baby, and if anyone’s not worthy of the other, it’s me.”

his words make your eyebrows pull together, the look in his eye one you’ve never seen before. probably the most vulnerable and honest you’ve seen him look at you.

“but i’m gonna do my best to be, angel, so please... don’t think that,” he says, pulling your arms away from your chest.

he feels relief flood through him when you allow him to do say, his head dipping again to place small pecks on your chest before taking another nipple in his mouth.

he moans around you at the same time you do, throwing your head back against his pillow. your fingers lace through the back of his pink hair and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing, moaning out his name when his tongue carefully and slowly licks around the other neglected one.

“you also have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he mumbles around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it one more time before grabbing your hips and throwing himself on his back.

“so sit on my face, angel. now.”

you have no time to feel hesitant or insecure because, one, he pulls you up before you can do anything else and two, you’re far too eager to feel this for the first time.

his tongue latching onto your clit causes you to moan out his name, trying your best to not buck your hips against his face. but his tongue feels like it’s everywhere, flicking at it your clit and up inside you and quickly making your legs shake around him.

your hazy eyes look down and you see his own looking up at you, a hot arousal in them as you cover the rest of his face with your body. pink strands stick to his forehead and you bite down on your lip so you don’t scream, your eyes rolling back when he eats you out like a man starved.

he’s moaning against you and pulling you closer to his face, your hips bucking into his mouth as you whine out his name over and over.

you’re so out of it and dazed with arousal and need that you don’t even think twice when an idea pops into your head.

you buck your hips a tad harder than usual that he disconnects his mouth from you, about to ask if he hurt you somehow before you flip over on his face. your body leans over his stomach until your mouth is by the tight groin of his sweatpants, clumsily slipping down his boxers until his cock springs free.

it’s hard and red and looks completely neglected, screaming to be relieved by you.

so even though you have no idea what you’re doing, only guided by works of fiction and things you hear in the hallway, you wrap your mouth around the head of his cock.

you hear him growl at your name but only continue to suck him off, your tongue circling around him as your mouth moves up and down. you smile when he moans against your pussy just so moan around his a few seconds later, like he knew you were smiling against him at hearing that noise leave him.

he didn’t think he could get any harder than he already was but you continue to impress him and prove him wrong, his mouth working quicker on you to aid in his growing arousal.

a loud moan of your name leaves his mouth when you deep throat him, a growled “fuck,” against your wetness that makes you whine against him.

“i wanna fuck your mouth so badly,” he growls against you, wrapping his tongue around your clit just as you let out a strangled “please.” but he only shakes his head and continues his vigorous assault, sticking two fingers inside you that causes your scream to be muffled around his cock.

“you’re gonna come first, angel. i want you to come on my fucking face.”

and even though he already seemed to know it from the moment he met you, he sees that what he wants from you, he’s always gonna get.

your lower stomach tightens before a feeling of euphoria consumes you, your legs shaking and hips bucking before an orgasm rips right through you. your head is leant against his head as you try to catch your breath, whining slightly when he pulls you off of him.

he lays you down gently on the bed before placing a kiss to your cheek.

“you did so good, angel. how do you feel?”

“mmm.. that was the best thing i’ve ever felt.”

a deep laugh leaves him at your sleepy, dazed look, taking his shirt off so he can dab at your wet legs. you wince a little at the sensitivity and he mumbles an apology, laying on his back and opening his arms to you.

“lay with me, baby.”

a small smile crosses your face as you fall into his bare chest, sighing contently with your head resting over his chest. you can hear his heartbeat against your ear and feel his lips against your head, his fingers running over your arm slowly.

you’ve never been more comfortable and at ease than you are in this moment. even with the storm raging outside and the unknown parts of your relationship still coming, you feel happy.

happy and safe and so stupidly content.

“angel?”

you look up at him when you hear his voice break the silence, your chin against his chest as you meet his gaze.

he smiles upon seeing you, his hand coming up to pat down your messy hair.

“i like you. a lot.”

you bite down on your lip to hide your growing smile, daringly taking the first move to press a sweet peck on his lips.

“i like you, too. a lot, a lot,” you giggle out, the pink on your cheeks making his heart squeeze in his chest. “but i think you already knew that.”

“i was hoping,” he hums lowly, bringing you back into his chest. you smile against him as you inhale his scent, moving your body closer to him until you feel your leg hit a hard, fleshy piece of skin.

your eyes widen and pulse quickens when you see he’s still hard and aching, the content look on his face completely disregarding it.

“yeonjun...” you mumble, shamelessly staring at his dick a few inches from your leg.

he peeks an eye open and sees you staring down at it, a sheepish smile crossing his face; he looks a tad embarrassed and you shouldn’t find it as endearing as you do.

“sorry. it’ll go down eventually.”

eventually being when he gets up to go to the bathroom and jerks himself off. because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna go flaccid with you all naked and cuddled against him.

“you mean you’re not gonna fuck me?”

his eyes widen and cock twitches when those words leave your mouth, his hand falling to your jaw so you can look at him. his eyes roam your face when he sees the heavy desire building in your wide-eyed gaze, the perfect contrast of sweet and lustful that has him holding back a groan.

“where did you learn to talk like this?” he hums lowly in your ear.

you smirk against him before you bring your hand up to his mouth, his eyes searching yours. but you’re only staring back just as intensely, rubbing yourself against his leaking cock laying between you.

“spit on it, please.”

he can’t even stop his groan from leaving him this time, painfully hard and ready to bust. you learned so fast what he likes and that’s when you’re both polite and eager.

“baby girl,” he moans, bringing his face down to place a messy, dominating kiss on yours. he pulls your mouths apart after allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips.

his eyes fall to your mouth before he’s tipping your head back, your hand clutching onto his shoulder and tightening when, suddenly, he spits in your mouth.

your eyes widen but he smirks before you can say anything, wordlessly bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting on it as you so requested. you let out a shaky sigh, eyeing him warily before he gives you a nod.

it’s only then that you wrap your hand around his cock, watching as his eyes flutter shut and he leans his head back.

“there u go, angel,” he hums lowly, your hand twisting over the tip before exploring down.

he can feel your hesitance and unsureness but it only makes it that much more enjoyable for him, knowing this is the first time you’ve done this - although he does wonder how you knew to spit on it first.

his words spur you on and you wet your hand again, twisting and turning on every ridge of his cock. his moans of your name cause wetness to gather between your legs, your eyes meeting his to see them right on you.

“please fuck me, yeonjun.”

you didn’t have to ask him twice before he pushed you on your back. he fumbled to take his sweatpants off fully, discarding them on the floor before pulling you toward the end of bed.

you look down at him with furrowed eyebrows before a loud gasp leaves you, his mouth back on your pussy before he slides two fingers in. he preps you again until you’re coming around him, his mouth hot around you while his fingers are curled and relentless.

“p-please, yeonjun. i wanna- feel you.”

“and you will, angel, i promise,” he says, pressing one last kiss to your swollen, wet clit before going up to your face. “you’ve never done this before, right?”

he knows it and you know it but he still needs to ask. needs to know he’s gonna be the first person to take you and ruin you.

“no,” you immediately respond, shaking your head as tears well up in your eyes.

he responds by smiling, placing one last long kiss on your mouth before cupping your face gently.

“it might hurt, okay? i’ll go as slow as you need.”

you nod your head as you relax on your back, looking down to see him positioning himself between your legs. he swirls the tip of his dick around your wet clit and opening, watching as your dripping hole tries to suck him in.

“holy fuck,” he growls out, “you’re so wet, baby. it’s gonna feel so fucking good.”

you whine unintelligible words but he knows to just soothe you. bring his hand to your waist and rub slowly as he promises to be in you soon.

the stretch at first in painful and unfamiliar, your face pulled into a grimace despite the deep groan leaving him.

“oh, angel,” he growls lowly, his dark eyes meeting yours to see your face twisted in pain. “are you okay? does it hurt?”

“y-yes, but it’s okay. just... slow,” you say quietly, nodding your head reassuringly.

he hovers over your face as he inches himself in further and further, your breaths shaky and body tense as the pain worsens.

“i’m sorry, baby, you’re doing so good.”

you nod your head and he kisses away the tears, a sigh of relief leaving you when he stops moving. he’s still inside you for a few seconds, allowing your tight walls to adjust around him before he starts moving.

it takes a few thrusts for the burning pain to subside, replaced by a full, warm feeling that had you moaning quietly into the air.

“does it feel good now, baby?” you hear yeonjun ask, his thrusts speeding up as his body lays over you. “do you like my cock in you?”

“y-yes,” you mumble out, throwing your legs around his waist.

he growls lowly as he starts fucking into you, keeping his pace steady and just hard enough to make you lose your mind; because he doesn’t wanna hurt you but you also feel so good, he can’t help but chase after his orgasm.

“tell me you’re mine.”

“i-i’m yours, yeonjun,” you whimper out, his hand coming down to your clit making you cry out again. “i’m yours. yours, yours, yours,” you repeat dumbly, having no sense of control over yourself as an immense pleasure builds inside you.

he thrusts into you hitting a certain spot that has a scream leaving your mouth, a sadistic smirk on his face.

“that’s right, angel. you’re mine. you’ve been mine ever since i saw you last year,” he growls lowly, remembering the first time he saw you and knew you were gonna somehow effect him like this.

“i wanted to ruin you then, baby, because i knew you’d be mine.”

“yeonjun,” you whine, thrusting your hips into him at his words. remembering all the times he caught you staring at him. all the times you’d watch him and thought about how handsome he was.

how someone like him would never want someone like you.

but he wants you and you want him and it’s still something you can’t quite believe. you know you’re both different but it seems to be something that works, him bringing you out of your comfort zone and you making him wanna be someone better.

“i’m gonna come, angel,” he grunts out, “i’m gonna fucking come. come with me.”

you feel the knot in your stomach unravel before you’re both moaning each other’s names, chests heaving and his breathing harsh as he holds himself lazily above you.

he drops his head into the crook of your neck, attempting to catch his breath despite the feeling of your post orgasm spazzing around him.

the pounding takes a few seconds to subside, a final moan leaving him before he pulls out of you.

he’s quick to collapse onto his back, hanging his arm off the bed lazily as he searches for his shirt.

he cleans you up a few moments later, watching you with a small smile before he pulls you down onto him again.

“how was that?” he mumbles quietly, his eyes closed and head resting atop yours.

“really good,” you mumble back, your own eyes closed as you attempt to catch your breath. you still feel a little sticky but it’s not something you mind in this moment, your post orgasm daze leaving you content.

it could be the post orgasm daze making you say the next words that leave your mouth. on such a high of emotions and endorphins and utter contentment that the warm feeling in your chest if confused.

or maybe it’s the months of getting to know the boy beside you who had such a bad reputation. who you were terrified of at first and thought was mean an scary, thought for sure he was gonna find you weird and nerdy.

but you’ve never felt more wanted or desired by another person. no one’s ever looked at you the way he’s looked at you before or made you feel the way he’s made you feel.

“i... i think i love you, yeonjun.”

love had always scared yeonjun and especially hearing a confession like that after sex - it had always been his worst nightmare and, truthfully, an embarrassing moment.

but he’s never felt as listened to and comforted by someone else ever in his life before. someone who, from the second he met them, trusted him and thought of him to be good and smart and capable.

he didn’t know why and he didn’t know what he did for you to think of him that way but he knows he’s never gonna take it for granted. because from the second he saw you, he really did know you were gonna be his.

“i think i might love you, too, angel.”

#hello my first txt fic #pls look forward to it #also use protection <3 jdfkvks #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun smut #txt fluff #txt angst #txt smut #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #txt scenarios #txt imagines

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

coming home and finding out you fell asleep with lingerie on

characters: bakugou katsuki. todoroki shouto. genre: smut. warnings: 18+. very heaty moments. katsuki and shouto have no restraint. author’s note: This came out of nowhere, but I had an urge to write some spicy stuff so this is what happened. I was going to add Izuku too, but these things became longer than I thought they would (sorry baby). I’ll probably post his version of this with another character in the future though! The actual steamy stuff is written underneath the bulletpoints & read more! ;-)

bakugou katsuki

isn’t surprised to see you passed out on the couch with a small blanket over you, being that he arrived back at your shared apartment late at night due to another full day of hero work

cue his expression softening to those secret endearing eyes of his he never shows in front of you as he watches you for much longer than necessary, breathing in and out evenly in your sleep

but hey, can you blame him? you’re pretty damn cute when you’re so sound asleep like that—word by word thoughts going through his head right now

he knows you can’t stay here for long though. it gets pretty chilly in the living room and he doesn’t want you to catch something, considering how flimsy the blanket is that’s covering you. the material barely reaches to your ankles.

“Babe. Hey, babe. I’m home, c’mon let’s sleep on the bed,” he says low in his gruff voice, running a hand up your arm that’s clad in the blanket.

shakes you a bit to stir you awake so you can both walk to the bed together, but you don’t budge the first couple of times, only humming in your sleep

so he takes it upon himself to carry you to your room and properly get you to bed

however, when he moves the thin blanket off of you, that look of surprise slowly envelops his face when he sees inches of bare skin unveiled the more he pulls the sheet down

- - - - -

You’re practically naked aside from the sheer, wine red lace that only covers your most intimate parts, and even that isn’t enough to keep Katsuki’s eyes from wandering and his thoughts from wandering further.

With the blanket drawn off you, there isn’t a barrier to keep the cold from nipping at your skin—a sensation that agitates you awake as you stretch out your sleepiness on the couch. You’re still unaware of the lecherous eyes that stare at every angle you offer them. Spreading your body out like that, where the fabric clings to you, accentuating all your curves right in front of him? You may seem half-asleep, but there has to be a vixen at work inside that mind of yours. There’s no way you can’t be aware of what you’re doing to him.

It’s not until you rub away some of your drowsiness that you finally perceive the blonde kneeling before the couch. The surprise at discovering his attentive, red eyes glaring at you startles you to attention. You fix your hair, moving the strands out of your face and cleaning off the invisible marks of drool that might have abided your lips.

“Oh, welcome home, Katsuki,” you manage to greet, but Katsuki does not return your welcome. Instead, you feel his large calloused palm run up the length of your legs, and you realize the situation you’re in—how you decided to surprise him that night, wearing a new matching set of dark red lingerie, only to end up dozing off on the couch waiting for him. Though it seems it wasn’t all for naught. With the carnal expression he gives you in your most vulnerable state, he’s more than surprised alright. He’s absolutely thrilled.

Katsuki’s hands explore across your skin, mapping through every expanse despite being more than familiar with the territory. But in actuality, he’s paying all his attention to the lace—the fabric seeming so flimsy, so obscenely indecent on that figure of yours, yet at the same time, equally exquisite. You don’t wear lingerie often, but when you do, it always spurs something to tighten down in his pants, seeing you like this.

His hand trails up the material, tracing the texture before slowly inching his fingers beneath the waistband. “Mm, babe, were you planning something? Looking all sexy, wearing this—” he snaps the elastic against your bare skin, stinging any sleepiness lingering in you away as you wince at the sensation, “skimpy thing while I was gone? You must be desperate to get fucked, right?”

Even if you want to answer, he doesn’t let you. Any words desiring to leave stay trapped in your throat when Katsuki suddenly leans in to fervently capture your lips.

Despite the usual rampant pace of his actions, you soon adjust into his air of lust like it’s second nature. Your tongue mingles against his through each succession of your lips locking together, your hands twining into his ash blonde hair. Katsuki gets to work at removing his shirt with one hand, but remains mindful at busying the other by palming at the lace, gathering your flesh in his grasp before the other joins in on the ministrations.

He finally makes his way onto the couch with you, towering over your body and revels in the noises sounding past those pretty lips when his fingers find your center. All the sensations pile in your body, making you tremble in waves. The wetness already seeping through your delicate panties becomes slicker at his touch.

“Barely even did anything and you’re already this fucking wet? You really do want to get fucked don’tcha?”

“God, yes, please Katsuki. Please fuck me, I want you to fuck me so bad,” you whimper, not sugarcoating your words. You need him right now. Need him so much you’re willing to beg for him without restraint, dropping every ounce of your dignity if it meant he’d pound into you and relieve you of that ache building in your lower-half. It’s to the point where just the sound of his belt unbuckling around his pants is enough to delight and send tingles of anticipation to your cunt.

“Oh, don’t worry, babe. Waiting on me all this time? I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. All. Fucking. Night. Long.” The tone his timbre descends toward incites a whine past your lips, and he smirks at the desperate sound.

“But on one condition.”

“W-What?” You’re quick to reply—anything to lessen the delay and continue the heat of your passion. However, you’re hesitant at what this condition might entail, especially when Katsuki’s grin widens further. His hands do not relent in pulling and pressing against you through the red material of your lingerie.

“I get to fuck you in this thing.”

todoroki shouto

grumbling on his way home because of how late it is and how long you must have been waiting for him

his old man just had to drone on and on at him when the former pro hero visited his agency that night

because of that, he enters your shared space where the silence and dimness of the apartment are what welcome him

he wishes you were the one that would greet him instead, arms open for him as you ask about his day

but he’s more than aware you fell asleep waiting for him all this time

especially when he strides into his bedroom and beholds you laying on your large bed with a fluffy robe wrapped and tied around your body. your eyes are closed in slumber and you’re curled up atop the sheets

you look so precious to him, he can’t stop an adoring smile from finding his lips

he slightly nudges you. when you slowly rouse awake, your small, dozy movements add to his endearment for you that spurs his lips to your forehead while you adjust to your surroundings

“Love, I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Let’s get to bed.”

you hum a pitched “alright” in reply that comes out in a whine while you rub your eyes, saying you should get changed then

he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you saunter to the bathroom as you untie the sash of your robe along the way

just before your figure disappears inside however, he catches your skin, decorated in intricate black lace when you let the fluffy material fall below your shoulders

- - - - -

Shouto can’t help the look on his face while he unknowingly ogles you, eyes growing lidded with every peek of your body shown through the sizable crack of the door. He almost releases a groan when the long robe obscuring him from the rest of you finally piles in a heap on the floor and catches the full appearance of your body covered in the enticing black set.

The way it enhances your curves and brings out the beauty of your skin tone is beyond sinful in his eyes. He’s wondering how something so dainty can incite such a hardened reaction from him so quickly, and why he can’t seem to tear his gaze away at your mussed form still ridden with bits of sleep. You must be a succubus, right? Because how can you look so innocent, yet so tempting at the same time?

His attention on you leads to him lifting off the bed and striding to the bathroom, still trained on your figure with only lascivious thoughts running through his mind. He wants to touch you, squeeze you, feel the elaborate, lacy texture of your lingerie as he presses your soft lips on his, and hear all your lustful cries in the course of his insatiable greed.

Utterly devour you.

You have absolutely no idea what’s going through him right now, too occupied tidying bits of yourself in the mirror with a set of sleeping clothes lying on the counter, waiting to replace your beribboned attire. You wore this with the idea of wanting to treat Shouto to a good night of passion, but considering the time and how he must be tired after a long day at his agency, you figure it’s too late for such desires now. Oh, how wrong you are.

Undoubtedly so as the moment your fingers find the clasp on your back holding your bra together, they’re thwarted by a hand wrapping around your wrist and moving them out of the way. Within that instance, you’re also spun around. Your back presses against the sink counter as you come face to face with the sensual glint in Shouto’s gray and blue eyes.

You feel small underneath his unwavering, heavy gaze, squirming in place while his hands still grip your wrists that subdue any thought of you getting away from him. “Shouto, I need to get changed so we can go to sleep—”

“How long have you been wearing this?” he interjects, ignoring your plea and slipping a finger beneath the satin strap of your bra. Meanwhile, the other hand caresses up your warm, bare thigh until it arrives at your panties’ lace. The gestures leave the air hitching in your throat. You have to swallow down a gulp in order to reply to him amid his methodical strokes and caresses.

“I had it on all evening…” you admit, voice becoming quiet. Shouto hums at your answer, leaning into you and pressing your back further against the counter. He traces up your form with not only his hands but also his eyes, committing your bewitching state to memory, familiarizing himself with the intricate patterns of your lingerie.

“For that long, love? You expect me not to appreciate the effort and thought you put in, bearing your pretty body in this—” he palms at your breast through your underwear, rousing a moan to slip from your lips, “and waiting for me this entire time?”

“I-I thought you’d be too tired to—ah—t-to do anything so I figured we should go to sleep now, mm—” You find it hard to keep your voice steady. Not with Shouto’s ministrations descending to your cunt, stroking the wetness gathering at your center that saturates the crotch of your black panties. He captures the slickness around his fingertips and earnestly licks it off with his tongue, admiring your taste while keeping such intense eye contact. It makes your cheeks burn and your arousal heighten.

“On the contrary, baby, seeing you in this just riles me up even more. Makes me want to ravage you while you’re wearing it,” he tells you with an edge in his tone that reduces you to whimpers. Before you can come up with any coherent thought, he hoists you up onto the bathroom sink, effectively spreading you open in front of him as he kneels eye level toward your clothed pussy.

“And that’s exactly what I intend to do. So sit there and let me admire you as I appreciate everything you have to offer.”

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugou smut #todoroki smut #bnhabookclub #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #katsuki smut #shouto smut #bnha imagine #bnha scenarios #bakugou katsuki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bakugou imagine #todoroki imagine

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chaotictarlos · 2 years

Text

Hello and welcome to my masterlist! All of my fics are exculively posted on Archive of Our Own and I post previews here on tumblr along with moodboards and edits for most of my stories. My AO3 has over 200+ fics from different fandoms including 911 Lone Star, Marvel, Good Girls. I have also created many crackships that I write about (more on those below) and I write a lot of fics for those. I hope you guys enjoy my work!

Make sure to read all of the warnings on my work. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Nobody has permission to save, translate, repost, upload, or do anything with my fics. My stores are written for an adult audience and is intended for adult consumption.

Tarlos (TK Strand x Carlos Reyes) 🌻

↬ i'll be missing you | rating: explicit | word count: 1,619

Summary: It’s been months since they’ve seen each other but the holidays have TK feeling lonely and needing Carlos. Even as he tries not to, he craves his touch and company.

↬back to you | rating: explicit | word count: 9,993

Summary: 107 days since he had felt Carlos’s arms wrapped around him and it killed him every day he went without it. He missed the smell of Carlos’ cologne and how it always lingered after they hugged. He missed the feeling of Carlos kissing him awake, the way “good morning” always sounded extra special when it was coming from a sleep Carlos. He missed the way Carlos would make him feel safe and secure after a bad call. The way Carlos would look at him, soft eyes seeing right through him. But most of all he missed how he felt when he was with Carlos and how the world was made of colors again. Because without Carlos everything was gray and TK was just barely hanging on.

↬ the one i want | rating: explicit | word count: 1,999

Summary: TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

↬ be okay | rating: mature | word count: 1,886

Summary: Carlos hears that there was a shooting with the 126 involved but doesn’t know TK’s okay

↬ chest day | rating: explicit | word count: 1,899

Summary: Carlos sends TK a fun picture while he’s at work.

↬down to clown | rating: explicit | word count: 1,351

Summary: TK makes it up to Carlos for bringing home a lizard.

↬forever is on your eyes | rating: mature | word count: 2,312

Summary: Carlos gets hurt and TK learns what it’s like to be on the other side of the bed.

↬ TK brings home another animal | rating: general | word count: 100

Part of my 100 word drabble challenge celebration.

↬ A Thousand times yes | rating: explicit | word count: 1,912

TK and Carlos celebrate their engagement.

↬lonely isn't the world for this | rating: mature | word count: 3,436

“You can’t do this to me, Carlos. I swear to everything that if you die on me I’ll kill you.” TK bites out, tears swimming in his eyes, hands in fists as his chest heaves with sobs. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go, it wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

Carlos was never supposed to be the one in a hospital bed.

↬save me tonight | rating: general | word count: 1024

Carlos goes to the club and sees his ex, so he turns to TK for help.

↬ A nice surprise | rating: mature | word count: 857

Carlos assumes TK's straight.

↬Blind Date | rating: explicit | word count: 2637

The one in which Carlos lets Michelle talk him into going on a blind date with a handsome stranger.

↬Stood Up | rating: general | word count: 779

Carlos and TK are stood up... Or are they?

↬Twisted Ankle | rating: general | word count: 100

Part of my 100 word drabble challenge celebration.

↬ Say you'll be mine | rating: general | word count: 1,666

In which TK and Carlos are mutually pinning for each other because of course they are.

↬ A burn so good | rating: Explicit | word count: 2035

TK really likes Carlos' beard

↬ for you, i'd fall [series] | rating: general | word count: 2309

Prompt: “AU where TK and Carlos are both single parents who see each other every morning when they drop their kids off at daycare. They start chatting each morning, does it lead to something more?”

↬ it was always you | rating: general | word count: 333

Sometimes in order to find out just how much you're meant to be with someone, you have to fall apart and lose them first.

↬ with love, your soulmate [series] | rating: explicit | word count:

Summary: Carlos Reyes doesn’t think he has a soulmate. In the 25 years he had been alive he had never found anything that would tell him otherwise. At first, it bothered him that he was seemingly without anyone and that there wasn’t a perfect person out there for him but he learned to grow comfortable with that information. He learned to adapt, to date enough that he wouldn’t be lonely, and on the nights when he was without anyone he found ways to make himself feel good. He was content.

Or so he thought so until a letter arrived on the day of his 21 birthday. A letter addressed to him, from the past and from his soulmate.

From there, they start talking. Leaving letters for each other to find and read, falling in love through the words that they shared.

Will TK ever catch up to Carlos so that they can have their happy ever after? Or will time remain cruel to them?

↬ Mine | rating: explicit | word count: 3290

Summary: TK flirts with a bartender and Carlos takes him home to show him who's boss.

↬ Pineapple | rating: explicit| word count: 1418

Summary: TK uses his safe word.

↬ i want to see you | rating: explicit | word count: 2119

Sometimes TK likes to flirt with others to get Carlos riled up to fuck him senselessly when they get home.

Smut Prompt: “Spread your legs wider.”

↬ Hold Me Steady | Rating: mature | word count: 4386

Summary: The team responds to a scene where someone has overdosed and TK isn’t prepared for it. Thankfully Carlos is there and is able to provide some comfort.

↬ Unprofessional | rating: explicit | word count: 1812

The morning before TK becomes Carlos' "friend from work".

↬ Breathe (coming soon)

↬ The 126 (coming soon)

↬"Friends" (Coming soon)

Ducky (Dayton White x Bucky Barnes) 🌼

↬ all tied up (featuring Steve Rogers) | rating: explicit | word count: 2,745

Summary: Steve and Dayton treat Bucky for his birthday.

↬ Hearts on Fire (coming soon)

↬ Seduction of Power (Ducky x OC) (coming soon)

Summary: Luna Richardson hadn't been born into a life of businessmen and riches, she was made to be in one. Bitten when she had just turned 26 and turned into a vampire, she used her new found abilities to take advantage of the rich and powerful - sometimes disposing of some of the shadier ones, it's not like they were missed anyway. She learned a lot from her mentor, mainly how to survive and how to thrive in a world where people believed that vampires didn't exist and would make her out to be a freak if found out. Enter Bucky Barnes and Dayton White, husbands in their personal life and powerhouses in the business world. Everyone wanted a piece of them, they were the IT men when it came to wealth and keeping it. But they had secrets of their own, like Luna they hadn't been born into the life they had, but rather thrusted into it. When their paths cross it's only a matter of time before feelings arise, manipulations happen, and conflicts arise....

Fransom (Frank [EB] x Ransom Drysdale)🚬🥃

↬ object of desire | rating: Explicit | word count: 3,171

Summary: “Kissing Lord Frank was like coming home after a long journey. It had been so long since he had last kissed a man and Lord Ransom hadn’t realized just how much he had been missing it. He runs his hands down Lord Frank’s body, enjoying how hard and strong Lord Frank felt under his hands. He felt different than the ladies that he had been dancing with and he liked it. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed having a man under his hands until now.”

One of my favorite things to do is to create crackships and write stories about them. There’s something that’s just so much fun about putting two characters together that people might not think about being together. I’ve created, with the help of my friends, many crackships. Some of the crackships that I’ve created are:

Ducky (Dayton White x Bucky Barnes)

Fransom (Ransom Drysdale x Frank)

Gym Candy (Mike Weiss x Lance Tucker)

WhiteWinter (Dayton White x Winter Soldier)

Dandy (Dayton White x Andy Barber)

Dick (Nick Gant x Dayton White)

Hansom (Ransom Drysdale x Hayden (Harvard Hottie)

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Vaincre

part v

cw: homophobic encounter.

November

November shadows,

shade November change

November spells sweet memory,

the season blue remains

“Lo!” Finn called. “Guess who just got traded to the Rags.”

Cool dread spun its way into Logan’s chest at full force. He felt the point of one of his hips knock against the counter. “Quoi?”

“Marshy and Morgs!” Finn said, and the appeared around the corner into the kitchen, red hair a mess. “Like, together. Like us.”

“These were Harvard teammates, yeah?” Leo asked, spooning sugar into Logan’s coffee.

“Like us?” Logan said. “They’re dating?”

“Oh, no,” Finn laughed. “I just meant together, like, at the same time. Around the same time, I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” Logan nodded, which prompted Finn to imitate the way he said wow, drawing out the W’s. Logan smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We could visit them over the next free weekend maybe.”

“Damn, that’d be a blast to the past.”

“What are they like?” Leo asked, leaning into Logan’s side.

“You’d love Will. Will Morgan, Morgs,” Logan said. “Really level-headed, probably the nicest person I know. Marshy…”

“Percy Marshall is one crazy motherfucker,” Finn said, and poured his own cup of coffee, black.

Logan leaned into mock-whisper to Leo. “And Finn gets insane when they’re together.”

Finn shot him a look, but continued. “Best way to say it. He’ll party until the sun, he’s crazy superstitious—worse than Cap and Loops combined—and he’s also,” Finn slid onto a stool. “One of the hardest working guys you’ll ever met. Probably the hardest working.” Finn’s smile was one Logan’s favorite one, made even more so by the fact that he got to see it directed at Leo. “Until I met you, that is, Nut.”

Leo let out a pleased laugh and let Logan brush a hand through his hair. “Well, they’re in our division now. I’ll get to meet them.”

“Oh, man, we’re in for a fucking treat when we play New York next,” Finn grinned. “Gonna hit the town hard.”

Leo snorted. “You guys might.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I know everyone we need to know.”

“And I can finally tell you,” Logan began. “That the first time you dragged me around New York knowing ever person you saw, I loved you.”

Finn blushed a little and let Leo pull him to settle in the V of his legs from where he was leaning back against the counter. “Well, it’ll be nice to see them.”

Logan nodded, but part of his chest pulled. He cleared his throat. “Ouais. Also…”

When he paused, Leo tapped their socked toes together encouragingly.

Logan shrugged and looked down into his coffee. He thought of Finn’s quick breaths when they took the Cup back to Harvard. He thought of kissing him in their old room. He thought of everything before. Percy and Will were a part of all of that. Not directly, maybe, but Logan knew what seeing them again would do.

“Memories,” Finn said, and Leo nudged him.

“Don’t say it for him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Memories,” Logan agreed. “Good and bad.”

Remus missed the net three times in fifteen minutes, and only barely managed to keep himself from breaking his stick against the boards. He would be embarrassed afterwards if he had, but could it really be so much worse than the way that he felt now?

He accepted Thomas’ fist bump as he passed him going into the locker room and sat down heavily in his stall. The game had been close, but the Devils had won out in the end. He glanced at some of the assistant coaches, who were murmuring together. There was no guarantee it was about him, but it still felt as thought it was. Sirius was talking with Evgeni, Evgeni’s loud laugh warming up the room. Remus stripped out of his sweaty uniform quickly and was headed for the showers with a towel around his waist when someone slapped him on the back.

“It’s decided,” Logan’s accent came from beside him. He wasn’t bothering with his towel, which was slung over his bare shoulder. The fleur-de-lis tattoo on his hip—and everything else—was on full display. “Me and Talker are taking you out tonight.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean exactly?”

Logan just smiled. “No boyfriends. No hockey. We have a day off tomorrow, so no pressure. Just some drinks.”

“And some pool, maybe,” Thomas said, coming up to Remus’ other side. “What do you say, Loops? Fun, eh?”

“Okay, one of you is butt-naked right now and the other is in a three-piece suit. I’m going to say yes and shower, all right?”

Thomas gave a whoop, and Remus couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he dropped his towel in the change room and turned on the hot water. He felt like a sling-shot lately, being catapulted one way, and then in the opposite direction. He guessed he should feel thankful that his friends could pick him up like that, and he did, but another part of him caved in beneath the sheer affection.

I’m letting you down.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and looked over his shoulder when he felt a gentle, quick kiss against the back of his neck.

“Bonsoir,” Sirius said with a soft smile, and went to the shower head beside him.

“Hi,” Remus smiled back. “Beautiful goal tonight.”

He watched the water lace over Sirius’ tan skin, darkening his hair further as he pushed it back, away from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Olli,” Finn called across the showers, making Olli look over at him. “You’re fucking beautiful, man.”

Olli just squeezed shampoo into his palm. “I know that, Harzy.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed through the showers, joined by others, and Remus let it warm around him like the steam.

“Apparently Tremz and Talkie are taking me out tonight,” he said to Sirius as they walked back into the locker room.

“Tremz,” Sirius called over to him. “Ouch.”

“Pas de capitaines,” Logan waved him off and went back to looking at whatever Leo was showing him on his phone. Sirius laughed and looked back to Remus.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Wake me up when you come in if I’m asleep.”

“And go to bed without a kiss?” Remus glanced down at the towel slung low across Sirius’ hips, then back up to his bright silver eyes. “I’d never.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, but Remus felt the unspoken settling between them. Sirius had stopped bringing up wanting to help with Remus’ shortcomings on the ice. Remus knew he had brought that upon himself with refusals after refusals to talk about it, but now it felt more like a thing. An object. An ugly vase in the corner of the room.

Maybe he really did need to go out tonight.

Thomas settled in his stall beside Remus. “We’re gonna go to Red’s, yeah?”

Remus nodded as he pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. He held up his dark jeans. “I can wear this, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m not wearing this thing,” Thomas picked at the lapel of his suit. “Noelle already screen shotted the snapchat I sent her. Why keep it on now?”

Remus just laughed. “All right, Talkie. Lead the way.”

Red’s bar was shoved up against the side of a larger block of buildings in Gryffindor. Remus glanced up, one or two stars were poking through the increasingly cooling loud cover. Inside it was warm, though. Foggy in the way some rooms get when there are lots of happy people in them. Logan had chosen a long-sleeved, dark gray cotton shirt, so thin that Remus could see each ridge of his defined muscles and his necklace, too.

“What the fuck happens when that thing gets wet?” Remus snorted, plucking at it as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I’ll pretend we had a fight,” Thomas said. “Throw a drink on you, find out.”

Logan just eyed them suspiciously as they leaned against the bar. “You guys are strange.”

Thomas just flagged the bartender, stretching the white material of his thin knit sweater. He ordered a whiskey, Logan a rum and coke, and Remus opted for a lighter gin and tonic. They still had a game on barely 72 hours. Not that anyone was that much of a light weight, but he didn’t want any assumptions being made, any photographs taken that could put him in a worse light than he already was.

“I know what this is, you know,” he said after Logan and Thomas’ intense COD debate had gone on too long. They both looked over at him, the picture of innocence. Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Media’s a bitch,” Thomas said. “That’s all this is. Hockey’s hard. You can’t help that you live with Cap, who makes it all look like a piece of cake.”

Logan laughed. “I think Cap would disagree. He stinks after games, mon dieu.”

Remus and Thomas shared a look. “And you don’t?”

“Finn likes it,” Logan smirked. “Gets him going.”

“Are you sure its the stench and not the muscles?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Logan waved him off. “I’m not talking about this with you two. We’re here for Loops.”

Remus groaned. “Guys…it’s not…I mean every player goes through this, right?”

They both nodded.

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But it doesn’t help that some people—“

“Assholes,” Logan amended.

“Right. It doesn’t help that some assholes don’t think you deserve to be here.”

Remus tilted his glass towards him. “Yeah.”

“We just think…” Logan began uncertainly, tongue poking out to wet his full bottom lip. “Look, I love Cap. He’s like a brother. But he’s intense. For him…sometimes hockey solves hockey.”

Remus wavered. “Yes and no.”

“We just thought you might want some other ears,” Thomas offered a smile. “I mean we can’t offer a feel good night of lovin’ to make you feel better…”

Remus snorted. “Right. You know, Talkie, that’s exactly what Sirius calls it.”

Thomas cracked up, too. “But we can offer drinks. And, you know…”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Ears?”

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “Look at Tremzy over here, finishing my sentences.”

Remus let his smile die down a little. “I…thanks, guys. I mean, I love talking to Sirius, but I also…he is the Captain. He’s a representation of all of us. I feel a little…” Remus took a slow breath, not sure if he was even ready for the words to come out of his mouth. “I feel a little like I’m letting him, and you all, down sometimes.”

“Aw, Loops,” Thomas said, voice softened.

“I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s just…it creeps in sometimes.”

Remus watched Logan swallow. “I get it. If there’s anything I can understand it’s guilt.”

“Tremz,” Remus said comfortingly. “I guess I should listen to my own advice here, but it’s not your fault. I can be ears, too, you know.”

“Is this…” Thomas said quietly. “Carrot?”

They both stared at him. “Carrot?”

“Code names,” Thomas whispered, even though the tables were noisy and the bar was somewhat empty.

Logan laughed a little, and nodded.

Remus waited. Logan gathered thoughts slowly, carefully. Interrupting, he’d learned while talking with Leo, tended to scatter them. He was also happy that the spotlight wasn’t entirely on him anymore.

“I found him at Harvard,” Logan began, swallowing dryly despite the drink in his hand. “And I was a mess. And then we spent that year apart, and I was a mess. And then I found him again, in Gryffindor, and I was a mess. I fell in love with Leo and I was a mess.” He looked at them, eyes pleading, then back down at his drink. “I am so, so happy now. It worked out. I can’t believe my luck. I wake up so fucking happy every morning. Every little look at them, my life with them, is incredible.”

Remus and Thomas waited some more. Thomas sent Remus a half smile across him, then leaned his cheek on his fist.

Finally, Logan finished. “But I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a mess without them.” He closed his eyes, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it really does. Tremz, I get it.” He tilted his glass, making his ice cubes stir the liquid inside. “You’re someone when you’re with who you love. But you gotta be your own someone, too.”

“Ouais,” Logan was already nodded. “Right, like…Re, you’re you, no matter what. Leo, he’s the same way. Finn, too.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not so sure right now. But I think what you’re saying makes sense. Tremz, you’re allowed to want that for yourself. It’s not a slight to the boys. At all.”

Logan laughed, still laced with frustration. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.”

Remus smiled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve got a pretty level-headed duo in your corner. I mean, Finn’s Finn.”

Thomas snorted. “Might take him a second.”

Logan smiled and it was fond. “Yeah.”

“But Leo…” Remus snapped his fingers. “He’ll get it. They both will.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bar. “I’m not asking for space. I don’t want space. I don’t want anything to change I just want to stop feeling like I’ll crash and burn by myself.”

“Me too,” Remus admitted. “Maybe in a different way, but…me too.”

“I don’t know if I feel like I’m gonna crash,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But hey, life’s tough sometimes.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Friends.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughing, the conversation turning to organizing a pick-up game in the park that weekend—if it didn’t snow.

“Gotta use the big WC, gents,” Thomas said after a while, picking up his crutches. “Then pool?”

“Who the hell calls it that?” Remus snorted.

“Me,” Thomas called over his shoulder, politely excusing his way through the crowd with his charming smile and causing a few longing looks to follow him at his back.

Logan drained the last of his rum and coke. “You don’t feel like Cap’s putting pressure on you, do you?”

Remus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment. “God, no. No, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s mostly me, I think. He even wants to talk about it. Sometimes I just…can’t.”

Logan nodded. “Good. No, good, I just thought I’d ask. When I first met him, he’d get like that with me sometimes. Wanting to run extra drills or talk through tape. I snapped at him for it a bit. This was before he was really who he is now.”

“Parents were lingering in him,” Remus nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

A man came to lean against the bar beside Remus, then, and Remus shot him a smile that he hoped looked friendly rather than uneasy. The guy was really in his space. He shared a look with Logan, who’s shoulders were rounded a little in alert, green eyes narrowed in on the guy.

“You’re Lupin, eh?” the man said.

Remus sighed softly, looking down at his now watery drink. He should’ve known.

“Yep,” he replied, and looked at the man. He had two friends, hovering a little ways back.

“What’s going on this season, huh?”

The worst part was that the man was smiling, as if he thought this conversation was going to go well.

“I mean, I know you’re with the Captain and all,” the man said. “But, I mean…come on. Some of us care about how the team does.”

“Excuse me?” Remus replied.

The man tilted his head, looking mockingly regretful. “It’s not just about you.”

“Okay,” Remus said, keeping his voice flat.

“What he do to get you there?” the man asked, leaning in like they were friends. “I mean, like…some type of reward, or does he already give you those at home?”

Remus flushed. “I think we’re done talking.”

At least his friends had the decency to look a little nervous.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“Fuck off, man,” Logan said in a low tone.

“What,” he sneered. “You got yourself a boyfriend, too, Tremblay?”

Logan was on his feet then, stools screeching back, taller than the man, stronger. Remus’ arm shot out against his chest, keeping him and his balled fists back. The man’s friend stepped forward, too.

“Whoa, Mike,” one of the friends said, hesitating. “That’s not why we…that’s not what this is.”

“Oh,” Thomas scoffed, announcing himself as he made his way back to them. He somehow made his crutches and boot look threatening. “Wrong type of harassment for you, my guy?”

The fans’ eyes went large. “Talker…”

Thomas just stared at them, and Remus watched him go from Thomas Walker with his friends to Thomas Walker on the ice, defensemen. Enforcer. “Only my friends call me that. Sit down at your own table or get out.”

Thomas shouldered through them, one crutch landing briefly on Mike’s shoe, who only just bit back a groan. Thomas was all bright, sharp grin as he sat down, leaning his crutches against the bar again. He waved the bartender over, then looked at Mike who was still standing there.

“Do I have say it again for you?” Logan snarled. “Trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Logan sat down slowly as the three men backed up and turned away. Remus pressed a thankful hand to his shoulder, also meant to calm him down a bit.

“Well, that was fun,” Thomas sighed. “Jesus. We take you out to forget about it and those three show up.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said, though his heart was pounding. “I’m surprised that was the first time it happened. Had a close call at the grocery store the other day.”

“Another round?” Logan asked. “Then pool?”

“Ouais,” Remus smiled, in his best impression of Sirius.

Most of November passed without change. Remus felt the stagnant ball of frustration in his stomach. He and Sirius cooked together, slowly mastering more and more recipes. Remus lived for the triumphant look on Sirius’ face when a dish came out just right. He went out with Logan and Thomas, with James and Sirius, Finn and Jackson and Kasey. He never felt more at home than when he was tucked against Sirius’ side at a team dinner, watching Logan toss food into Finn’s mouth from across the table, hollering when he caught it and then ruffling an embarrassed Leo’s hair, who was shushing them.

The weather had officially turned to Gryffindor winter, biting harsher and harsher with each night. It got to the point where Marlene started bugging them all about the Christmas video—for the fans, she kept insisting. Come on guys, it’ll be fun!

Evgeni seemed to be the only one who was truly game for it.

Remus wasn’t unhappy, but the media was growing more and more aggravated with him, the fans’ patience was running thin like ice, and now Arthur had started sending him glancing looks until, finally, he pulled Remus into his office as the boys were packing up.

The ball rolled around Remus’ ribs, fighting for space with his heart, and he sat in the leather chair across from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur took off his glasses, which was a bad sign. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Remus didn’t have the courage to make him.

“I know,” Remus finally said, and then his throat choked up. “I’m…”

“I don’t want any apologies,” Arthur said. “And, God, Lupin, I didn’t bring you in here to yell at your so get that look off your face.”

Remus blinked through the scarce relief and looked down at his hands.

“Media’s being real tough, I know,” Arthur sighed. “I know. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “I’m just…it’s not connecting, I…I don’t know. Maybe I could put in more time one-on-one with one of the coaches. Or ground work with the trainers. I know we’re about to go on the road. Maybe tomorrow morning before practice.”

Arthur hesitated, then nodded. “If you’d like. But overworking yourself isn’t gonna help if that’s not the issue. Frankly, I don’t think skill is the issue. You’re a beautiful skater out there. You’re wicked fast and can misdirect hits like I’ve never seen. But…”

“No net,” Remus mumbled.

Arthur looked regretful. “No net.”

Remus nodded. “I’m working on it. I’m doing everything I can.”

“I don’t doubt that, Remus. Really. Don’t think I do. I’ll be seeing you at the Dumais Thanksgiving, yeah?” Arthur asked.

Remus nodded, spared a smile. “Of course.”

Arthur smiled back and rose. He clapped Remus on the back as he opened the door to his office again. “Good. Try and relax over the break, okay? I know it’s short, but sometimes its less work that pays off. It doesn’t always have to be more.” He looked up. “Ah, another young rascal I’ve had to say that to.”

Remus looked up to see Sirius’ smile, his dark hair curling against his neck, but otherwise tucked under a thick black winter hat. Every muscle in Remus’ body eased at the sight of him. He wanted to wrap himself up in Sirius, tuck himself inside of his winter coat and never leave.

“Cap,” Arthur gave him a nod. “See you for Turkey. Who you’ve got for the big game?”

Sirius just shrugged. “American football. Who cares?”

Arthur made a wounded noise—and another one came from Leo and Thomas down the hall as they were bundling up for the cold. Evgeni was holding Thomas’ crutches for him as Jackson helped him into his coat. Remus cracked up and took the warm palm Sirius held out. They walked down the hallway that smelled familiar and warm, under toned by the scent of carpet and cleaner that, had it been any stronger, would have been unpleasant, but it just added to the familiarity.

The garage door rattled shut behind them as Sirius unlocked their back door, letting them into their warm kitchen. Remus shook out of his coat, hanging it in the closet and rubbing his hands together. With his coat and bag, he tried to drop everything else at the door. This was his and Sirius’ space. This wasn’t a rink, or a locker room, or the press room. Theirs. The word was warmer than the heat Sirius had set to come on a half hour before they got home.

“I’m starving,” he said. “What do you feel like? I maybe want pasta.”

“I feel like you,” came the reply from behind him.

Remus’ smile was slow and he turned to see a glint in Sirius’ eye. “What is it, the cold weather? You’ve been all riled up after games lately.”

Sirius just grinned, hands squeezing Remus’ hips. “I love watching you out there.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, his neck and his nose, between each phrase. “I love your face, I love your feet, I love your shoulders, and the way you bite the finger of your glove while you watch the game between shifts.” The kisses got considerably more heavy, lingering and accompanied by the the brush of a tongue and teeth. “I love the way you cradle a puck and the way you tape your stick. The way your hair sticks to your neck.”

Remus just smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been playing like shit.”

“Nu-uh,” Sirius said, and Remus whined a little at the next nip, letting Sirius rock him back against the kitchen counter. “Slumps are normal. You play amazing. Just no points. Shit and slumps,” Sirius said, and Remus’ mouth went dry as he was lowering himself to his knees. “Shit and slumps are different.”

Remus let out a laugh. “Aren’t those the words to turn a guy on.”

Sirius just grinned and bit at his pants zipper. “I love you.”

“Better choice.”

Sirius carefully pulled Remus’ zipper down. “Can I? Here?”

Remus only reply was tugging Sirius’ hat free to get at his hair, the thick strands weaving between his fingers. He could already feel himself getting interested, pressing against the slip of his boxers by Sirius’ proximity alone.

“Sirius Black,” Remus sighed as Sirius nuzzled against him. He stroked over his hair, overwhelmed with how much every part of Sirius meant to him. “I love you.”

Sirius took one of the hands Remus had in his hair by and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Remus let Sirius’ mouth fuzz his mind out, moaning softly at his hollowed out cheeks, laughing at the gentle nips to his hips and thighs. After, Sirius kissed him against the counter until both of their stomachs growled. Remus pressed his mouth against Sirius’ flushed hot cheek.

“I feel like a million bucks, thanks, baby.”

Sirius just smiled, tucking himself away.

It was true. Remus felt home. Settled. Almost as if he could forget the conversation today. Maybe even like he wanted to go down the the basement rink, just for fun, which he hadn’t felt like in a while.

“D’accord,” Remus sing-songed. “We have pasta or chicken or both.”

Sirius grinned. “Both.”

They were mostly quiet as they cooked, bumping hips, iPhone playing softly through their speakers. Remus watched the way Sirius kept his fingers carefully curled away from the knife, like Remus’ mom had taught him that summer. His tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth, the same way it did when he was carrying a puck up the ice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asked softly as Remus minced garlic.

Remus glanced over at him, then kept his eyes on his fingers, so close to the sharp blade. “Um. Coach says it’s not my fault. He says I’m playing well. It’s just…pointless.”

“C’est pas—”

“No, not like pointless, like, pointless. Like I’m not getting net.”

“Ah.”

They smiled at each other, Remus’ a little shakier.

“Yeah.”

I feel like I’m letting you down.

“I feel…” Remus began, and the words caught. “Um. I mean, it’ll get better. It has to.”

Sirius’ expression flickered, but he nodded. “Mhm.”

“Do you feel like a white sauce?” Remus asked, turning to the refrigerator. “Go well with the chicken.”

“Sure,” Sirius nodded. “Sounds perfect, mon loup.”

Remus took a long breath as he opened the refrigerator doors, maybe taking longer than necessary to find the half & half. He was angry at himself. He didn’t know why the words were sticking to the back of his throat. He didn’t want pity, he supposed. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to comfort him. Remus closed his eyes.

He’d do better.

Leo and Finn had their shoulders pressed together, each with their own book in their hands, when Logan opened the apartment door.

“Got the cream,” Logan raised the shopping back, and Leo all but leapt from the cushions.

“Yeah you do,” Finn said without looking up.

“Thank you,” Leo slid on his socks in his rush to get to Logan. He pressed his palms to Logan’s cold cheeks, kissing him in a quick burst. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Logan smiled as Leo scurried back into the kitchen to finish making his part of the the American Thanksgiving dinner Pascal was hosting.

“I can’t believe I ran out,” Leo said, stirring something on the stove.

“It’s fine, Le,” Logan said, shrugging out of his jacket and following him in. “Happy to get you whatever you need.”

Leo turned, a touched pout on his face, and Logan beat him to it this time with a slower kiss of his own. Leo tasted like the caramel he had had them all taste test earlier and Logan licked into his mouth eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Logan mumbled.

Leo’s expression softened in the way it always did when one of them said that. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck.

“Want to peel sweet potatoes?” Leo asked with a hopeful grin, and Logan laughed.

“Sure, soleil.”

Finn gasped from the couch, eyes on his book, glasses on his nose. “They kissed. I fucking knew they would.”

Leo gasped, too. “No. Harzy, spoilers, you’re faster than me.”

Logan looked between them. “Are you guys reading the same book again, like, next to each other?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he was gripping the book like another secret might spill out. “And yes.”

Leo pressed a peeler into his hands with another kiss, this one fast and skittering across his cheekbone.

“I love both of you,” Logan sighed as he picked up the first potato. “You’re weird.”

Finn closed his book without marking his place and heaved himself up with a groan, cracking his back. He came to sit at the bar counter across from where Logan was peeling.

“Thanks for the help, Harz,” Logan said.

“I don’t like it when my hands smell like potato.”

Leo laughed. “Sweetheart, how’d you ever survive on your own?”

“Take out,” Finn and Logan answered at the same time.

“And catering,” Finn added. “I think the NHL is used to boys who can’t cook. Marlene just slid the caterer’s card into my hand without a word.”

Leo just shook his head. “She tried the same thing on me. Honey, please.”

Logan and Finn shared a smile, both turning to gaze at Leo’s back.

“How much time do we have?” Leo asked.

“Like, two hours, babe, you’re good,” Finn said.

“Do I have time to ravish you in your glasses?” Logan asked.

Finn raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, these old things? You want to wear them?”

Logan dropped his peeler and walked around the counter. He spun Finn to face him on the stool and Finn’s feet hooked around his calves, holding him there. “Non.”

Finn smiled, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s bottom lip and pull.

“Tremblay, potatoes.”

Logan groaned and Finn gave his butt a firm slap as he pulled away. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Uh, hey dad,” Cole cleared his throat. “It’s me. I just um. I’m in Pascal Dumais’ house. Can you believe that? Uh, I just wanted to say…you know, happy Thanksgiving, and all that. Maybe you can come out to a game soon? Yeah…let me know, I can get you tickets. Okay. Okay, see you. Merry—or happy Thanksgiving. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Cole sighed as he put his phone down and looked around the Dumais’ sitting room. It was tidy, with food laid out every table, ready for guests. Cole, after that phone call, already felt tired.

There was a knock on the doorframe and he turned to see Layla, smiling at him hesitantly. She held out a glass of a deep colored wine. “I thought maybe you’d want some.”

“Oh, I can’t, uh…” Cole began.

Layla snorted. “Me neither, but…” she glanced around the tall-ceilinged living room. “Who’s gonna tell? Dumo? Please.”

Cole laughed a little and took the thin stem from her fingers. “Thank you.”

Layla nodded, bending for a cheese and cracker. “That sounded a little tough. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Cole pocketed his phone. “It’s not really. Well…maybe now it is. But I don’t think of him that way, of this that way. He’s a good father.”

He sounded defensive even to himself and sighed. “When he decides to be.”

“He hard on you?” Layla asked. She took a seat on the couch and Cole glanced around before settling on the ottoman of one of the fat leather chairs. “About all this?”

“Hockey?” Cole said, then laughed. “No. No way, he doesn’t give a shit about ice hockey. My mom got me into hockey. My dad still hopes I’ll be, like, I don’t know…I don’t know what.”

Layla frowned. “It’s not like you could’ve been a money-bags doctor and chose to paint watercolors instead?”

Cole cracked a smile. “Yeah…Yeah, he sort of skipped around a lot before I actually started getting good.”

“Oh,” Layla said softly.

The doorbell rang. And then rang again and again, like someone was jamming their finger into it repeatedly.

“Tremzy!” he heard Katie shriek a moment later.

Warm voices filled the hall.

Cole rose and, after a moment, offered Layla a hand. She smiled, letting him pull her up. “It’s not as sob-story as it sounds.”

“I get it,” Layla nodded. “My older sister skipped altogether when I was little. Still don’t know why. I know it’s not the same but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

Layla just smiled, one of her bright ones, and wrapped her hand—gold rings and all—around his arm. “Come on. Shit’s about to get wild.”

“And delicious,” Cole said, turning towards the smells coming from the kitchen.

Layla laughed, and Cole wanted to hear that sound twenty more times.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny

Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.

But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.

But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.

You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban.

The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.

“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door.

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it.

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes.

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”

“You’re young. How old?”

“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said.

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said.

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said.

“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head.

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”

“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that,” you said.

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.

Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances.

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”

Monday Morning

“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned.

“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”

“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.

“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”

“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”

“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”

“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”

“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.

“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.

“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”

“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.

“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.

“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”

“So when do you take a break?” he asked.

“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.

“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”

“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”

“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.

“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”

“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”

“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”

“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.

“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles-”

“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled.

“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”

“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.

“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”

“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.

“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile.

“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”

“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.

“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”

“You actually got me a cake?”

“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.

“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.

“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.

“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.

“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”

He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.

“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.

“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”

“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”

“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.

“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”

“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen.

“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”

“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”

“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.

“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.

“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake.

“Drink?” he asked.

“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”

“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”

“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”

“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”

“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”

“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.

“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”

“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”

“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”

“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”

“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”

“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”

“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.

“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.

“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”

“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”

“Looks ain’t everything.”

“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.

“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.

“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked.

“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”

“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”

“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”

“I bought a cake.”

“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”

“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”

“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#tell me a story bingo #SPN #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen acklees #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

Text

Daddy Issues

Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving), Daddy Kink, passionate sex

Word Count: 2361

Author’s Notes: My GRAYstans unite! I have unlocked a new passion for Daddy!Grayson. Also, my headers either feature the reader image as Malia Tate from Teen Wolf or Jane Villanueva from Jane the Virgin.

“Are you SURE you want to make Sledge’s doghouse from scratch?” You asked, following your boyfriend, THE Grayson Dolan, into the backyard. Grayson and you had just adopted a puppy that he was FINALLY not allergic to, and he had become quite obsessed with wanting the absolute best for your new pup

“Babe, do you REALLY want our son to have some basic and boring dog house for the backyard, or wouldn’t it be more fitting for him to have a MANSION like the king he is?” Grayson suggests, wagging his thick eyebrows at you.

You gently shove his side, rolling your eyes at his response. “Fine, Sledge and I will just MONITOR your progress by the pool.” You call back to the pup, watching him gallop towards you both, wagging his tail. Grayson moves towards the garage to bring all of the wood and materials needed for the project onto the grassy area next to the pool, arranging the pieces by length.

Sledge lays down in the grass next to your lounge chair as you sit down, tightening your lavender string bikini bottoms on your hips. Today was GORGEOUS, the sun shining and the heat not sweltering, allowing for the perfect day to tan while you watched Grayson work.

You decided to start by tanning your back, lying with your face propped on a towel in the foldout chair. Your hands hold your phone out, scrolling through Instagram as you soaked in the summer rays.

Grayson started his plans by sawing the boards to the perfect length, pulling a pair of safety goggles over the top of his tousled long locks. You eye him carefully from where you lay, watching as he handled the saw with ease, cutting the board to its perfect size before continuing on to the next piece. Your eyes linger on the curve of his back muscles squeezing through the black tank top that clung to his figure.

Sledge barked, pulling you from your daze, demanding attention beside you. You place the phone by your side, smiling down as you sit up slightly to provide your furbaby with the attention he craved. “Are you watching Daddy work? Well, so is MOMMY.” You coo, running your fingers through his soft fur.

A half hour goes by, Grayson diligently putting together the pieces of wood, sweat dripping from his hair down through his beard. You decide it’s a good time for a hydration break, Sledge following you back inside the kitchen where you grab two bottles of water along with a dish to pour some out for your pooch.

“Gray, how about you take a quick break?” You chirped, approaching him as he leaned over and inspected his work. You hand him one of the water bottles, opening the other and pouring half into the dog dish you set beside your feet, Sledge lapping happily at the bowl.

“How’s it looking so far, boss?” Grayson teased, standing back to let you inspect his work. You tilt your head from side to side, putting your fingers out as a ‘frame’, closing one eye and then the other. Grayson let out a laugh as he watched you pretend to inspect like a ‘real’ boss, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“I’d say it looks sturdy so far, keep up the good work, EMPLOYEE.” You place a kiss to his cheek, sauntering back over to your lounge chair, sitting down to let the rays tan the front of your body.

After a few minutes of lapping at the water bowl Sledge moves back over to you, rolling happily in the grass. Grayson feels sweat drenching his black tank top, a mixture of the heat of the sun and the work he was putting into his project. He grabs the hemline and tugs it off, tossing the sweaty material in the grass next to him.

You can’t help but stop and OGLE at him when he removes it, a sinful image playing out in your mind. Your eyes roam over his sculpted chest, remembering how it felt when you ran your hands up and down his abdomen. Your eyes move up to look at his hair, long locks sticking to his forehead as he continues his work on the dog house. Lastly, your eyes fixated on his hands, watching the veins protruding as he hammered nails into the wood, forming the outside walls of what would be Sledge’s humble abode. Grayson looked DELICIOUS, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flip-flopped at the sight, his cerulean swim trunks clinging to his hips.

“Hey G-Gray, I’m gonna go inside, watch Sledge for me, please?” He nodded, eyes fixated on the task at hand. You took one last glance in his direction, taking a mental picture before pulling open the screen door and heading directly towards your shared bedroom.

You needed relief after watching him work, he wasn’t even TRYING to seduce you and yet you still felt dampness between your thighs. You opened the bedroom door and shut it behind you. Your body stumbled forward, flopping back against the bed, shimmying out of your bikini bottoms, tossing them to the floor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, REWINDING the image of Grayson working outside in your head, the back of your lids acting as a screen for the projected image. Your delicate fingers slid down your chest to your core, circling around your bundle of nerves and letting out a soft moan. You pictured the way he tossed his shirt off, how the sweat GLISTENED on his skin, that perfect beard you refused to let him shave.

Fingers move lower, parting your folds and moving in and out of your core, arching your back against the bed. You continued pumping your fingers in and out, feeling that familiar buildup in your chest when you heard the bedroom door open, Grayson taking in the sight of you.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He asked, arms crossing against his bare chest. Your eyes snap open, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket over you. As if he HADN’T seen what you were doing just moments ago.

“N-Nothing, I think I am just exhausted from the sun. I figured I needed to lay down and rest a bit.” You stuttered, a hand moving from below the blanket to scratch nervously through your locks.

Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he approached you on the bed, standing just at the edge of it and holding your gaze. “Babygirl, don’t LIE to me, you know I don’t like it when you lie.” He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, eyes still locked on yours. “Were you TOUCHING yourself?” He asked.

Your cheeks start to feel hot, a rosy blush spreading across them. “Y-Yes, I was. You just looked so good outside and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working so I came in here and-” Grayson holds out his hand, silencing you before you can finish your sentence.

“You’re forgetting the rules, babygirl, REMIND me what they are.” He questioned, his voice lowering an octave. Your bottom lip quivers, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. “N-No touching myself, only DADDY gets to touch me.” You whispered, your gaze darting to the bed to avoid his stare.

“Look at ME.” He demanded, his tone making your eyes snap up immediately. “Yes, only daddy gets to touch you, and what happens when we disobey, babygirl?” You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes going wide.

“Y-You, you get PUNISHED.”

“Exactly.” He responds, two fingers beckoning you towards the edge of the bed. “Turn around, ass up.” You follow his instructions, crawling to the edge of the bed and turning around. Grayson’s fingers grab your neck, pushing your head down against the mattress. “You’re going to count to ten for me, if you stop counting we’ll start all OVER.”

The first smack across your ass made your pussy tighten, wincing slightly at the burn of his thick hand against your skin. “O-One.” You sputtered.

“Good girl, keep counting.” He commands, sending another smack to your flesh.

“T-Two...three...four...five.” Tears are welling up in your eyes, a mix of both pleasure and pain through each strike to your tanned skin. You don’t want to falter though, you know it’ll be MUCH worse if you add more slaps to the count.

“S-six...seven...eight...nine...ten.” Tears are now flowing down your face, staining your cheeks in the light coat of mascara you had applied that morning. Grayson moves the pressure off your neck, letting out a deep breath.

“What a good GIRL, see, I knew you could be good for me.” He flexes his hand in a fist and then stretches it out over and over, relaxing the muscles as the sting starts to dissipate. “I think it’s time that I get a THANK YOU.” You know EXACTLY what he’s asking, turning around to face him, eyes level with the thick bulge in his shorts.

“Yes daddy.” Your fingers tug down the shorts, his thick cock springing free against his chest. You lick your lips before reaching up, taking his cock into your hand and SLOWLY stroking it. Your mouth parts, lips curling around the tip, sucking and licking before moving them lower and lower down the base.

His fingers move to grip your hair, a groan of delight leaving his lips. “That’s it baby, open your mouth, let me fuck that perfect mouth of yours.” You do as you’re told, relaxing your jaw and letting him slide further. Not only was he thick, but LONG, tears welling up as he pushed all the way in, your nose touching the skin right below his belly button. He uses your hair as his reins, bucking his hips in and out, a mixture of your spit DRIPPING from the sides of your lips down your chin and neck. Grayson keeps his eyes on you, watching you sputter around him, his teeth grinding together.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He pulls out abruptly, a string of saliva linking your mouth to his cock, and you feel utterly EMPTY. Grayson tilts your head up with his hand, ushering you to get up. “That’s enough, don’t want to cum in your mouth today, want to cum inside you.”

His hands push you back against the bed, untying the bikini top you still wore, revealing your bare breasts to him. His hand moves to grip his cock, rubbing the red and swollen tip against your folds, a dark smile on his face. “You are already SO wet, babygirl. Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod up at him but you know that’s not what he wants, he wants you to use your WORDS.

“Yes, Gray...I mean, daddy. Please fuck me, want to feel you cum inside me.” The words are satisfaction, the code that unlocks his motions as he pushes inside of you, working in slowly as your walls INSTINCTIVELY tighten around him, pulling him deeper. After a moment he bottoms out, holding himself there, looking down at you.

“So fucking tight, babygirl. Your cunt was MADE for me.” He moves his hips, pulling out almost completely before slamming himself back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. He continues at the same pace, pulling almost completely out and pushing back in fast, your voice becoming louder which each thrust.

“Gotta keep it down, you know Ethan is still sleeping. Wouldn’t want to wake him up. Or maybe you do, huh?” He asked, two of his fingers snaking between your breasts down to your clit, circling it. “Want Ethan to know that you’re a SLUT for my cock? How your daddy is the only one that can please you?”

You moan loudly, your voice hoarse from the way he fucked your throat earlier. “Yes daddy, I want EVERYONE to know I’m yours.” His hips slap into you over and over, fingers circling your clit with more pressure now. He can tell you’re close to coming, your walls clenching and unclenching him, your thighs shaking as his own hold you apart.

“Uh-uh, gotta ASK if you can cum babygirl, you know better.” Grayson’s free hand moves to your neck, wrapping around it JUST enough that your breathing gets harder, but not enough that you might pass out.

“Fuck, PLEASE daddy, want to cum on your cock, want to show you how good I can be.” You choked out, picturing the way his hands had moved around the wood and saw earlier that were now around your throat.

Grayson is pleased by your words, eyes focusing on your face and his fingers rubbing against you faster. “Yes, babygirl, CUM on my cock.” He can barely finish his sentence before your orgasm hits you, crying out loudly, tears flowing from your eyes with pleasure. He continues his movements, feeling your walls tightening around him and knowing he can’t hold on anymore. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna coat your walls with me, want you LEAKING my cum.” A groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, his cock pressed deep inside you as he spurts thick ropes of cum into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, closing them as you continue coming down from your high, his hand moving off of your neck so you can fully breathe. His hips stutter briefly, letting you milk his cock before he pulls out, noticing your dazed state.

“Hey...come back to me baby.” He whispered, moving to lay down next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face. Your eyes FINALLY flutter open, a lazy smile on your lips. “Sorry about that, you really did just look so good I couldn’t help myself.” Grayson let out a deep chuckle, tugging you into his side, his fingers roaming up and down your back.

“Don’t apologize baby, next time just tell me and I’ll stop to USE you how you need to be used.” He glances at the door, hearing a whine from Sledge, pulling him back to reality. “Our SON wants you.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nope, YOU can deal with him now, you fucked all of the energy out of me.”

Tagging my GRAYstans: @midnightf | @certainaesthetic

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan x reader smut #fanfiction #doubleleoenergyworks

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noir0neko · 4 years

Text

satan on the strip | m

“But parties of two are my favorite.”

rating: very mature

paring: jungkook x reader

includes: lots of sexual tension, also sex, praise!kink, pet names, magic, drinking, other nefarious behavior, a lot of sexual thoughts, maybe some biting and maybe some air play and begging and cursing and just,,, it’s mature content folks, proceed with caution

word count: 3.5k

a/n: Hi!!! It has been a hOT minute since I was here. I was just toasting some bagels this morning when this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to write it. Shoutout to bagels for giving me inspo, even though bagels are not in this fic in any way. If you would like to read along to what I was listening to when I wrote, here is the little playlist: “Miracle” by CHVRCHES. “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna, “Hypnotic” by Zella Day and “Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars. ENJOY! I am super happy to post something again!

“Come on!” Your friends try to flag you over to the dance floor from your very comfortable seat at the bar. You hold up your drink as an excuse and take a sip, letting the bitter liquid burn a path down your throat. They scoff and give you a dirty look, but continue dancing, throwing themselves around wildly to the music.

It’s the night of one of your best friend’s bachelorette parties, and of course, she wanted to have it in Las Vegas. And also of course, your ex boyfriend is the best man for her soon to be husband. And triple of course, they decided to crash the bachelorette party and you have now been watching another random girl grind on your ex for the past twenty minutes.

You take another drink, sighing heavily before turning back around to the bar.

“Long night already?” A voice says from behind you, deep and low.

You swing your head to the side, getting an eyeful of the very tall and very handsome man who has taken a seat at the bar. His hair is dark and straight, waving lightly over his forehead. His skin is pale, clear, and smooth, with eyes so bottomless and deep they almost look black. He is wearing a gray v-neck shirt with dark wash jeans that have rips in the knees, exposing more of his pale skin and you can’t help but notice he has bright red shoes on.

“I guess,” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink and moving it to the other side of your body. Just to be safe.

“I’ll take that it's going to be an even longer one, if your friends are all of the bachelorette girls.” He smiles with his straight teeth and full mouth. “Unless you just wanted to match with a bunch of random strangers for no reason.”

You sigh again, fingering the stupid sparkly sash around your dress with an absent finger. Your friends had insisted on wearing little black dresses and pairing them with ridiculously bright and glittering sashes that say different things. Luckily, yours is one of the more tame sayings, with “Wild Princess” printed on it in big cursive letters. You feel anything but wild. All you want to do is leave and crawl into bed with a book and sleep. Or maybe cry and try not to replay the image of your ex dancing with another girl and not giving a damn about you over and over again.

“I wish I was randomly matching,” You take another drink. “Sometimes a party of one is better than anything else.”

The mysterious stranger gives you a mischievous smile. “Parties of one are great. But parties of two are my favorite. Anything above that is just a crowd.”

You laugh despite myself, nodding along in agreement. Deciding to not sit and wallow all night, you place your hand in the space between you and introduce yourself. He takes your hand and electric currents run up your arms, pushing a shiver down your spine.

“I’m Jungkook.” He says, smiling again.

With his arm out, you can see the beginning of a tattoo curling around his bicep and under the sleeve of his shirt. Your eyes follow it, trying to decipher its long, coiling shape before he pulls back. His eyes seem alive and glowing, their almond shape crinkling in the corners as he looks at you.

You clear your throat. “What brings you here?”

“Oh you know,” he says vaguely, gesturing for the bartender. “Work.”

“This hardly seems like work,” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Semantics,” Jungkook chuckles. “I am in the entertainment business.”

He orders his drink, a clean bourbon, and then turns back to you, a secretive smile on his face. It’s like he can sense what you are going to say before it comes out of your mouth. “Movies?” You can totally imagine him in an action film.

He shakes his head.

“Television?” You guess.

He shakes his head again, thanking the bartender as he slides a drink along the counter.

“Music?” You try again.

“You’re getting warmer,” he leans in closer and you can smell the alcohol and musky scent of him. It’s almost more intoxicating than your drink. “Magic.”

“Magic?” You repeat, stupefied.

“Yes,” he sits back and your head clears. “Magic.”

“Like rabbits out of hats and throwing knives at spinning people?”

He seems to think for a second, as if actually considering your joke as a statement. “A bit more sophisticated than that, but yes. That’s the idea.”

You narrow your eyes at him, turning to face your body towards his. “Show me.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for the kind of magic I have, Princess.” He says slyly, eyes dipping to your sash again. You scoff, taking the sash off and placing it on the bar. His grin grows and he leans back into you.

You swear you can feel electricity sizzling in the space between you two, desperate to follow the high he’s bringing. “Show me,” you say again, a challenge in your voice.

“Alright,” his voice is so low you don’t know how you can hear him over the deafening music and yelling, but it’s as if there is no one else but you and him. “All of your friends are now wishing that they were in your place, when they were making fun of you for sitting here before. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you are a supportive friend and know how much it would hurt if you left early. Your boyfriend over there is thinking about punching me and wants to know who I am and why you stopped being jealous to pay attention to me.”

You blanch, trying to discreetly look to the side to see the dance floor. You can see all of your friends out there, stealing glances your way in between steps and body rolls. You can see two of them giggling and whispering, wagging their eyebrows at you as they catch your glance. Then you see your ex, no longer with the woman from before, but making his way over from across the floor, his jaw set and eyes blazing.

His angry face.

Your stomach flips, but there is some smug satisfaction in his reaction as you turn back to Jungkook. He seems completely unaffected by your oncoming ex, but is staring directly at you. You think his eyes could burn you from the inside out if you let them.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, his word ricocheting deep inside of you.

“I want to leave,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before your brain can catch up. “Can we go?”

“Of course we can, Princess.” Jungkook smiles, standing up and offering you his arm.

You gather your things and join him, careful to not meet any of your friend’s eyes as you let Jungkook walk you towards the door. Hadn’t they been pushing you to hook up all weekend? Hadn’t they been throwing you at guys and giving guys your number since the party started? And even more because of the presence of your ex?

The thought of him makes you grin and you look back to find him staring after you, clenching and unclenching his fists in agitation. Your smile widens and you can’t help but wave at him as you leave. Fuck him.

You see your friends waving and jumping up and down excitedly, practically bouncing with happiness at the new development in your boring life. Jungkook’s arm is warm and hard around yours, static and heat pooling in the best parts of you. Close up, you can see the black lines and dots of his tattoo, but still can’t make out what it is. Your brain begins to question what you’re doing. This man is a complete stranger. And you’re in Las Vegas walking out of a bar with him. Every single horror film and terrible thing to happen to a woman always starts out this way. You start to rethink your choice, opening your mouth to tell him you’re going back.

“Spend an hour with me,” Jungkook says, snagging your attention and the words from your lips. The night air is hot still, the street loud and bustling with people walking to and fro.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“One hour,” he repeats. “Spend one hour with me. If you want to go back after that, I’ll bring you.”

“One hour?” You sound like a broken record.

One hour. What can happen in one hour in one of the most crowded places in the United States? You both can just walk around, maybe get some food. One hour only has sixty minutes, after all and on the strip, that time would go by impossibly fast. Not to mention, the last thing you realistically want to do is walk the strip alone or go back into the bar without Jungkook and with your tail between your legs. You know your ex would have a field day and your friends would be so pitiful. Maybe it is about time to get wild.

“One hour.” You say definitively. A statement this time.

Jungkook leans in and you smell him again, musky and hot. “Then, I am determined to make it the best hour of your life.”

His words bring fierce shivers down your spine. What have you gotten yourself into?

Before you know it, your predictions seem to come true. A half hour passes without notice as you and Jungkook walk in and out of hotels, restaurants and bars. Jungkook asks you about your life, your hobbies, and does little magic tricks for you along the way. Pulling pennies from behind your ears and predicting cards before the dealer draws them. You’re laughing and smiling and living and noticing how beautiful he is when he smiles. How dark his eyes are and how you want to stare into them forever. How perfectly his eyebrows frame his face and how his cheekbones and jaw make him seem carved out of marble.

“Have you ever thought about playing?” You ask him after you exit Caesar’s Palace. He had correctly guessed every single card before it was shown on the table and helped one of the players win big. Although it has to be well after 2 in the morning, the night is bustling and alive. Dancers are on the sidewalks in big feathers and bikini costumes, people dressed as Disney characters and superheroes are posing for pictures, and tourists are drinking and laughing and mingling with one another.

“No,” Jungkook laughs, secrets in the sound. “I don’t need money.”

“Doesn’t everyone need money?”

Jungkook looks at you, tilting his head to the side. “There are things money can’t buy.”

“Like what?” You ask.

“Purity,” Jungkook responds. And the answer is so weird you stop walking.

“Purity?” You put your hands on your hips, half mocking him. “Like chastity?”

Jungkook moves close to you, looking down at you with those deep and confusing eyes. Your lips are part of their own volition. You want to kiss him. You want to do a lot more than kiss him.

“Not chastity,” Jungkook looks wistful. Almost sad. “Heaven. The purity of it. When you fall, you can’t buy your way back in.”

Heaven. You think to yourself, looking at this man who seems to be a fallen angel himself. Beautiful and dark and full of magic, real or not, that pulls something buried deep inside of you and brings it to the surface. You hate how sad he looks, how regretful and reproachful. You want to ease his pain, you want to give him a slice of Heaven, a slice of the world, to see him smile and his eyes crinkle again.

And hell, if you don’t want to give yourself a piece of Heaven, of him, as well.

Without thinking, you pull him into an alley between hotels. The night is hot and starless, the smell of sweat and alcohol and lowered inhibitions in the air. You don’t feel fully in control of your body, letting instinct guide you and Jungkook into the dark narrow street.

“Time is almost up,” Jungkook reminds you.

You growl in response, not even sure you know how to make such a sound. Not sure where this all consuming emotion has come from. “I don’t care.”

Reaching out for him, you slam your bodies together and crash your lips onto his. You fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a long lost puzzle you didn't even know you’d been trying to solve. You push Jungkook’s hair back, catching a glimpse of small stud earrings in his ear. The jewelry is extremely sexy and you feel even more eager than you did before to feel him.

Taking more control, Jungkook pushes you back until you hit one of the walls. You can hear the laughter and sounds of people around you on either side of the alley, walking up and down the strip and drinking. It would be so easy for someone to look in and see you both, obviously involved in much more than an innocent kiss.

He touches you and you feel like you might break a part into a million little pieces. His touch is shocking, little fires trailing behind his fingers as they roam down the bare skin of your arms. Your back arches into the stone behind your head, a moan ripping from your throat when his fingers graze the skin of your neck. Jungkook is watching you with a feral gaze, licking his lips before leaning in to run his lips and teeth over your throat. You grip the front of his shirt, desperate to feel more. To feel everything.

Jungkook crowds you closer to the wall, aligning his body to press against yours. You can feel the rises and plains of his muscle and frame through your thin dress. Your breasts peak with anticipation, a tingling sensation building low in your stomach. Jungkook hooks his hands around your thighs, the feeling of his bare skin on yours eliciting a string of curse words from your mouth. You’re ready to beg him to touch you where you need it.

Luckily you don’t have to.

Once he has you firmly against the wall, with your legs hooked around his midsection, he curves his arm around your leg and lets his fingers graze you. There is nothing blocking his touch and the contact and slickness of you seems to shock him.

“No underwear?” He nearly growls.

“It’s a matching thing,” you all but pant.

“It’s a naughty thing, Princess.” Jungkook responds, pressing his thumb directly into you. “How could I not tell before?”

You ignore his statement, aware that you’re unable to question anything he does right now. His thumb begins to move and you moan, burying your head in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. Jungkook’s other hand weaves through your hair, pulling you back against the wall so the sounds you emit echo against the narrow alley walls.

“I want to hear you,” he commands.

“But the people,” you begin to protest, knowing that even you don’t care.

“They can’t hear or see us,” he responds, a grin carving a wicked look to his features. “Like I told you: magic.”

Without warning, Jungkook slides two fingers into you, dragging the longest and deepest sound from your throat. Your hips are trying to move, begging for more friction, but he won’t give it to you. He has his body flush against yours on the wall. In complete control. You fucking love it.

His hair curls with sweat, the strands sticking to his forehead. The moisture seems to make him sparkle and glow. Like an angel on Earth. Maybe a fallen angel. He curls his fingers and strokes you, your walls clenching around his fingers with delicious pleasure.

“Shit,” he curses, sliding his fingers out. “I need to be in you. Now.”

You whine in agreement, the intensity in his words making your toes curl. Jungkook reaches in between your bodies to undo his belt, long and nimble fingers making quick work on the clasp. You want him to do wicked and horrible things with those fingers, and that belt. You want him to tie you down and make you beg for every lick of pleasure he could give you. Wild desperation begins to build in you. You could cum just from watching him. Just from seeing that pink tongue of his lick across his lips.

“Jungkook,” you groan, watching him pull his cock out.

The rational part of your brain is aware that you are both in public, with hundreds of people walking by the alley every minute. The rational part of you is aware that you can get arrested for this. That this is dangerous and irresponsible on so many levels. But the louder and reckless part of you never wants this to end. The irrational part of your brain believes him, trusts him, and trusts his magic. No one has noticed yet. Maybe luck. Maybe magic. You don’t care.

And then he is poised at your entrance and pushing into you in one, long, thrust. Your moans are incessant, no breath between the sounds. You can feel him at the back of you, you can feel him everywhere, filling you up and intoxicating you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he is groaning, deep and dark and raw.

He moves again, in and out, following an untraceable rhythm that is setting you on fire. You have never felt this alive before, this electrified, everything is you is singing with approval and building with pleasure. You didn’t know sex before this, you didn’t know how good it could feel before this. How can you ever be with anyone besides him now?

He’s going to fuck you and leave you fucked for the rest of your life.

Jungkook claims you in a kiss, his tongue roaming your mouth. He swallows your moans and sounds with shivers. Your hands reach under his shirt and travel along the rigid muscle of his stomach and shoulders. His body seems to come alive beneath the touch, skin rippling and muscle contracting.

You can feel his large intake of breath along your lips. You don’t think you’ve heard him sigh until now, or breathe at all for that matter. It’s like he has never taken air into his lungs before you touched him. And now you can’t stop. Your fingers are everywhere as he continues to fuck you. Wild. This is wild.

“Don’t stop,” you beg, breaking the contact of the kiss for breath.

Jungkook’s eyes are touching you as they roam around your face, down your neck and collarbones, over your breasts and stomach, until they settle on the point where your bodies are joined. His skin is slick with sweat. His eyes are burning with passion. The muscles of his back and taut, signaling he feels as close as you do to release.

He reaches between you and begins to rub your clit in small circles. That’s it. You’re gone. You’ve sunk so deep, you know there’s no coming back. You splinter and break a part around him, milking his cock with tight spasms until you feel him cum, as well. You cum for what feels like forever, moaning and writhing and shaking at his touch.

Jungkook’s teeth are grazing at your throat and he bites gently. You think you’re going to cum again, moaning and arching up to give him more access. He’s still in you, despite the cum you feel dripping around him and coating your thighs. Jungkook’s lips curve up and he pushes his teeth deeper into the base of your throat. You feel a sharp sting and then warm, hot blood is dripping down your collarbones and between your breasts. Jungkook lets out a gasp as your blood fills his mouth, swallowing the thick liquid like he’s a man dying of thirst. His eyes are glowing, his skin is glowing, and you swear the tattoo on his arm stretches itself out, like it's waking up after a long sleep.

“You,” he says, capturing you in a long searing kiss. You can taste your own blood. You can taste your own desire, still throbbing deep and low after he’s satisfied you. “You are my princess.”

And then, just as quickly as you were there, you’re gone. Swallowed up by a black so endless and so deep you’re not sure you’ll ever resurface. Like realizing you’ve sunk too far in the deep end of the pool and wondering if you’ll make it out. Like falling asleep and hoping you don’t wake up. And consciously, dangerously, eerily, like the color of his eyes.

You’ve met Satan on the strip.

And your hour is now eternity.

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

~Admin Eggplant

1K notes · View notes

nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: Again, just a reminder that all the information I have about covid restrictions in Massachusetts is from google, not first hand experience, so if something seems wrong please just go with it.

Part Three

______

Part Four

If avoiding difficult conversations was an Olympic sport then it's pretty safe to say that I would have earned myself a gold medal by the end of the following week. It wasn't all that hard to do though as the exhaustion from parenting during a pandemic was hitting us both. Especially because the weather for the first couple of weeks of April was abysmal. It was cold, stormy and raining almost every day and we were all getting quite stir crazy from being inside constantly - especially our lively and spirited child.

So, it was a massive relief when the sun finally came out.

It was also a relief that it lined up with Grayson's third birthday.

He was going to have a very different birthday than previous years - as most people would over the next few months - but we wanted him to have fun and he was quickly tiring of all the indoor activities that we could come up with.

We set the living room up the night before after he'd gone to bed, putting up a birthday banner with several clusters of balloons, and there was quite the mountain of presents in the corner as most of our family members had sent their gifts in advance. I had hoped to wake up before him, but when I woke up to excited cheers and Dodger barking from downstairs, I knew I was too late. A quick glance at my phone told me that it was only six thirty, but clearly the excitement had gotten him up earlier than normal.

"Whoa, Dodger, Grayson, shhhh," I heard Chris warn the pair of them, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

I smiled and quickly climbed out of bed. Chris wouldn't let him open any presents without me, I knew that, but I didn't want to keep him waiting for too long.

When I got downstairs, a very excited Grayson was bouncing on the couch as Chris sat next to him, watching him closely with a smile on his face.

"Happy birthday!" I cheered, catching his attention.

He sprang off the couch and bolted towards me.

"Thanks, Mama," He shouted, throwing his arms around my legs and looking up at me. "I'm three!"

"You are!" I smiled as I knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug. "You're such a big boy now."

He let me squeeze him for another moment or two before wiggling free.

"Can I open presents?"

Chris laughed at his clear priorities, shaking his head as I stood up.

"Let's just wait for Uncle Scott," he suggested before glancing up at me. "He's putting the coffee on."

"Very smart," I nodded. "I think we're all going to need plenty of that today."

Grayson proved my point by grabbing at his balloons and waving them frantically, setting Dodger off barking again.

"Dodge!" Chris scolded. "It's just a balloon, buddy. Chill."

The poor overwhelmed dog hung his head and came over to me for some sympathy. I happily obliged, cooing some comforting words and rubbing his back.

"Gray, leave the balloons, okay?" I requested. "I don't think Dodger likes them."

Grayson frowned, but instantly let go of the balloon in his hand.

"Sorry, Dodger."

"It sounds like we have quite the party in here already," Scott commented as he sauntered into the room. "Shall we see what's in some of these boxes?"

"Yes! Yes!" Grayson cheered, running over to the presents. "What first?"

"Whatever you want," I told him, smiling as I went to sit on the couch next to Chris. "Do you need some help?"

"No, I can do it!" He insisted, making a bee line for the biggest box and quickly ripping the paper off.

We watched as he opened gift after gift, an ear to ear grin on his face the whole time. Just as he was at Christmas, he was incredibly grateful for every present from the Paw Patrol Lookout Tower that was almost as tall as he was to the dinosaur books that were more educational than flashy and fun.

But there was one gift at the bottom of the pile that Chris wasn't particularly impressed by. The one that my brother had sent.

Grayson opened it, pulling out a t-shirt first.

"What does it say?" He asked, holding up the shirt towards us.

Chris' jaw dropped as I stifled my giggles and Scott burst out laughing.

"It says 'Team Iron Man'," I read. "Remember how Uncle Rob was in a movie with Daddy where they had a big fight? Iron Man was Uncle Rob's character and I think Uncle Jack wants you to be on that team."

"Oh," Grayson smiled. "Okay!"

"Okay?!" Chris protested. "You don't want to be on my team?"

Grayson shrugged as he pulled something else out of the box from my brother.

"Look!" He shouted, his excitement clear as he held up a very fancy electronic Iron Man helmet. "I love it!"

I wasn't even sure that he knew what it was as he hadn't seen any of the movies yet, but his enthusiasm compared to Chris' displeasure was killing Scott and I.

"Oh, it's such a shame that your brother wasted his money," Chris said, his words dripping with sarcasm as he had a forced look of pity on his face. "Those things are expensive and Grayson is never going to wear it."

"I'll wear it!"

Grayson's insistence was followed by him putting the helmet on his head and another howl of laughter came from Scott as a look of betrayal crossed Chris' face.

"Your brother is a jerk."

His words were quiet so Grayson wouldn't hear and I smiled.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "We're an Iron Man family..."

Chris shot me a glare, but turned his attention back to Gray.

"Well, if you don't want to be on my team then I guess I'll just have to find someone else to have the last present that I got for you..."

Chris was teasing, but Grayson whipped off the helmet faster than we could blink. He looked around, a puzzled expression on his face when he couldn't see anymore boxes on the floor and I shared his confusion as I wasn't aware of anymore gifts either. But the Evans brothers exchanged a knowing glance and I knew they were up to something.

"Maybe Miles would like it," Scott suggested. "He loves Captain America."

"Me too!" Grayson insisted, tossing the helmet aside as if it hadn't been his new prized possession moments ago. "He's my favourite!"

"Oh, is he now?" Chris laughed. "Doesn't take much to make you change your mind, does it?"

Grayson shook his head, oblivious to the fact that he was being teased, but Chris didn't torture him for too long.

"Alright, do you want to see what it is?"

"Yes, I do!"

Grayson leapt up, bouncing up and down with excitement, making Chris laugh as he stood up from the couch.

"C'mon then," he told Grayson, nodding his head towards the door. "It's this way."

Grayson scurried after his dad and I followed, my own curiosity piqued as well.

"What is it?" I asked Scott, but he just shot me a smirk.

"You'll see in a second."

I narrowed my eyes at his secrets and paused at the front door where Chris was waiting for us, his hand on the door knob as Grayson practically vibrated with excitement.

"Okay, close your eyes," Chris instructed. "No peeking!"

"I won't, I won't!"

Grayson covered his eyes as an extra assurance and Chris' grin widened even more as he swung open the door. I put my hands on Grayson's shoulders and guided him through it, seeing a shiny blue bike with a big bow on the handlebars. I felt a flash of worry at all the potential ways for Grayson to get hurt riding it, but there was no time to dwell on that as Chris told him to open his eyes and he gasped with excitement.

"A bike!" He squealed with joy, leaping off the doorstep and running towards it.

He circled it for a moment as if he was really trying to take it all in while I looked up at Chris.

"There better be a helmet with this present," I warned him. "I'm already imagining broken bones and missing teeth."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me with a chuckle. "It has training wheels, but of course I got him a helmet."

I opened my mouth, ready to share some more potential disasters that could come from this - because even with training wheels he could still fall off or lose control and crash into a tree - but Grayson cut me off.

"Help me, Daddy! Help me!"

He was trying to climb onto the seat, but as I took in the sight of him barefoot in his pyjamas standing in the driveway, I stopped Chris as he moved towards him.

"Wait, why don't we have breakfast first?" I suggested. "We have all day to play on your bike, but you're not dressed or even wearing shoes..."

Grayson's face fell and I felt bad being the mean parent, but Chris nodded in agreement.

"Your Ma's right, Gray," he told him. "Let's go get ready and then we can come right back outside, okay?"

Grayson looked sulky, but reluctantly agreed as he walked back over to us.

"Hey now," Scott said, catching his attention. "No pouting on your birthday! We've got some chocolate chip pancakes to make! Unless that sad face means you don't want them anymore?"

His previous smile slid instantly back onto his face at the promise of such a sugary breakfast and the pep returned to his step as he grabbed Scott's hand before dragging him into the house.

I had no evidence to prove my theory, but by the time breakfast was over, I was almost certain that it would have been more relaxing to be in the middle of a hurricane. There was pancake batter all over the room and we practically had to pin Grayson to his chair to stop him from sprinting around the room with food in his mouth. It was a miracle that he got through the meal without choking.

It was impossible to be mad though when he was having such a good time. He'd had so much to adjust to lately, seeing him happy on his birthday was all that I wanted and I was willing to put up with a little more chaos than normal if it made that happen. Within reason, of course. I did stop him when he suggested that we put the entire bag of chocolate chips in the pancake batter and I did make him help me clean them up when he dumped them on the floor in protest of my ridiculous restrictions.

Once the breakfast circus was over, Chris whisked him off to get him ready to play outside while I helped Scott clean up the kitchen before going upstairs to shower and get ready myself.

When I came back down almost an hour later, I felt considerably less frazzled, but the sound of excited squeals and giggles echoing from outside told me the energy levels hadn't died down much. It really was a relief that he was having such a nice day though so I braced myself for more chaos and headed out to find them.

The sight that greeted me melted my heart completely.

Chris was running backwards across the driveway as Grayson rode towards him. He shouted encouragement the entire time, reminding him to keep pedaling and to look where he was going and cheering as Grayson rode past him before turning around and circling back.

"Look, Mama!" He shouted to me as he spotted me by the door. "I'm doing it!"

"You are, baby!" I smiled. "Good job!"

I sat on the doorstep and watched him ride in circles, proud of how fast he'd figured it out, but after a few moments, my attention turned to Chris.

There were few times since I'd known him when I'd seen him look as happy as he did in that moment. When Grayson was born, when he took his first steps and when he first said 'Dada' were probably the only comparable moments I could think of. He looked absolutely gleeful as he chased after Grayson, laughing as he passed him before dodging a different way and waiting for Gray to catch up before bolting off again. The sound of their giggles and shouts filled my heart so much that it genuinely felt like it was about to burst out of my chest and a feeling of contentedness hit me so hard that it almost knocked over.

It was a feeling that told me that they were all I ever needed. Those two boys, making each other dizzy as they ran in circles. Their happiness and love was all I could ever hope to have and moments like these were all I ever wanted to see. I wanted us to spend every weekend soaking in this kind of joy. I didn't want to fight and argue and transport Grayson back and forth every other week. I wanted to give Grayson what he deserved, I wanted us to be a family.

But as fast as that clarity hit me, the knots in my stomach were there to remind me that it wasn't just about what I wanted. It wasn't about what would bring us the most moments of delight, it was about what would provide Grayson with the most stability and being a family might do more harm to that goal than good.

It was a constant battle between my heart and my head, but I was starting to realize that my head was losing. I was clinging to my resistance with all I had, but it was slipping away. I knew I needed to talk to Chris, to sort out the fog in my brain, but for the time being, I pushed it out of my mind. This was Grayson's day and we didn't have time for anymore heart-wrenching conversations.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Scott appeared from the side of the house on roller blades and the unexpected sight pulled a laugh from my lips as he sailed past Chris and Grayson and headed down the driveway.

"Gray, follow me!"

Gray nodded, frantically pedaling to catch up with his uncle as they sped off down the long drive. Chris watched them for a minute before jogging over to me.

"He got it so fast," he puffed as he fought to catch his breath. "He's a natural."

"The training wheels help," I pointed out, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him. "But it's fine because he'll be keeping those on until he's at least eighteen."

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

"No way," he smirked. "We'll have them off by next week."

"Not a chance. I need at least six months to get used to that idea."

"How about we meet in the middle and aim for three?"

"Hmm, maybe," I bit back a smile. "We'll have to see how many injuries he gets with the training wheels on first."

"He'll be fine. He's a champ," Chris grinned proudly. "We've got a pretty great kid."

"We do," I patted the step next to me as I made room for Chris to sit down. "I can't believe he's already three."

Chris accepted my silent invitation and sat down next to me.

"I know," he sighed. "It feels like just yesterday that he was born..."

"He was so tiny," I reminisced. "And you had those huge Captain America muscles."

Chris laughed as he nodded at the memory.

"I was so scared to hold him in case I accidentally crushed him."

"I was so scared of everything," I admitted. "It wasn't until he was actually born that it really hit me that we were completely responsible for his well-being and keeping him alive."

"We've done well with that though!"

"We have," I agreed with a smile. "He's alive and thriving."

"We make a good team."

He flashed me a warm smile that made my heart beat stutter and it almost stopped completely when he stretched out a hand and placed it on mine. His touch was gentle and the warmth of his skin flooded through me even more than the sun streaming down on us. It was a simple gesture, but it eased the heaviness that had been hovering between us lately and I was grateful. I carefully flipped my hand over so our palms pressed together and let our fingers interlace. His smile widened as he looked back out at the driveway, his eyes settling on Grayson in the distance who was laughing at something Scott said.

"Thank you," Chris sighed, his voice quiet and filled with genuine appreciation. "I don't think I've ever said it, but thank you for making me a dad."

His words almost brought tears to my eyes, but I shook my head.

"Chris, you don't need to than-"

"I do," he insisted, cutting me off. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me and he wouldn't be here without you."

"I could say the same," I pointed out, trying to ignore the way his thumb was stroking the back of my hand. "He gets most of his good traits from you too. His kind heart, his sensitive little soul, his loyalty."

"His infuriating stubbornness."

"He gets that from both of us," I smiled. "He didn't stand a chance with that one."

"Well, I hope he gets some of your selflessness," Chris informed me, glancing over and looking a tad sheepish. "Because, as much as I disagree with it and I wish you'd be a little selfish, I get that you're trying to look out for him."

I felt my palms start to sweat and I wondered if he could feel it. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away from his, trying to play it cooler than I felt. He was watching me closely as I mulled over his words until I found the strength to speak.

"I'm not so sure that it's just him that I'm trying to look out for," I admitted, exhaling a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. "I do think we have more to talk about, Chris, but I don't think this is the right time."

"You're right," he nodded. "I just felt like I owed you an apology after the other night. I let my feelings get the best of me and I came across a little harsh."

I was about to reassure him that he hadn't when the sound of honking interrupted our conversation. Our attention was pulled to the end of the driveway where two cars - belonging to Chris' mom and his sister - were pulling in as Scott moved Grayson and Dodger off to the side to let them past.

"Did you know they were coming?" I asked, surprised by the little motorcade.

"Nah, I had no idea," Chris shrugged. "We'll stay outside though, keep our distance."

I wasn't worried about that really, I knew all of Chris' family were staying very isolated and being smart about staying safe and we were technically allowed to have outdoor gatherings of up to ten people anyway with the current rules in place. I was surprised to see them though as we'd warned Grayson that he would only get to see most of his family over FaceTime. His excitement at that being untrue was clear as he frantically pedaled back up the driveway to greet his guests.

"Mama! Daddy! Look!"

I let Chris' hand fall away from mine as we stood, smiling at Grayson's excitement as everyone started getting out of their cars. They burst into a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday' making Gray's grin grow even more.

"Happy birthday, Grayson!" Lisa beamed as Grayson ran towards her full speed. He threw his arms around her legs before we could even remind him to keep his distance, but Lisa seemed unbothered by it. "Have you had a good day so far?"

"Yes!" Gray smiled up at her. "I got a bike!"

"I saw that!" Lisa matched his enthusiasm. "You're a lucky boy!"

Grayson shot her another smile before turning his attention to his cousins.

"Wanna try?"

His older cousins were probably too big, but Stella's hand shot up first and beat them to it anyway.

"That's really nice of you to share," I called over to Grayson. "But share your helmet too, okay?"

He nodded and struggled with the clip for a few minutes before Lisa helped him take it off and placed it on her granddaughter's head.

Once they were all happy, chasing Stella and Dodger around the drive way, the adults moved over towards us. Lisa was the first to speak, a guilty look on her face.

"I hope you don't mind us just showing up like this, but we couldn't stay away on his birthday..."

"It's great!" Chris assured her. "Don't worry about it."

"And Grayson seems thrilled," I added. "It's nice for him to have other kids to run around with for a bit."

We all turned to watch them as they played until Carly let out a laugh.

"Are Grayson's shoes on the wrong feet?"

I hadn't even noticed, but I laughed as well when I realized that she was right.

"Some days just getting him in shoes at all is a victory," Chris defended himself. "And today was one of those days."

"He's like the energizer bunny this morning," Scott joked. "I can't imagine what he'll be like after we get some cake into him."

"Just think how well he'll sleep tonight," Carly pointed out. "He has to crash eventually."

"I hope so," Chris smiled. "He had me up at six o'clock this morning, I need an early night."

That earned a laugh from the group as his siblings teased him about being such an old man, but I felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing that he'd been up early with Grayson a lot lately. Maybe it was because we were at his house so it was what Gray was used to, but Chris was definitely the favourite for the early morning wake up call.

We stood in our little circle for a while, just catching up as we watched the kids, all of us enjoying conversation with someone other than the people we were locked up with twenty-four hours a day. It was nice for me to have some female company as well even though Lisa was very pleased to hear that her boys were pulling their weight around the house and not just treating me like some kind of live-in maid.

It didn't take long for the kids to get tired of sharing the bike, especially the older boys who were too big for it anyway, and soon they were swarming around us demanding that we all play a game. After being cooped up for so long, it didn't seem like a bad idea to get us all moving around a little so we agreed and set about the daunting task of finding something everyone was willing to play.

Eventually, we settled on capture the flag - girls against boys. Lisa decided she'd make a better referee than a player so the boys team had one extra member, but they had three children to our one so it hardly seemed like the extra person would cause any unbalance.

The rules of the game were simple: each team had three flags in our 'end zone' at opposite ends of the large grassy part of Chris' yard and the other team had to try to steal those flags. We had to grab it and run it all the way back to our own end zone to score a point, but once it was safely 'captured' it couldn't be stolen back. If someone managed to snatch a flag, but was tagged on their way back to their end zone then they had to give the flag back.

Lisa was very firm in reminding her children that tackling was not allowed as the Evans siblings were fiercely competitive and it had apparently led to trouble over the years. Once the rules were all set, we took our places and started the game.

The teams were fairly evenly matched. The boys had more strength, but we had more agility and were much better at communicating and working together which led to us easily scoring the first point. While Stella distracted Scott, Carly snuck past him to snatch the flag and she tossed it to Shanna who faked a pass to Stella before throwing it to me to get it to the safe zone. It was a beautifully executed play that showed the boys we weren't messing around.

"Oh, it's on now," Chris called out as he sprinted past me.

Shanna bolted after him, but he managed to grab the flag and throw it to Ethan before she caught up. With all the other boys guarding him, he made it all the way back to their end zone without getting tagged.

"I think having a super soldier on your team is an unfair advantage ," Carly huffed, but Chris shook his head with a smirk.

"Nah, because we have Scott too so it balances out."

"Hey!" Scott protested. "I'll switch teams if you're going to be rude!"

Stella jumped for joy at that idea, pleading with him to come onto our side, but the rest of the boys voiced their protests and he decided that, as long as there was no more hurtful comments, he would stick to his team for now. I used their bickering as a distraction though as I snuck closer towards their unguarded flags. I managed to grab one before Scott noticed and called out a warning to the rest of his team, but when I took off running and Grayson charged towards me, I didn't have the heart to out run him on his special day. I slowed down enough that he wouldn't realize I was letting him win and groaned dramatically as he tagged me, making me give up the flag.

"I did it!" He cheered. "Daddy! Did you see? I did it!"

Stella had a disappointed scowl on her face, but everyone else was understanding as they watched Chris scoop him up onto his shoulders, chanting his name as if he'd just won the World Cup while he carried him back to replace the flag.

Their celebration was short-lived though as we managed to steal the flag again almost as soon as Chris and Grayson were far enough away from it. After another perfectly executed play, the score was sitting at 2-1 for us. The pressure was on after that as we only needed one more point to win, it ramped up the competitive spirit.

We were off to a great start in the next round. Shanna got the flag quickly, but Scott had her cornered almost immediately so she tossed it to me. I got about ten steps before Chris was on my heels and I was forced to throw it over to Carly. Chris turned and went to chase after her instead and without even thinking, I leapt on his back to stop him.

"Hey!" He protested, slowing to a stop despite how he was clearly unaffected by my weight. "Is anyone seeing this? This has got to be a foul! She tackled me!"

"I did not tackle you!" I insisted, clinging to his shoulders with my legs wrapped around his waist. "If it was a tackle, you'd be on the ground."

Chris wiggled around, trying to throw me off his back as Carly sauntered into our end zone with the flag.

"The only reason I'm not on the ground is because you're too weak," Chris argued before shouting to his mom. "That doesn't count!

"No, Mama," Grayson joined in, running over to us looking very disapproving. "No cheating!"

I laughed, but slid down from Chris' back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" I held my hands up as I apologized. "I can't outrun Captain America, I had no choice!"

"Well, now you lost the point," Chris teased me, shoving me playfully and making me stumble a step away from him. "So, lets keep it fair and stop trying to cheat."

I swatted back at him as I stuck out my tongue while Lisa made the official call that the point didn't count and Scott took the recently captured flag back to the boy's end zone.

Chris had a new twinkle in his eye as the next round started. He hadn't let me get very far away from him and I quickly realized that I'd made a mistake by antagonizing him. I would be useless to my team if he was on my tail the whole time, but he was a tank and incredibly fast so getting away from him was next to impossible. I watched helplessly as Scott and Miles easily took our flag and dashed it back to their end zone to tie the score.

"Chris!" I whined as I tried to get around him like I was a cornered puppy, trying not to get caught. "Get away from me, you big oaf!"

"Oh, wow," Chris chuckled. "Let's not start calling names and being mean."

I tried to dart past him again, but groaned as he blocked my path.

"You're infuriating!"

"It's all part of the game."

The smirk on Chris' face had my competitive side firing up as I could see behind him that Miles had snatched our last flag. Stella was hot on his heels though, so he had no choice, but to pass to Grayson who was coming our way. Was I going to stop my three year old son from scoring the game winning point on his birthday? Probably not. But I had to at least make my attempt genuine so I came up with a plan.

"Is that..." I squinted off into the distance on the other side of the yard. "Is that Dodger chasing a cat?"

My Oscar worthy performance had Chris spinning around to check out what I saw and it gave me enough time to bolt away towards Grayson who wasn't far away from winning the game for his team. I made it an impressive five steps before Chris figured out what I'd done and came after me. Grayson saw what was happening and dodged to the left so I followed, but my change of direction gave Chris an opportunity. The next thing I knew, I felt a crash against my hips before I was lifted from the ground and found myself dangling over Chris' shoulder.

I let out a squeal of surprise as I kicked my legs, trying to get down, but Chris had a tight grip on me and there was no getting away. The ease with which he threw me around wasn't at all distracting and there wasn't a single part of me that was revelling in his strength. Not at all.

"This is absolutely a tackle!" I protested, focusing my mind back onto my predicament. "Put me down!"

"If this was a tackle, you'd be on the ground," he mocked me. "This is payback."

I had a nice view, my head only inches above 'America's ass' so, swept up in the moment of playfulness between us, I reached down and gave it a smack. He yelped and jumped, shaking me as he did.

"Chris! Put me down!"

My demands were weakened by the giggles that I couldn't hold back, but thankfully Scott stepped in to help me regain some dignity.

"Alright, you two," he called over. "Can we get back to the game now or would you like us all to give you some time alone?"

A blush covered my cheeks as I remembered that his entire family was around us and was relieved when he lowered me to the ground.

"Games over," Chris called back. "Grayson scored!"

Grayson jumped up and down happily, but Stella had a scowl on her face.

"Nuh uh! When Whitney tackled you, it didn't count!" She pointed out. "Grayson's point doesn't count too!"

The joy on Grayson's face fell into a look of anger as he stomped his foot at his cousin’s claim.

"It does!" He insisted. "I did it!"

"Now look what you've done," I playfully scolded Chris quietly before shouting to the rest of the group. "I think we're going to have to let them have the point, ladies. I wouldn't have been able to catch up to Grayson even if Chris didn't cheat..."

Stella's jaw dropped in clear shock that I hadn't supported her protests, but to stop the war before it could start, Chris chimed in.

"Grayson didn't need my help to score that point, I shouldn't have interfered," he started. "But why don't we call it a game and go have some cake?!"

The promise of sugar seemed to quash any animosity between the teams as all the kids let out a shriek of approval at that suggestion and took off running back to the house.

"Oh, yes," Carly sighed. "Because what my children clearly need right now is more energy..."

"It's Gray's birthday," Chris shrugged with a smile as we all followed the children at a much more reasonable pace. "We have to have cake!"

"And if it wasn't his birthday then I wouldn't have let you win."

My taunting earned a bark of laughter from Chris.

"Let us win? Yeah, sure, okay. You just keep telling yourself that you're faster and stronger than me," he teased. "Whatever makes you feel better."

I shoved him, but he was braced for it and I ended up more affected by the impact than him which proved his point, putting a smirk on his face.

"Asshole," I muttered as I shook my head, but I couldn't hold back a smile at how nice our affectionate teasing felt.

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. It had been a fun and very special day for Grayson so we were thrilled for him, but exhausted nonetheless. Gray fought his bedtime with all the will power he had, eager for the day to go on just a little bit longer, but we won out in the end and he made it to bed on time. Scott had gone to his own room while we were fighting with him and Chris and I parted ways shortly after to get some much needed quiet time of our own.

I found myself distracted though, when I was finally alone, as the importance of the day had me feeling sentimental. Watching Grayson grow up and hit these milestones was a joy, but it left me feeling a bit reminiscent of the years gone by. Years when he was even smaller than he was now, just starting to figure out the world and how to speak, walk and be a part of it. The time was really flying by and as I began to scroll through old videos of his first year of life, the nostalgia was almost too much to bear.

Eventually, I stumbled on a video that had distinct parallels of today.

It was a video of Grayson's first birthday when we'd given him his own little cake and let him go to town on it. Of course, as many babies do, he'd stared at it for a moment before smashing his face directly into it. It was adorable and tugged on my heart strings considering how comparatively neat his cake consumption was earlier that day. He'd grown so much in such a short time and I felt compelled to share my discovery with Chris so I dragged myself out of bed and crept down to his room.

There was a fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I knocked on his bedroom door, the feeling only growing as he called out an invitation to come inside. I did as he'd asked and let myself in, finding him leaning back against the headboard of his bed - wearing nothing but his pajama pants - with his own phone in his hand.

"Hey," he smiled. "What's up?"

"I found a video," I told him, standing awkwardly near the foot of his bed. "I was feeling a little sad about how fast Gray is growing up so I was looking back, watching old videos and I found one that I thought you might like to see."

Chris’ smile widened and he eagerly patted the bed next to him, encouraging me to sit. I took him up on his offer and settled in as I unlocked my phone and started the video.

"He was so little..."

Chris' observation came as the camera settled on Gray where he sat in his high chair. Chris was right next to him, a grin on his face as he chatted happily to our son despite the nonsense babble that he got in response. I appeared on the screen after a few moments, carrying a tiny cake as everyone started to sing Happy Birthday. Grayson had a look of confusion on his face as he looked around at the crowd, but his eyes widened when the cake was placed in front of him.

"Go on, Gray," I prompted once the singing had stopped. "You can taste it."

He needed no more encouragement and simply face planted right into it, popping up a moment later with blue icing from the tops of his eyebrows to the bottom of his chin. He had a huge, cheeky grin on his face as he looked at us and, just as he did in the video, Chris laughed next to me.

"Oh, man, it kills you, doesn't it?" He questioned before clarifying. "How cute he is."

I hadn't realized that Chris' arm had found its way behind me when he leaned in to watch until I felt his breath on my hair as he spoke and I couldn't resist leaning back, tucking myself under his shoulder. The whole day, the knowledge that my baby was growing up, had me needing some comfort. It was exciting, to see him learn and shift from a baby to a little person, but at the same time, I felt the overwhelming urge for time to stop.

"It does," I agreed, letting my phone fall to the bed beside me. "I can't believe how much he's changed since then."

"In some ways," Chris agreed, looking down at me with a smirk. "In others, he's still that goofy, reckless baby."

"If he's anything like you, he'll probably never grow out of being goofy and reckless."

I felt Chris' shoulders shake as he chuckled at my teasing and I was reminded of the last time we'd been cuddled up, in a similar position to this, in his bed. I felt a flood of warmth run through my body at the memory as I was suddenly aware of how close we were, aware of how good he smelt and how strong his hard muscled arm felt as I leaned against it.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one," I assured him. "I like that you're goofy. Your recklessness used to give me anxiety sometimes, when you'd always insist that you just had to do your own stunts on Captain America as if you really thought you were a super soldier, but I like that you're willing to take risks."

"Awe, gee, Whitney," he teased, squeezing me closer against him. "It was nice of you to worry about me."

"Of course I worried," I rolled my eyes. "Your muscles are bigger than your brain sometimes."

"Not anymore..." Chris held up the arm that wasn't currently around me and flexed his muscles, showing off a bicep that was still much larger than most even if it wasn't quite up to the Avengers standard. "I'm out of shape."

Against my own best interest, I turned slightly, letting my hand drift up towards his arm as my head fell against his chest. I traced over the bulging muscle and watched as tiny goosebumps rose up on his skin at the sensation. Skin that felt so soft under my touch and I felt his breath shift as he clearly felt the mood between us change the same way that I did. I felt emboldened by how amorous our emotional day had left me as I let my head tip back to find him looking down at me with the same intensity he had a few months ago.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help myself. Despite every alarm bell going off inside my brain, I stretched up just enough to press my lips against his. For a moment, he relaxed. His shoulders dropped as my fingers curled around the arm they were just stroking, but then suddenly his entire body tensed as if he'd been shocked by a bolt of electricity. He jerked away, sliding out from under me and off the bed before I could even realize what was happening.

"No," he said firmly, pointing his finger at me the same way he did to Dodger when he was being naughty. "No, no, we're not doing this again. Not until we talk about it what's going on here."

I felt the sting of rejection so harshly that it almost brought tears to my eyes, but I knew he was right.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked out, my cheeks burning. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that."

My voice was shaking as I scrambled to stand up, the stunned look on Chris' face only adding to my embarrassment. We stood there, staring at each other with the bed between us, but he didn't speak and after a few moments of silence, my shame was overwhelming, kicking my flight instincts into gear.

"I'll go," I mumbled. "Sorry again."

I didn't wait for a response before darting towards the door, but Chris' voice stopped me before I could make my escape.

"Whitney, stop." He didn't shout, but his tone was firm and demanding enough that I froze on the spot. "We need to talk about this. We can't keep going on with it hanging above our heads."

I turned to face him, discovering that he'd moved closer and was standing by the foot of the bed. He was still a few feet away from me, but close enough that it felt almost suffocating and I bit my lip as I stared at his feet, unable to look him in the eye.

"I don't know what to say..."

"I can take it," he insisted, a hint of resignation in voice as he continued. "You've had plenty of time to think it over since our last conversation and you said earlier today that we needed to talk. If you're gonna turn me down, put whatever this is to bed, just do it now and get it over with."

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his words, my heart beating in my chest so fast that I could hear the blood pumping through my ears.

"Turn you down?" I questioned. "Why do you think I'm going to turn you down? I just kissed you."

"That didn't mean much at Christmas."

He had a very valid point and I felt another pang of guilt at how badly I was treating him. I was hot and cold, affectionate and withdrawn, unwavering in my decision one minute and unsteady the next. I hadn't spared much thought to how cruel that was and now that I'd realized, I couldn't hold back the frustrated groan that fell from my lips.

"I don't know what to do, Chris! I think I know what the right decision is. It's what always felt like the safer choice, but then there are times when that's just..." I paused, taking in a deep breath to work up a dash of courage. "It's not what I want."

Chris watched me closely as if choosing his next words very carefully.

"If the safer choice isn't what you want then it sounds like maybe you need to take a risk. You can't live your life making decisions out of fear."

My eyes narrowed. He was over simplifying the situation. That way of thinking might work if it was just the two of us, but with Gray in the middle, things were more complicated.

"It's not that straight forward."

I shook my head as I spoke, but Chris countered with a nod.

"Sure, it is," he shrugged before asking a question that almost stopped my heart. "Do you love me?"

I stared at him, opening my mouth to speak and then closing it again when the words didn't come. I stood there, gaping at him like some kind of ridiculous puffer fish, until I finally got a word out.

"What?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face at my floundering as he repeated the question.

"Do you love me?" He asked. "And don't say it doesn't matter or it's not important. Just yes or no."

I stared at him for a moment longer as a war between my head and heart raged inside me. Deny, deny, deny was what my head was screaming, but in the end the quiet reminder of now or never from my heart was what won out.

"Yes, I do," I admitted, proud of my voice for not breaking. "I always have."

There was a grin on Chris' face now, but my stomach churned because it didn't mean anything. As I said, I'd loved him all along and yet here we were, no better off.

"That's all that matters then," he insisted. "We can figure out the rest."

"But what if we can't figure it out?" I protested, crossing my arms as if I could somehow fold into myself and disappear completely. "What if it's nice for a while and then it all comes crashing down around us? What about Gray?"

He shrugged again. His whole demeanour miles away from my own. He seemed confident, hopeful, almost excited while I felt nauseous, terrified and paralyzed by fear.

"But what if it doesn't? What if it all works out nicely? Why are you so convinced that we wouldn't last?"

"Because you're you," I reminded him, my tone flat as I stated the obvious. "Hollywood super star, Chris Evans. And I'm me, a boring nobody. You could have pretty much any famous actress you want, the only person who wants to be with me is the creepy maintenance worker in our apartment building."

Chris looked taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What? I've never heard about this guy."

"He's just some weird guy who does the repairs," I shrugged. "He comments on my outfits and looks at me in this way that makes my skin crawl, but he's harmless."

"Doesn't sound harmless to me," Chris argued, crossing his arms as a thunderous look settled on his face. "Does he have access to your place?"

"No!" I assured him, but after my quick answer I realized that I wasn't so sure. "Well, I don't know. He might have a spare key, I guess. If most maintenance people do? They have to give me notice before they enter the apartment anyway."

"Unless he's sneaking in to perv on you."

"Chris! That's gross!" I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Why would you put that thought in my head?!"

"I told you that you should have let me buy you a house," Chris huffed. "You're moving when all this covid shit is over."

"Oh my god," I groaned having flashbacks to our conversation a few weeks ago about him buying me a car. "All of this is so beside the point! We're talking about how you'd get bored of me and leave me heartbroken for some flashy Hollywood babe, remember?"

"Right," Chris nodded, letting his arms fall to his side. "But that's such a ridiculous idea that I thought it was hardly worth acknowledging."

His dismissal of one of my biggest fears sent a flash of anger through me.

"How is it ridiculous?" I snapped. "It's true!"

"You know me, Whitney," Chris sighed. "You know that my team had to practically force me into doing Captain America because I had one foot out the door of the whole acting gig and I hated the way Hollywood made me feel. Do you really think that I would give up a chance at a having family with you, someone who I really care about, for some wild, short-lived fling?"

His tone conveyed his disbelief, but he hadn't quite accurately interpreted what I meant.

"I think you'd regret it," I clarified. "I think that once the initial excitement wore off, you'd see that I'm nothing special and that I don't fit in your world."

Chris was looking at me as if I'd grown an extra head and I crossed my arms a little tighter around myself.

"We were friends long before Grayson came around and I've always thought that you were something special. Where is all this insecurity coming from, Whitney? Because I just don't get it."

I swallowed hard as I bit my lip. I felt incredibly vulnerable and the urge to run away and continue ignoring all my feelings seemed much preferable to standing here and analyzing them all, but I stayed strong. We were both adults and this was the only way to move forward. Whether it ended how Chris wanted or not, he deserved to know how I felt.

"I spent a long time convincing myself that you didn't care about me as anything more than a friend. I told myself that it was an insane idea because we're in two very different leagues so there was no point getting my hopes up. Then that night happened and I thought that maybe I'd been wrong, that it could be the start of a really good thing, but then you were gone by the time I woke up and you never called."

I barely choked out the last few words as I fought back the tears that were swimming in my eyes. An unmistakable look of guilt flashed onto Chris' face and he opened his mouth to comment, perhaps to defend himself, but I held up a hand to stop him. I needed to get it out or I never would.

"Then three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant," I continued. "I assumed from your silence that you didn't want to be with me and I knew that we were good together as friends so I kept my feelings to myself and spent the last three and a half years beating myself up for thinking for even one second that you would want to be with me."

"I did want to be with you..."

Chris was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes that he'd mastered and I sniffled as a tear slipped down my cheek.

"I know that now, but I can't just turn those thoughts off."

Chris sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before holding out his arms.

"C'mere."

I shook my head, wiping my tears as I worried that I'd fall apart completely if I stepped into his arms, but when he persisted and gestured me over again, I couldn't resist. I took the few steps needed to close the space between us and let my arms slide around his waist. He hugged me close to his body, burying his face in my hair as pressed mine into his muscled chest. We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot," he apologized, his words muffled by my hair. "I should have fought for you. At the very least, I should have stayed until you woke up and I should have called, but I was scared too."

I felt more tears fill my eyes as I choked out a soft "I know".

Another silence fell between us before Chris spoke again, his words making my heart almost stop completely.

"I was going to propose." I pulled back at that confession, my eyes wide as I looked up at him unable to process his words fast enough to speak before he continued. "I called my mom up as soon as you told me you were pregnant. I wanted her to help me pick out a ring, but she talked me out of it. Said you'd think I was doing it for all the wrong reasons."

My heart fluttered back to life at the sincerity in his admission, but I nodded my head.

"Your mom is a smart lady," I told him. "I absolutely would have thought you were only doing it because you felt you had to."

"It wasn't out of obligation though," he insisted. "Maybe I was getting a bit ahead of myself leaping straight to marriage, but I cared about you. It was an opportunity to make it official, make that commitment and be a family. That's what I wanted."

I stayed quiet, resting my head back against his chest as I tried to take in all this new information. It was a lot to process especially when it directly contradicted the belief I had clung to for so long - that Chris and I would never work and for Grayson's sake we were better off apart. That assumption was so deeply embedded in my brain that it was hard to find the courage to take such a risk.

As if Chris could sense my lingering indecision, he continued.

"It's still what I want," he said softly. "Being here these last few weeks with you and Grayson as a family has been a dream come true. I wouldn't give it up for anything or do anything to jeopardize it if you'd just give me a shot."

The word 'okay' was so close to the tip of my tongue that it shocked me.

That was all I had to do, just open my mouth and agree and he would be mine.

My heart was pleading with me to do it, to take that leap and ignore any of the arguments against it that were running through my mind - especially now that those arguments seemed much less sound than they had a few short weeks ago. I was so conflicted that it almost physically pained me to have to make a decision and I couldn't help, but wonder how he could be so certain.

So, I leaned back and tilted my head so my eyes could meet his.

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned. "After how things have been these last few years, how can you be so confident in your feelings?"

"Because I love you," he told me plainly and with unwavering surety. "If you tell me right now that it's not what you want, then I'll accept your decision. But if there's a hint of a chance, then I'll wait as long as I need to. I've been waiting for years, thinking that I didn't even have a shot, I think I can wait a little longer now that I know that I might."

It was another heart wrenchingly honest explanation, another vulnerable admission, and something in the openness with which he spoke made me realize that over the last three years he had done nothing to earn any distrust from me. Even after the fallout from Christmas, he'd put his hurt feelings and pride aside to make things easier for me. He'd been sincere during every discussion we'd had since then and hadn't been cruel or impatient about my indecision. I had no reason at all, other than my own fear and insecurities, to assume that he was going to break my heart and tear apart our family.

He deserved a little bit of trust from me as well and a clarity washed over me as I finally knew what I had to do.

There were words I could have said, probably should have said, but I didn't feel like there was anything that would accurately portray how I was feeling. I settled for a more direct approach as I pressed up onto my toes and let my lips fall against his.

He tensed at first and for a brief, heart stopping moment, I thought he might push me away again, but he didn't. He relaxed, pulling me closer as my hands slid to cup his neck.

It was a soft kiss. A gentle, loving kiss, that I hoped conveyed what I couldn't figure out how to say. But when our lips parted and he leaned down to rest his forehead on mine, there was a concern in his eyes that told me I wasn't going to get away with it that easily.

"What does that mean?"

I bit my lip, staring up past his long eyelashes into his eyes. There was still a tiny voice in my head telling me to run, to stop being so foolish and leave now before I made a mistake, but my heart had found its footing now and wasn't going to back down. Listening to my head all this time hadn't made things any easier, so it was time to try something else.

"It means," I started, taking in a shaky breath. "I don't want to keep you waiting anymore."

Chris let out a breath of relief as a tentative smile slid onto his face.

"Really? You're sure?"

I swallowed hard and nodded my head.

"Yes," I breathed out, my voice thick with all the emotions swirling through me.

He dipped his head a touch lower until our lips were reconnected. It was a deeper kiss, more desperate than the first as his tongue slid against mine and his grip tightened on my waist, my nails scraping against the fuzz of his recently cut hair. I caved into him, clinging to him like he was a lifeboat in a storm until he pulled back to take a breath.

My chest heaved against his, the adrenaline of his touch and what this finally meant, almost too much to handle. I settled back down, flat on my feet and nuzzled my face back into his chest as I fought to calm my racing mind and just enjoy the moment.

"You really mean it?" Chris asked again, the shakiness of his voice filling me with another pang of guilt. "You really want to give this a try?"

"I mean it," I nodded against him. "Doesn't mean my concerns have all vanished in the last five minutes, but I...I think I need to trust you."

"I won't let you down," he murmured into my hair as he pulled me even closer. Another silence fell between us until I broke it with an embarrassingly large yawn and Chris' chest shook as he chuckled. "Do you wanna sleep down here tonight?"

As soon as he'd asked the question, it suddenly hit me how exhausted I was. Even just the thought of walking upstairs seemed like an impossible task when there was such an inviting, comfortable bed only steps away from where I stood. But a thought popped into my head that I couldn't ignore and I turned my head slightly so I wasn't speaking directly into Chris' muscles.

"What about Gray?" I asked. "He always comes to you in the morning..."

"Would it matter?"

His tone wasn't accusing or annoyed, but genuinely curious as sharing a child did add a strange new element to all this. I didn't really know what the best way to handle it was since Grayson didn't really understand our relationship or know how a typical family was set up anyway, but it didn't seem like the best way to introduce him to the idea.

"I think we should talk to him about it instead of just letting him stumble on us in bed together," I suggested. "But I think maybe we should wait a while?"

Chris' face fell as the look of worry returned.

"You want to keep this a secret?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I shook my head. "You can tell whoever you want, but I think we should figure things out, make sure things are stable between us before we try to explain it to Gray."

"Alright, that's fair," Chris agreed before leaning down to place another soft kiss on my lips. "I'll wake you up before he comes down."

"Okay," I nodded as I let my thumb stroke his cheek.

We reluctantly slipped out of each other's arms, but it was a brief separation as we climbed into opposite sides of the bed. Once we'd turned the lights off, we met in the middle and he pulled me back against his chest, letting me hook my leg over his hip as we settled against each other.

Chris ran a hand up and down my spine as he nuzzled in my hair.

"This feels nice..."

"It does," I hummed. With the darkness around us, the quiet that had settled in, I felt encouraged to say something that I'd felt I should have said long ago. "I'm sorry, Chris."

I felt him tense.

"For what?"

"For messing you around so much," I admitted. "Especially at Christmas...that wasn't cool."

"If I had expectations, I should have laid them out before anything happened." His answer sounded rehearsed, as if he'd spent a long time convincing himself of that fact. I wasn't entirely sure it was a fair statement, but he continued before I could question it. "I can understand where you were coming from, but I promise I won't hurt you."

I felt a pang of uncertainty because that wasn't always a promise that could be kept, but the sincerity in his voice gave me hope. I placed a soft kiss against his chest as his hands slid up under the loose shorts I was wearing to cup my bum.

"I love you," I mumbled against his skin.

"I love you too," he replied, making a feeling of warmth flood through me. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

I sighed happily as my exhaustion had my eyes fluttering shut. I wanted to stay awake, to keep this moment before the brightness of the morning could bring any doubts or second guesses, but I was powerless to resist as sleep overtook me.

Part Five

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