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#and it’s never made me feel good. only come with assurances that this is less bad than what would’ve happened
allfearstofallto · 2 months
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Maids, maids…and even more maids
Being the Maid at a Yandere's Estate
FT: Kamisato Ayato, Childe, Diluc, and Scaramouche
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Master Kamisato Ayato is quite the funny man. That's what you'll tell the other maids in quick bits of gossip. He has a surprisingly good type of humor that just falls from his mouth and a very very soft laugh, but of course, you can barely gossip as long as you want to. A ringing of a bell signifies that the master has called for you again, something he's been doing regularly these past few months.
“You're the only one I can trust to clean my quarters,” he told you once before. His quarters being his office and his bedroom. Even though he says that, he never leaves the room while you're cleaning. Rather he's there, pretending to be doing other tasks as you dust his shelves and sweep the floors. You wonder if he thinks that you can't feel his eyes on you? The second you look down, he's looking right at you, practically burning a hole through you with his gaze. It wasn't noticeable at first, but it grew worse the more that he insisted that only you could clean for him personally.
Your daily cleaning for him ends with him patting you on the back, his arms lingering around your waist for a little too long.
“You did incredible, as usual,” he'll praise you, “But don't be shy to come and see me outside of work hours.”
Master Ajax, or Childe as he's referred to by others, is rarely home. You wonder if that humble manor he has in Snezhnaya is just for show. Of course, you seldom get to see it too.
Whispers amongst your fellow coworkers told you that before you were hired, Childe didn't bring anyone with him on his trips. It made you question why you needed to pack your bags every time he was taking a trip to another city, as he insisted that you would come with him and be his personal maid for the duration of it.
He never treated you poorly and never took you anywhere dangerous. You were usually the one just holding down the fort and tidying at whatever inn he decided to stay at. But even you acknowledged the fact that you felt like you were a little too close to your employer. He'd take you out with him, you'd try to trail behind, but he'd make you walk closely at his side. And never once did he correct people when they assumed you were his wife. Actually, if you looked at his face after someone made the mistake, you'd see a smirk forming.
“What's wrong with being married to me?” He would joke, although his smile wasn't reaching his eyes, “I think I'm a pretty good catch. Don't you?”
Master Diluc doesn't leave his office often. The other maids talk in hushed whispers about how they worry that he may be working too much. Seeing him roaming the halls is like seeing a ghost. This also means that he partakes in most of his meals at that desk as well.
He invites you to sit with him one day, saying that he doesn't enjoy eating his meals alone and seeing as he is your boss, you agree. One day turns into nearly every day of your work week, and when asking your coworkers about it, they seem surprised.
“Master Diluc barely speaks to me when I deliver his meals,” one girl says and the other's agree shortly after.
It seems strange to you as you also slowly eat your food across from him. You'd taken to eating your meal as well, even though it wasn't you designated meal time. He assured you that you were still being paid for the moments you sat with him. When you question why you're the only maid that he shares his meals with, a slight grimace crosses his face.
“Does it matter?” He asks you, almost a little too harshly for the gentle Diluc you know, “I'm paying you to spend time with me. Only you.”
Lord Scaramouche who only needs a couple maids. He's rarely home anyways and when he is he doesn't leave his room often, doesn't take to meals, and doesn't call for anything more than a cup of tea. Although even you're surprised when less and less maids show up for their shifts, until it's only you that resides within the walls.
It's rather lonesome when you realize that your only company is now the quiet lord Scaramouche, who barely meets your eyes most days, and when he does speak, he says some form of insult. It's only when you're out for a grocery run that you run into a previous maid of the manor, chatting happily with the first person who'll talk to you.
When asked why they all decided to quit, she tilts her head in complete confusion, “We didn't quit. We were fired, all of us.”
It's a short sentence that confuses you even more. And your walk back to the manor is filled with thoughts. Bringing lord Scaramouche his meal that night, you decided to ask why you were the only help left in his lonesome abode. Assuring him that you're not complaining and that the job isn't too difficult.
“Must you always ask stupid questions?” He spits the words out, “Your presence doesn't bother me like the others so you get to stay. Don't take it for granted.”
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atlabeth · 5 months
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(not so) simple finale - anthony bridgerton
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summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.
a/n: so um ignore how long every part of this took to come out. i have no excuse. anyways we are finally here at the end!! almost 10k words of proper regency soap opera type shit and it all ends happily i promise. i hope u enjoy because damn this was supposed to be a short one shot and ended up being over 40k lmao
wc: 9k
warning(s): angst, reader is a lil insecure, slightly steamy make out scene, happy ending<333
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You’d never been this restless before. 
Your dreams had a part to play in it. They insisted on tormenting you, though not in the usual way. 
No, these dreams would have been pleasant had they come any sooner. For Anthony Bridgerton appeared in near every single one, with his charming smile and soft eyes and hair you always desired to run your fingers through. 
He would smile at you, offer his arm and walk with you all around the park and the city as you talked for hours. He would compliment you, and you would compliment him, and he would court you as a perfect gentleman would. 
He would kiss you, ravenously so. His hands would touch you where no one had touched before, leaving trails of fire in their wake, would unearth feelings you never could have imagined. He would revere you, near worship you, because in this world you never made such ill-advised choices. In this world, you never dragged him into a worthless scheme that ended with a ruined reputation and a broken heart.  
In this world, he loved you just as much as you loved him, and you never did a single thing to make him doubt that. 
But you were not there. 
You were here, in the real world. Where you were in the midst of reaping what you spent a whole season sowing. 
You were roused from that less than peaceful attempt at sleep—though thoughts of Anthony took longer to disappear—by the opening of your door, and despite your visitor attempting to be quiet, you found your eyes fluttering open against your will.
“Oh, dearest,” your mother lamented, “I did not mean to wake you. I apologize; I merely wanted to check on you. I will return later—please, rest.”
“No,” you murmured, and you rubbed your eyes as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Small movements were much easier, which at least meant a step in the right direction. “No, stay. Please.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. When you nodded, she closed the door lightly behind her and sat on your bedside, laying her hand over yours. 
She whispered your name, her voice already thick with tears that she was trying to hide. “I am so glad you are alright.” 
“You say that every time you come in here,” you said.
“And I will continue to say it.” She shook her head. “You nearly perished. You should consider yourself lucky I am not in here at all hours of the day.” 
You managed a smile, and she sighed. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” you said. “I am still sore, but much better.”
“Good,” she said. “All I can ask is that you continue to get better.” 
“The rest has certainly been nice,” you said. “Am I still a true lady despite my late wakings?” 
“You have always been a true lady,” your mother assured with a slight smile. 
“I believe you may be the only one that still thinks so.” 
“If you are feeling ready, there is a ball in a fortnight,” she said. “It could be a good way to garner good will again.” You gave her a look, and she held up her hands. “I understand how you feel, but your presence is important. There are… rumors floating about, and we must lay them to rest.” 
“Rumors,” you muttered wryly. “That your daughter is an ungrateful wench and will die a spinster?” 
She said your name sternly, and you shook your head. “I read what Whistledown wrote about me—she’s likely written a hundred more. I do not care what any of them think of me, Mother. I am only sorry for the pain it has caused you and Father, and the Bridgertons.” 
“The Bridgerton name is strong enough to weather scandal,” she said. “We have to work a bit harder. And making an appearance in society again, especially with Lord Cardew by your side, will help.” 
You suppressed a scoff at the mere thought of him. You’d been granted such a reprieve from Lord Cardew because of Anthony’s influence, and while you were recovering, no one but family was to see you. But soon—very soon—he would be your entire life. 
“That brings up another question,” your mother said wryly, and when you met her eyes she was giving you a very pointed look. “Are you still sure about this?” 
No, you wanted to say. You couldn’t be less sure about Jonathan Cardew. But you’d dragged your family into this mess of yours, so it was your duty to fix it. 
Plenty of women married much more dreadful men every year. You should have considered yourself lucky that a man of his breeding, of his standing was interested in you at all—especially after the season you’d spent distancing yourself from him and the scandal you’d caused. 
“...Yes,” you finally said. “I am sure.”
Your mother sighed and said your name. “You are sure? You have not reached out to Anth—” 
“There is nothing left between us,” you interrupted. “I know it is not the best situation, and I know it is my fault, but I am making the best of it. All I ask is that you support me. It is hard enough attempting to make my way through this world—I need my mother to be there for me rather than constantly pushing against it all.”
“...Of course,” she said quietly. “And I am so sorry that I have ever done differently. My dear, all I ask in return is that you understand me, as well as the decisions I make. All I want is the best for you, and I know that marriage is not what you desire, but there are things we must do.” 
“Of course,” you said, and your echoing words spurned a small smile from her. “I am sorry that I have always fought you so much. All I could see was my hatred for any kind of union, but all I managed was hurting you and Father, as well as myself, and— and I cannot think of any apology that will be enough.” You shook your head with a mirthless laugh. “I’ve no idea how you put up with me for so long, truly.” 
“I’ve never had to put up with you,” she said. “I realize I may not have done the best job at showing it, but— but I love you more than anything in this world. Everything I have ever done has been for you, my darling. You are the future of our name, and I know you will do an excellent job at carrying on our legacy.” 
“Truly?” you asked softly. 
Your mother nodded as she took your hands and smiled at you. “Truly. Nothing in this world can change my love for you. You are our greatest accomplishment.” 
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat as you smiled as well, and you pulled your mother into a hug. She reciprocated, and tears filled your eyes. You’d missed the comfort of her presence so dearly. 
“I love you too,” you whispered. 
-
“Are you alright, my lady?” 
Your lady’s maid's words snapped you out of the stupor you’d found yourself in, and it was all you could do to attempt a smile. 
“Yes, Julia,” you said. “Quite alright.” 
Her brows furrowed as she draped a pendant around your neck, the cold metal turning your exhale slightly shaky. “Pardon my plainness, my lady, but you are not believable in the slightest.” 
“You have been around me for far too long,” you said dryly. “I request another maid, one that cannot read me so easily.” 
Julia offered a wry smile. “You are stuck with me for now, my lady. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?” 
You stared yourself in the mirror as you turned the question over. It was not as easy to answer as it should have been, not when everything was so out of order. Not when you hardly recognized the reflection staring back at you, wrapped in orange silk and adorned in jewels courtesy of Lord Cardew. 
You were not yourself—you were to be Baron Jonathan Cardew’s wife, a baroness and status symbol to hang off his arm and smile prettily, and Baroness Cardew was who stared back at you. 
Only a few more balls remained until the season came to an end, and though Lord Cardew was doing your family an immense service by giving you a second chance, he did not want to wait much longer to make it official. 
It was all planned out. Your relationship would truly enter the public eye tonight with your dances, you would promenade in open parks to have as many eyes on you as possible. He would call on you and your meager staff would be encouraged to spread rumors. Another ball would pass together, enough to hopefully weather some of the scandal you’d created, and then…
Then, he would propose. 
You would accept. 
And the fate you’d been so intent on avoiding would be sealed. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the impending tears. 
“I am nervous,” you admitted. “My decision didn’t exactly feel… real. Not until I was standing at the modiste getting fitted for this gown with one of Cardew’s maids. And all this jewelry…” Your fingers trailed across the raised designs on the pendant. “It makes it even more so.” 
“I can only imagine,” Julia said. “He has certainly put in effort.” 
“And yet it all feels hollow.” You moved away from the mirror and stopped in front of your vanity. The light blue reticule sitting near your jewelry box felt as if it was mocking you. 
Julia said your name with a sigh. “You made your choice. You pushed him away.” 
“I know,” you murmured, tracing the embroidery with your finger. “But feelings do not disappear so quickly.” 
“He wrote letters,” she said. “After you moved from Bridgerton House to recover here, after I refused his calling on you for the hundredth time, he wrote letters and delivered them by hand.” 
You picked at a loose strand of white thread on the purse, jaw clenched so tight you thought your teeth might crack. 
“He told me he did not care if you didn’t want them,” Julia continued softly. “He just needed you to know how he felt.” 
“This is how it has to be,” you finally said, voice shaking. 
“And what makes you think that?” Julia challenged. “You believe you have to live a life of misery simply because half the ton does so in the name of reputation and riches?” 
“Two things I no longer have any of,” you murmured. “Cardew’s pedigree is enough to get both back for my family. It is my duty, Jules, and I can no longer hide from it.” 
Your lady’s maid looked at you with desperation in her eyes when there was a knock on the door followed by your mother calling your name. You nodded your permission and she opened it.
“Lady Worthing,” she said, curtsying just so to your mother. “I’ve finished getting her ready—I’ll give the two of you some time alone.” 
“Thank you, Julia,” your mother said with a smile. She turned back to you, her eyes softer than ever as she moved forward and set her hands on your shoulders. 
“My darling,” she said, “you look so beautiful. I did not lie when I called you the crown jewel of our family.” 
You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Thank you, Mother. I’m glad I can make you proud.” 
She murmured your name, turning you so you faced the mirror. You saw yourself more this time, feeling more assured with your mother standing behind you holding all the stars in her eyes. 
“I have always been proud of you, darling,” she murmured. “Even if I did not show it in the best way. I love you more than words can express. I meant it when I said you are our greatest achievement.” 
You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against her. She allowed you to sink into her and you felt the tears brimming in your eyes. 
“...I’m afraid, Mother,” you whispered. “To marry. To be a wife.” 
She was silent for a moment, busying herself with adjusting your jewelry before she spoke.
“I was afraid too,” she admitted. “I hardly knew your father outside of a few promenades, and one lovely bouquet of flowers. It was almost fully arranged by our parents. But when he proposed, he vowed to always be my friend, and to always take care of me.” 
“Has he?” you asked. 
“Yes,” she said. “We did not love each other on our wedding day. But he has always been kind to me, and he has always advocated for me, and we have always been there for each other. We love each other now, in our own way. And,” she smiled, smoothing down the lace on your sleeves, “together, we brought you into the world. I would do it all over again if it meant I would get you in the end.” 
You could not imagine considering Lord Cardew a friend, nor the opposite. He saw you as just another pretty jewel to adorn himself with. 
Anthony saw you as a friend— as more. He always listened to what you had to say, always entertained your jokes with some of us own, never talked down on you. He saw you as an equal. 
 “I do not know if any woman is prepared to marry,” she finally said. “Even those that marry for love still have initial doubts. There are so many expectations of our behavior when we are told so little of what we must actually do.” 
“How do you do it?” you asked. “You married a man you didn’t know. You raised a child. You held face against a society that shamed you for only having a daughter.” 
“All you can do is trust in yourself, and in those around you,” she said. “If you are with the right person, everything will feel as natural as breathing. You will not care what anything thinks of you, because there is only one opinion that matters.” 
There was one man you felt natural around, one who you felt you could speak your mind around and not be judged. One man that you’d fallen in love with, that surely hated you in return for what you’d done to him. 
Your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “What should I do, Mother?” 
“You know what you must do,” she said softly. “All I can do is support you.” 
-
You’d rubbed your palms on your dress at least fifteen times since you’d arrived. A fruitless effort, considering you were wearing gloves, but you could not stand still. 
Your conversation with Lord Cardew had taken everything out of you, your dance with him even more so—an especially damning fate seemed ahead of you. But you could tune him out well enough, at least. 
It was an entirely different deal when the Bridgertons showed up. 
Violet walked in arm and arm with Anthony and Benedict, and Colin had a loose hold on Eloise. And to make matters worse, Daphne Bridgerton, alongside her husband the Duke of Hastings, were making an appearance. What an honor, to have the chance to embarrass yourself in front of such highly ranking nobles. 
Eloise branched off immediately after they passed the threshold, much to the protests of her mother, but your mother immediately pulled you in their direction. You could only imagine her thoughts—if she could get the Duke of Hastings touting for the Worthings, that would make things much easier.  
Anything for the optics, you supposed. But when you met Anthony’s eyes for the first time, you had to avert your gaze. He just looked so damn sad. 
“It is good to see you again, Violet,” your mother said. “And it is an honor, Duke and Duchess Hastings.” The both of you curtsied, and you could see the Duke’s slight smile. 
“I consider it my honor to meet the woman who has been the center of such conversation this season,” he said. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and thankfully Violet stepped in. 
“It is good to see you as well, Cecilia.” Violet smiled as she looked at you. “Especially you, my dear.” 
You bowed your head. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, Duke Hastings. I am grateful to be here.” 
Benedict smiled, the notion warmer than anything you deserved. “You look lovely, Miss Worthing. Especially for someone who escaped death with such recency.”
Anthony’s eyes remained on you the entire time, and more than anything you wished you could read this mind. The man probably hated you, and he had every right to do so. You just wished your feelings for him weren’t so insurmountable. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled as believably as you could. “Thank you, Mister Bridgerton. You also look well.”
Your mother nudged your shoulder and your gaze met Anthony’s once more. He still hadn’t looked away from you. 
You bowed your head once more. “Lord Bridgerton. It… is good to see you.”
No wonder you actually ended up falling in love with Anthony. It was the only way anyone could believe this ruse—you were quite an awful actress. 
Anthony lowered his head as well, his poise stiff. “A pleasure, Miss Worthing.”
“We’re glad to see you’re doing well,” Violet said, her smile a bit thin. You could only imagine the conversation that would occur between her and your mother later. “You caused us all quite a scare.”
“Oh, Anthony was so worried,” Daphne said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m thankful we have the chance to attend this ball so I could see you in person.” 
“I’ve recovered well,” you nodded, and you looked at Violet. “My family and I thank you immensely for your kindness and your doctor’s care. We’ll be in your debt endlessly.”
“There is no need for that,” Violet said. “It is enough that you are still here.”
Your cheeks burned but you tried to smile anyways. You wanted to burrow into a hole and never come out. It seemed the Bridgertons were capable of endless grace in public when they surely had to despise you. 
“Eloise has run off somewhere over near the strings,” Benedict provided in the silence. “I’m sure she would appreciate your companionship tonight.”
You glanced at your mother and she nodded, and your smile at Benedict was much more genuine. “Of course. I’ve been meaning to talk with her.” 
You mouthed thank you to him when your mother could not see, and he nodded. He’d always been so decent to you. 
You could not help but glance at Anthony as you went, and his gaze followed you. He would resent you if he had any sense, but it seemed the opposite—the sadness in his eyes was fatal.
You took a glass of lemonade from the refreshments table when you passed it, needing something to do with your hands. You found your way to Eloise’s side soon enough, and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.
“It is so good to see you,” she breathed. “I’ve only just arrived, and I’ve already had to fend off suitors. They just cannot seem to understand I hold such little care for them.” 
“I am just as glad to see you,” you admitted. “I do not think I can get through this night alone.” 
“I cannot imagine why,” Eloise said sarcastically. “I’ve heard the news. And I must say, it is your poorest decision this season.”
Your laugh was mostly out of surprise, and you nearly dropped the flute of lemonade you were holding. You were on edge far more than you expected—you almost wished your glass was full of champagne. 
“At least somebody is speaking plainly,” you murmured, your gaze distant and unfocused. “I think the rest of your family must hate me, but they’re all too kind to say it.” 
Eloise frowned. “Why would any of them hate you?” 
Your grip tightened on your glass. “Because I caused an immense scandal and then ended things with Anthony?”
She huffed a laugh, her eyebrows now rising. “Our family has weathered many a scandal, and we are still here. Or have you forgotten how Daphne’s dearest husband chose to court her?”  
“That is different,” you insisted. 
“I think it is worse, actually,” Eloise said plainly. “Simon is a duke, and Anthony nearly killed him before Daphne knocked some sense into him.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Truly, it was a disaster. We Bridgertons have a knack for them.” 
“As do I,” you said with a loose laugh. “I was stabbed, Eloise. I nearly died in your brother’s arms.” 
“And we nearly died in our drawing room,” she said. “Anthony, most of all. He cares for you immensely.” 
“Surely he cannot,” you insisted. “Not after what I’ve done.” 
“I am not blind,” Eloise said, “and neither are you. So do not demerit our intelligence and pretend as if you do not see it.” 
“I— I know.” You wrapped your arms around your midsection, and you grimaced as the jewelry on your wrists brushed against your skin. You were covered head to toe in finery that didn’t belong to you, and you itched from the inside out. “But I don’t know where to go from here.” 
“It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Eloise looked across the room, where Lord Cardew stood talking to your mother, and then over at her brother, who couldn’t have been less interested in the lady trying to strike up conversation with him. Then her gaze fell to you. “You’ve got a choice to make.” 
“I’ve already ruined things,” you murmured. “I— I can’t just back out of this.”
“I can tell you that you certainly haven’t ruined things with my brother. And Lady Whistledown’s speculation is the only thing binding you to that lecher.” Eloise shrugged. “You’ve already broken off one courtship. What’s another?”
Your eyes met Anthony’s from across the room. Once again, he’d already been looking at you. You averted your gaze quickly, feeling the heat rush to your face, and you tried to steady your breathing. He had no right to still have such an effect on you. 
“I need some air,” you murmured. “Will you—”
“Of course,” Eloise said. “You are simply touching things up in the powder room.”
You nodded your thanks and slipped out of the ballroom, finally able to drop the facade you’d been trying to uphold. You truly felt as if you were overheating, and the cool air was hardly of aid once you reached the outdoors.
Everything was all wrong—your dress, this damned tiara, the bracelets and the necklaces and every jewel that Cardew thought he could buy you with. 
It all belonged to him. You would not be another prize on his shelf. 
You couldn’t help yourself. You began to shed the jewelry as your pace sped up, ripping bangles from your wrists and pendants from your neck—by the time you reached a deserted area of the gardens, you were considerably lighter and considerably close to tears. 
You let out a frustrated sob as you slammed your fists against some artistic stone structure. It earned you nothing but pain, but it grounded you in some strange way. You tore off your gloves and threw them to the ground, a shaky breath escaping you as you screwed your eyes shut and  pressed your palms to your forehead. 
You could not marry traditionally, you could not follow through with your feelings for Anthony, and now you could not follow through with this ill-advised plan. 
Were you truly this useless? To bring ruin to two families with your knack for destroying things for it all to amount to nothing? You waxed poetic about the life you thought you deserved to live, about going to university and gaining your independence and never marrying, and yet here you were, near tears in the gardens of the ball you were meant to reenter society at. 
“Miss Worthing.”
The whispered words blared through the silence, and you knew who it was without having to turn around. It still sent a shock through you, your breathing faltering for a moment. Your eyes stayed shut. 
“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice watery. 
“You do not know me if you think there is anywhere else I would be,” he said. 
“How did you find me?”
“I followed the trail of jewels. You’ve left an awfully expensive path in your wake.”
“All of it is worthless,” you mumbled, finally letting your hands drop. “It all belongs to Lord Cardew.”
“You’ll have made a magpie very happy.” 
“Enough with the jokes,” you said. “Why are you here?” 
“Why do you think?” Anthony asked with a slight laugh. 
“I do not know,” you responded. “That is why I asked.” 
“I am here because I want to talk to you,” he said. “You cannot just avoid me for the rest of the season.”
You turned away. “I can try.”
“I will not let you,” Anthony enunciated. “I will not let you make the biggest mistake of your life because you believe it is your duty.”
“If you are here to change my mind, you are wasting your time,” you said stiffly. 
“I don’t believe I have to do anything,” Anthony said. “It looks as if you’ve come to the conclusion yourself.” 
“And what makes you think that?”
“You have not even glanced in Cardew’s direction this entire night,” he said. “You’ve been looking at me instead.” 
“Because I have felt your eyes on me with every moment.” 
Anthony huffed. “Can you blame me? This is the first time I have seen you since that night.” 
“Then you should remember my words from that night,” you bit out. 
“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” Anthony begged. 
You scoffed. “Why are you so intent on bothering me?”
“Because I cannot stand here and watch you marry another!” he exclaimed.
Your brows furrowed and you turned around. Anthony stood in front of you, his outfit impeccable but not at all looking put together. Desperation colored his eyes, and you saw how truly undone he’d become. 
“I— I thought I could, but I cannot.” He shook his head, a muscle working in his jaw as he glanced away. “Every moment you are in the vicinity of that man is a test of my strength. And I do not know how strong I am.” 
“I don’t understand,” you said hollowly. “You should hate me.” 
“I could never hate you,” Anthony murmured. “I thought I could, when you first told me of your plans, but— but I could hardly even dislike you.” A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. “My mother had been bothering me for nearly a decade to find a wife and settle down, but I thought love was a fool’s game. I would have my fun as a bachelor, and then settle down with the most advantageous match. There was no need for further emotional baggage—when you love, you can lose. And I refused to lose again.” 
For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest. He lost his father, he nearly lost you, and then you pushed him away like he meant nothing. 
“Anthony—” you whispered, but he shook his head. 
“Please,” he said. “I have a lot to say.” 
You nodded, and he did as well. 
“Our deal was perfect for that. You were nothing but my sister’s nuisance of a friend—a bad influence that I could never see as more.” You could not help your soft laugh, and Anthony’s smile turned a bit more genuine. 
“But then we spent more time together. I… truly began to know you.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You shattered every preconception I had of you. I began to look forward to our meetings, to our promenades—I would get home from calling on you and could think only of the next time I would see you.” 
“Throughout it all, you made me realize I was worthy of love,” he said. “You— you made me realize that I wanted it. That I wanted you.” His throat bobbed, and you could see his eyes glistening. “That I loved you.” 
You could hardly find the strength to speak. You felt as if you could melt into a puddle at his feet just from his words. You were so intent on avoiding Anthony because you couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him anymore— you believed he would be better off without you, without the scandal you’d dragged him into. 
But he… he loved you. 
He loved you just as you loved him. 
“I do not expect you to share any of my notions, and I know you value your freedom more than anything,” Anthony murmured. “So if it is not me you wish to be with, I understand, and I will accept it without complaint. I just beg of you—do not become that wretched man’s wife.” 
All you could do was stare at him for a moment more, words beyond your reach before you finally managed to speak through your emotions. 
“I tried to tell myself the exact same thing,” you said softly. “That you could not be happy with me. That I could never be happy chained to another—truly, that I could never love. Not when freedom is what I have always desired most. But Anthony…” you moved forward until you were mere centimeters apart, unable to suppress the shiver that ran through you at the proximity, “I have never felt more free than when I am with you.” 
“Miss—” Anthony started, but he paused and shook his head before saying your first name instead. His eyes were softer than anything. “Are you truly…?” 
“I could never fathom you sharing my feelings,” you said thickly. “That is why I pushed you away. But I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I think I have loved you for quite some time.” 
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, turning away so as to not betray the fullness of your emotions, and though you opened your mouth to provide some excuse, you were not granted the chance. 
Anthony’s hand encircled your wrist, pulling you back around, and just as soon did you feel his lips against yours. The tightness in your chest dissolved almost immediately as you all but fell into him, Anthony wrapping his arms around you to support you as your hands found purchase on anything they could. 
Your focus became devoted solely to the feeling of him, his soft lips against yours even as they plied for access. Anthony held you as if his only desire were to protect you from the world, and it made you feel a way you’d never even imagined. Only when air became a necessity did he pull away, his labored breaths in contrast to the pure adoration in his eyes. 
“Never in a thousand years did I think you would feel the same,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face on either side as he gazed into your eyes. “I thought myself a fool, falling for the one woman I could not have. You’ve no idea the relief it brings to hear you share my feelings.”
“I suppose I am just as foolish as you,” you breathed. Your heart felt as if it could burst. 
The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile. “I cannot imagine what my mother would think—that after so long spent searching for a wife, I fell for the one woman who never wanted the title.” 
You let out an airy laugh, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours. “Nor did I see myself falling for the one man who resented the chains of marriage as much as I.” 
Anthony pressed his lips against yours once more, and your hands traveled up until they tangled in his hair. You kissed until you were nearly breathless, but Anthony still managed to pull a very unladylike sound out of you as he bowed his head, kissing down the line of your jaw, your neck, until his teeth nipped your skin just above your decolletage.
“Anthony,” you gasped, clenching your fingers as they buried themselves further into his dark locks. You had never been this close with a man before, never this intimate — you never thought you would even desire it. 
But Anthony lit a fire inside of you that only he could quench, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was stoke it further. It was equally maddening and dizzying, the control he so effortlessly had over you. 
“I never knew how much I would delight in hearing you say my name,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your skin. “No more Lord Bridgerton, I beg of you.”
“I should think I’d like to hear you beg—” you breathed, but Anthony cut you off yet again as he pulled you into another searing kiss. You could hardly stand it anymore as your hands fell down to his shoulders, and you pulled away for just a moment as you began desperately undoing his waistcoat, Anthony taking the hint and removing his jacket. 
“These buttons were not designed with the needs of a lady in mind,” you huffed in frustration, fumbling fingers failing to make progress, and Anthony chuckled breathlessly.
“Have we finally found something I best you in?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.
“Just take it off.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”
You groaned as you looked at him. “If you insist on teasing me this way, Lord Bridgerton, I shall go back inside and act as if nothing has happened.”
“There is no need for idle threats,” he defended, and you bit back your smile. Anthony made deft work of his waistcoat, and the second he tossed it aside he was back on you. 
“Besides,” his voice was a whisper a millimeter from your ear, and warmth blazed in your core, “I believe I told you to call me Anthony.”
“And I believe you should have to try harder than that.” You smiled into his kiss as you trailed your nails down his back, the thin fabric of his dress shirt doing little as you felt his involuntary shiver. 
“You’ve no idea the effect you have on me,” he groaned, once again dipping his head as he peppered even more kisses down your neck, sliding down the sleeve of your dress to allow himself better access. 
The night air on your newly freed skin did little for you, any coolness of the breeze instantly negated by the heat of Anthony against you. Your nails dug into his back as he moved down, each spot where his lips touched your skin erupting with fire. 
You gasped out his name, barely able to handle it—the feeling was so foreign yet familiar, as if you had been waiting all your life for Anthony in this way. 
You could hardly believe you nearly lost it of your own accord. 
“It appears I do not have to try hard at all,” he said, “the way you cry out for me.” 
You laughed breathlessly, though his words were indeed true. You knew, in this moment, that you would do anything for Anthony Bridgerton—and he would do anything for you. “How I fell for a man as irritating as you, I haven’t the slightest.” 
You caught the slightest glimpse of his grin before he ducked his head yet again, and he had only just begun pushing both sleeves of your dress down when a woman’s voice could be heard behind you. 
“Anthony— oh!” 
The unfamiliar voice struck fear into your heart you had never felt the likes of before. Anthony moved away from you quicker than you’d ever seen, you just as hasty as you tugged the sleeves of your dress back to where they belonged and attempted to smooth out everything that Anthony had so easily sullied. 
You’d never imagined this was how your reputation would be ruined, with Anthony Bridgerton in the gardens of some ball, but when you finally had the sense to look and see who had caught you in a most uncompromising position, you could hardly stifle your incredulous laugh. 
“Sister?” Anthony questioned in disbelief, so many emotions warring on his face you had to turn away to cover up your growing grin. 
“Anthony,” Daphne greeted in kind, fighting to conceal her smile as her eyes drifted to you. “Miss Worthing.” 
“Your Grace!” Your shaky fingers were hardly of use to you as you pulled your gloves back up to where they belonged and once again ran your hands down the skirt of your dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Your cheeks burned under her gaze and you were innately aware of the fire underneath your skin brought about by Anthony’s touch in contrast to the cool night air. “What brings you here?” 
“Mother was quite… nervous about tonight,” she explained. “She indulged in one too many glasses of champagne, so she is taking her leave with Benedict for aid. She requested I find you to alert you of her departure, but it seems she was not the one whose disappearance should have been questioned.” 
“I’m sure you know this is quite compromising.” Thinly veiled amusement crossed Daphne’s face as she eyed you pointedly. “I am afraid you must marry him at once Miss Worthing, else I shall have to duel you to protect my brother’s honor.” 
You laughed breathlessly as Anthony looked up at the sky, his face turning a deeper shade of red than you had ever seen. “Your Grace, are you suggesting that I have ruined him?” 
“Indeed I am,” she confirmed, and you could see how it took every muscle of her being to retain a serious image. “This is not a light matter, miss. I do not understand why you are laughing.” 
“Daphne,” Anthony groaned, avoiding her eyes as he occupied himself with his jacket. “Why do you insist on being a nuisance?” 
“Anthony,” she inflected his name the same way he did hers, “I cannot have this woman sullying your name! I know it was of no will of your own, but this can not stand as is. But do not worry; I am prepared to defend your honor to my last breath.” 
“My sincerest apologies for what I have done, Duchess Hastings,” you responded gravely. “I am prepared for pistols at dawn.” 
Anthony huffed as he buttoned his waistcoat back up then went to retrieve his jacket from the bushes. “You exaggerate, the both of you. This cannot be what I was like last season.” 
“You were worse, brother. But do not worry,” Daphne said with a grin, “I should think a taste of your own practices is only fair after all you put Simon and me through.”
Anthony sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “I… suppose… that it is what I deserve.” 
“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I only wish we had a witness just so your confession is forever remembered.”
“I wish Mother had not sent you to seek me out,” he responded dryly. 
You and Daphne exchanged smiles with each other before your expression sobered slightly. “ I ask quite a bit of you with this, Your Grace, but… may I count on your discretion? I know we jest, but my reputation truly could not handle something like this. I do not know if…” you glanced at Anthony before looking back to her, “if we are yet ready to seal our union.” 
“Of course,” Daphne nodded, and a relieved smile tugged at your lips. “I shall not tell a soul.” 
“Thank you eternally, Your Grace,” you expressed, but at your short curtsy she shook her head.
“Please, call me Daphne.” She offered a smile of her own, slightly coy. “After what I have just witnessed, I’ve no doubt you will be joining our family soon enough.” 
“Sister!” Anthony scolded, and when you glanced at him his entire face was dusted pink, even the tips of his ears. It was enough to make you swoon. “You cannot just say things whenever you see fit.” 
Daphne merely shrugged, joyfully indifferent to her brother’s protests. “I outrank you now, dearest brother — I believe I can say whatever I see fit, particularly when it is the truth.”
“You are truly impossible,” Anthony muttered as he shook his head. 
Daphne just smiled before she looked back at you. “I believe it best if the two of you leave at separate times, so as to not allow room for any rumors. Miss Worthing, you should go first and return to your mother; you can claim you simply needed fresh air. Anthony and I will stroll around the grounds for a bit before allowing ourselves to be seen — we are simply catching up after such a stretch spent at Clyvedon.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smoothed your mussed hair and wrinkled dress for the last time. Anthony certainly did a number on you, in more ways than one. “Thank you again, Your—” you caught yourself, correcting your error with a small smile, “Daphne. 
“You may count on me in the future whenever I am in London,” she reassured. “It is my hope anyway that I shall be able to welcome you to the family officially.”
“Daphne!” Anthony exclaimed yet again, glaring at her. “Might you take your leave so we may have a moment alone?” 
“I believe you just had quite a few moments alone,” Daphne said, but a pointed look from her brother had her conceding with a smile. “Alright. I will be by the trees when you need me.” 
Anthony turned to you with an odd look in his eyes when Daphne was out of hearing distance, and when he did eventually speak, his voice was far softer than usual. 
“Do you truly believe I would not marry you?” he asked, and the underlying hurt in his voice did not go unnoticed. “Even if there were not the risk of a scandal, I would not hesitate. My entire heart lies with you.”
“It is not you, Anthony,” you sighed with a slight shake of your head. “I do not… I do not know if I am even capable of marriage.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean?” 
“I have spent my entire life running from it,” you said, chuckling softly, “and yet, here I am, the one thing I never thought I would be.”
“In love,” Anthony realized, and you nodded. 
“It has always been easy enough to denounce marriage when I’d never experienced anything of the like. The union of my parents was for convenience rather than love, and for as long as I’ve been alive my mother has tried to drill it into my head that my feelings did not matter — so long as the man had the means to provide for me and was not completely awful, he was satisfactory.”
“A future like that— it was so completely absurd to me that denouncing it all was the easiest thing in the world. And then I nearly died and my entire world changed, and I decided that Cardew was the best option to allow myself to completely separate emotion from marriage, but now…” you looked at Anthony, feeling more vulnerable now than ever. “I have found a love in you I’ve never thought possible, and I cannot stop imagining a life with you. And that terrifies me more than anything.” 
“But…” you trailed off again and you turned away from him as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “But I do not know how to approach my future, especially one where we are so closely intertwined.” 
Silence hung in the air for a noticeable period before Anthony cleared his throat, and it was obvious the care he put into his words. 
“You know I never imagined I would marry for love. Truly, I never intended it—I expected to be miserable in marriage. I saw it as nothing more than another duty to take care of. I believed that love was trivial, a ridiculous distraction. You are the one who made me see differently.” 
You turned around with slightly wide eyes, your arms wrapped around your midsection doing little to ward off the cool night air that seemed far colder than it was before. Anthony’s gaze never left yours, the softness in his own at odds with the pure, unbridled passion. 
“I love you. Though I have only just allowed myself to accept the fact, you are someone that I cannot imagine living the rest of my days without. There was…” his throat bobbed as his voice crackled slightly, “there was a moment when I feared the worst, that you would permanently disappear from my life. And ever since you were all but brought back from the dead, I have known that you are the only woman I wish to be with. It is why as soon as I left you, I asked my mother for this.” 
Anthony took a box out of his pocket, and you gasped as he got down on one knee, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. 
“This is the ring my father proposed to my mother with, and their love was beyond anything I have seen before. But it is the love that I feel for you, something so strong, so overwhelming— something I never thought I would experience. And yet here I am, madly in love with the one woman who scorned me with every word, and only pursued me because of my brand as a lesser evil.” 
A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound slightly muffled through your gloves, and you could not help it as your eyes began to fill with tears. 
“I admire you; all of you. The part that loves her family with every part of her being, that looks out for those with less than her when those more fortunate turn a blind eye. The part that fights for the rights of her sex when it is so much easier to just bow one’s head, that puts her happiness on a rightful pedestal— the part that is so terrified to share herself with others and yet deserves a love of the purest form.”
“And I am aware of how the unknown is a fear of yours, as it is one of mine. But I assure you—” Anthony’s voice was filled with such passion, his eyes with such love, that you could hardly stand it, “—I will be there for you every step of the way. We will face our fears as one, and we will shape the future ourselves, not to be bound by anyone or anything.” 
“I do not know where my future will lead me, but I know I do not want to face a single second of it without you. If you do not feel the same, I understand, but I will not be able to live with myself if I do not at least try. It is why I ask you,” Anthony said your name with more love than ever before, “will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you sobbed, a smile breaking across your face even as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”
Anthony let out a sigh of relief as he grinned, and after he slid the ring on your finger he stood up and pulled you into a breathless kiss. Nothing picture perfect like you’d heard about as a young girl, the kind of effortless gentleman’s act— Anthony kissed you with pure passion, love, desire, and it nearly brought you to your knees. You thought it would have, were it not for Anthony’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you against him and supporting you. 
You could hardly believe the same man who treated you as if you were glass after your injury was the one standing before you now, the one who handled you in such a way that could get the both of you exiled were anyone to see—the one that you thought hated you.  
And you were more than willing to allow it to continue, to surrender yourself fully to your baser instincts, when you remembered something that made your eyes widen.
“Your sister,” you murmured between kisses until you finally managed to pull away, albeit reluctantly. “Daphne is still waiting.”
Anthony laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back in, and your earlier protest was shown to be completely nonsensical. “Let her wait.” 
You grinned as he peppered kisses down your neck, enjoying the sensation until you pushed him away. “Anthony.” 
He groaned. “Why must you be a better person than I?”
“Believe when I say it pains me,” you said. “But the last thing we need is yet another scandal by my hand.” 
“Let them know,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Let all of London know that I love you, that we will be wed. I do not care what we have to face so long as we face it together.” 
“The thought has never been so tempting,” you murmured. “But you should at least alert your sister. It would be improper to make her wait out here all night for nothing.” 
His grip tightened on your hands. “So you do wish to leave together?” 
“Anthony, I just accepted your proposal,” you said with a laugh. “I wish to spend the rest of our lives together.” 
“I believe tonight is a good place to start, then,” he grinned. 
Anthony would not let you leave his side, so you went to Daphne together. First she saw your smile, then her gaze drifted down to your hand—she looked knowingly at her brother, though she could not hide her smile either. 
“It would appear as if I was right,” she mused. “I am always right when it comes to you though, Anthony, so it is not much of a surprise.” 
“Do not mock me,” Anthony said. “I could have left you waiting by the bushes all night.” 
“If you had not proposed to her after the conversation we had the other day, I would have questioned your sense,” Daphne said. “Trust me, I would not have been here long.” 
Your eyebrows rose. “What conversation?” 
“We do not need to start on this,” he said with a pointed look at his sister. “I have already bared my entire soul tonight. I do not need my sister embarrassing me further.” 
“Oh, I would never,” Daphne drawled. “After all, there will be plenty of time for us to gossip together when I come to visit you all.” 
“Won’t you be busy with your child?” Anthony asked. 
She shrugged. “You may be busy with one as well by the time I see you again.” 
You looked at Anthony only to find his gaze was already on you. There must have been some shred of doubt in your eyes, because he only took your hand in his. 
“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “We will take things as slowly as you desire.” 
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat and nodded as you squeezed his hands—you knew what was expected of you as a wife, and you wanted it with Anthony, but you could not lie and say that his reassurances did not bring you relief. 
“My best wishes to the new Viscountess Bridgerton,” Daphne said, her voice full of affection as she clasped her hands together. “It is an honor to have you join our family.” 
“It is an honor to be accepted,” you said, bowing your head. 
Daphne smiled. “I assume you want to reveal this on your own terms.” 
You nodded. “I’ve dealt with enough attention from the ton lately.” 
“I am afraid to say that will not go away,” she said wryly. “But I will cover for the two of you.” 
You pressed a hand to your chest. “Thank you.” 
“It is only proper to welcome my sister in such a way,” she said with a wink, and you could not help but smile. “Now run along, you two. Before rumors start.” 
Anthony chuckled, and the two of them embraced before you started on your way.
“Viscountess Bridgerton,” Anthony murmured in your ear. “I love the sound of that.” 
You hummed in agreement. “As do I.” 
You laid your head on Anthony’s shoulder as you walked back with your hands intertwined—not to the ball, but to a carriage for the promise of time alone. You glanced over at Anthony and he smiled, and you pulled him to a stop as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He responded with hunger, the same vigor he displayed when you first stepped into the gardens together, and you could hardly believe he still had it left in him. 
Far too many minutes passed as you kissed and kissed and kissed, not a single care in the world of someone catching you. What could they do? You’d already endured enough scandal to weather anything, and there was no way to punish you and Anthony — you were already engaged. 
Your lips were sure to be bruised once you finally pulled away, Anthony gazing at you with complete adoration as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I cannot believe you are to be my wife,” he murmured. 
“I cannot believe you are to be my husband,” you breathed. “When will we reveal it?” 
“Tomorrow,” he said, intertwining your hands with his own. “Tomorrow, we will tell everyone, and we will deal with everything that comes along with it. But tonight…” 
“It is our secret.”
Anthony nodded. “Tonight, we start the rest of our lives together.” 
“The rest of our lives together,” you murmured. 
Truly, it sounded like a dream. Months ago you could not even consider the thought of marriage without an air of disgust—now, here with Anthony, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were to be his wife. 
The rest of your life with Anthony would be anything but simple.
And yet, somehow, you could not think of anything more perfect.
-
taglist, only bc this series has been going on since i still had a taglist lmao. @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart @seninjakitey @vlodi @arianagrandes-things @preciousbabypeter @youraliendaddo @stupidlittlebei @illuminwtesz @eringaitskill @otheliesstuff @users09 @chloepluto1306 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @m-rae23 @the-horror-and-the-wild-simp @diemdurantia @theyoungestchild0w0 @mschievousx @alwaysreading1019 @ibelieveindragons141 @pretzywetzy
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zephyrchama · 10 days
Text
"It's a little hard to walk like this."
You knew this situation was less than ideal for Beelzebub, but you needed him to put up with it.
That's why you assured him, "I'll move with you. Just act normal."
Beelzebub thought that was easier said than done with you crouched under him. He stood in place while you held on to his lower thighs, feet planted next to his and head held low. You had a plan.
Lucifer was mad. You knew he was going to start nagging and never let go when he eventually got a hold of you. Wandering around in the House of Lamentation by yourself was dangerous for now, so you needed a shield. Someone who could hide you from another demon's wrath. Who better than Beelzebub? He's big. He's kind to you. He will protect you.
This wasn't exactly what Beelzebub had in mind when he said he wanted to protect you. This wasn't the danger he expected nor the method of protection he came up with. You intended to cling to Beelzebub with your hands just above his knee and your legs locked around his calves while in motion, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He took three large steps forward, lumbering ahead with an awkwardly slow and comically exaggerated gait. You were really channeling the spirit of humanity's tree climbing ancestors.
Beelzebub was unsure about the whole situation and paused. "I don't think this is going to work."
"Just keep taking big steps like that," you instructed. "I know this will work. I can feel it."
All Beelzebub could feel was your body flush against him and the heat spreading across his face. Endless gluttony was the least of his worries. He kept wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles, even after they stopped audibly cracking. A fidget toy would have come in handy.
"What are you doing?"
That deep, condescending tone could only belong to one prideful demon. You let out an "eep!" of surprise and tightened your grip in hopes Beelzebub would abscond the two of you to safety.
"Lucifer, hi." Beelzebub was far too polite at times to be a demon. You bopped your head repeatedly against his leg in a universal sign meaning "get me out of here! Run!" But the Avatar of Gluttony only created more distance between his legs. He stood in place like an inflexible kid trying to do a split and tried not to think about where you were.
You hesitated to look up. Lucifer looked like he ate a bowl of rocks for breakfast that morning and washed it down with cold medicine. That is to say, he was not happy.
"Beel," he started. "I'm not in the mood for games. Either you join us for what is going to be a productive discipline session, or you hand them over. Now."
A ring of sweat began to drip down Beelzebub's brow. He did say he would protect you, but also, he had plans to get a new jersey with insulated mesh while they were on sale. It was the last day of the sale. He wanted that shirt. He didn't want to linger on the way you were touching him or how you'd willingly let him take you anywhere he desired. You clung tighter and his brain sprinted a hundred miles a minute.
"I have to leave now," he admitted. It was a good thing the two of you weren't able to make eye contact.
"Nooooo!" You bopped your head against him again, this time in despair. Beelzebub lifted his leg with you on it, like he was offering the sacrificial lamb for slaughter. All he had to say about it was a quiet, almost inaudible "sorry."
Lucifer praised his little brother, "you made a wise decision." You felt his gloved hands hook under your shoulders and sensed malice at your back but you refused to go without a fight.
It was a short fight. The slippery Avatar of Pride hit all your ticklish points, ones you didn't even know existed. All it took was one instance of weakness, a reflexive giggle, and within seconds you were in his hold. Lucifer dangled you at arm's length like a wet pet. You pouted.
Beelzebub's quiet creep out of the room didn't go unnoticed, but you had a bigger problem now.
"You come up with the most ridiculous ideas," Lucifer chided. The first of many nags. "You should know by now it's futile. You're coming with me."
His clutch on you shifted to a more secure hold against his chest. It made writhing around and trying to run away pointless, so you challenged him with more head attacks. All this light head shaking was making you dizzy, but you were a fighter.
"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed.
Your gaze snapped up. You smiled and made an innocent yet logical suggestion. "Let me go?"
"No."
Into the locked office with Lucifer you went.
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starsofang · 16 days
Text
CALL OF THE SEA / PART TEN
pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief mentions of death/blood, gaz being a little shit, foreshadowing idk but we gettin into it masterlist
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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“You need new clothes.”
You glanced down at the loose fabrics swallowing your body.
You’d grown a routine of wearing various pieces of the men’s clothing apart from Ghost, given that your own clothes weren’t much to wear at all. They were old and dirtied, practically useless against the changing seasons of the chill that began to shift in the wind.
“We’ve got to stop on the Mainland, gather a few things for travels,” Gaz continued, eyeing the lousy clothes. “Would you like to shop for somethin’ new?”
“Really?” you asked bashfully.
It would be nice to have something of your own, something that was yours. While you weren’t doused in riches and gold back in your village, you had clothing that was to your own comfort and liking.
Men’s clothing was itchier than you liked, even with finer cotton.
“‘Course,” he assured with a warm smile. “Not that it’s not a bit humorous seein’ you wear our clothes for the time bein’, but I’m gettin’ sick of washin’ double the clothes.”
You smiled back at him, feeling a comforting warm burn through you. Gaz may have had his reservations in the beginning, but he was certainly becoming the most welcoming.
At the start, you thought he was cold, just as the rest of them. He was crude with the way he spoke, voice full of venom whenever he’d spoken to you, which was rare. Now, there was an underlying comfort, as if he felt the need to watch over you.
It wasn’t unwelcome, and was rather preferred. If you were going to be willed into this life of deadly chaos by no choice but Price’s own, then having somebody watching your back was certainly something you wouldn’t refuse.
“Clothes would be nice,” you sighed. “Thank you, Gaz.”
“No need,” he dismissed with a hand. “Consider it a loan. I get you new clothes, you owe me next time.”
“Next time?” You deflated, shoulders dropping. “I have no money to return to you, Gaz. Nor anything of consistency.”
Gaz laughed lightly, a hearty laugh that you always found contagious. It was full of life, lovely even.
The brief memory of him mentioning being a prince in his previous years always seemed to make its way back into your mind when you heard it. It wasn’t loud or boisterous like Soap’s, nor quiet and gruff like Price’s. There was a something more proper, more articulated when he laughed.
“You expect clothes for free, dove?” he teased. “I may be a gentleman in practice, but I’m still a pirate. Perhaps we can come up with a negotiation.”
“I have never been good with those,” you confessed with a heavy sigh.
“Mm. Let me think, then.” Gaz’s finger tapped mindlessly at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed in false concentration. As if a light bulb popped in his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I will gift you coins for clothes as well as a few for our agreement. Once we’re on the Mainland, you go off and find me somethin’ I’ll like. If I don’t like it, then you must owe me for the clothes.”
You gawked at him, eyebrows furrowing. Gaz only smiled at you cheekily, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.
“That sounds less like a negotiation and more of a game that I am bound to lose,” you said flatly. He snickered.
“C’mon, birdie. Don’t you like games? Everyone does.” He leaned in close as if to mock you, hunching down to your level. You could feel his warm breath fan over your nose and cheeks.
The sudden proximity made you tighten up at the abruptness, taking a step back. His eyes flickered to your feet before back up at you. Something mischievous oozed from him, and it felt like Soap was the one teasing you rather than Gaz.
Why were you so flustered? Was it due to the absence of light-hearted mockery that you’ve now forgotten what it felt like?
“Okay, okay. I will find you the most brilliant gift on the Mainland,” you bragged, attempting to come off aloof.
Gaz’s smile grew, though he didn’t step away from you. “Excellent.”
You watched as he finally moved, straightening up. He radiated a boyishness, one you didn’t see often, so you allowed him the advantage. The two of you were growing friends, or at least that’s how it felt. You didn’t want to lose that feeling.
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“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Price ordered his men. He said it with such warning, as if you weren’t standing amongst them.
It made sense, though you felt like a child with a leash on. After all, the last time you joined them on the Mainland, you ended up in a heated game of hide and seek with the soldiers you so stupidly entrusted.
Ghost stood silent, eyes peering over the side of the ship and to the faint view of the bustling town sitting several hundred yards away. He seemed on edge, more than he normally was, but you could only tell so much from his stiff body language.
You followed his view, squinting. The Captain decided it was best to dock the ship on a farther pier, away from the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. Nobody would notice them unless they went searching.
“Aye, Cap,” Soap and Gaz synchronized.
Price glanced at Ghost, who shifted his focus off of the land and to his Captain. He gave him a curt nod, and seeing that Price was satisfied, the five of you began to head off.
Ghost was in charge of you this time, much to your dismay. It was evident Price was still weary of you running off, and it seemed Ghost was his most trusted candidate for the job.
The walk towards the busy town was quiet apart from Soap and Gaz speaking quietly behind you. You tried to listen in, but it seemed Soap had a keen sixth sense because before you knew it, his hands cupped over your ears, shielding you from the chatter.
You could very faintly hear Gaz snickering, so you frowned to yourself, disappointed.
You always wondered what they all spoke about when you weren’t around. It always felt like there was this lingering whisper in the air that spoke a language you didn’t understand.
The maps, the poem, none of it made sense to you and nobody was offering answers. Even when you tried to shush it in your mind as it played on replay, it never quite left. It was always in the corner, waiting to return once things got too quiet.
Glancing at Ghost from beside you, he gave no indication of… anything, really. Even after all this time, he was still an impossible read. He stood tall as always, walked with an edge to him, and kept his eyes forward.
You’d never met somebody so confusing yet utterly frustrating at the same time. One moment, he gave you hopes of a bright future on the ship—getting along, finding solitude in one another, empathizing understanding.
Yet as quickly as those feelings would come, they’d be squashed with a mere glare. A burning fire. Something reserved.
You didn’t think he understood himself, either.
When you came to the bounds of the town, Price stopped you. He glanced up at the sky, eyes squinting at the brightness on his retinas, before looking back.
The sun blared down on you from directly above.
“Return here when the sun falls to the west. If anythin’ happens, and I mean anythin’,” he paused, meeting your eyes before shifting back to his men, “then you run back to the ship and signal the bell. Am I understood?”
You really hoped Ghost was good with directions, or at least had a compass. You weren’t sure how to read the time through the sun’s positions. It was never a necessity before when you knew that it was nighttime when the moon came out to play.
You looked back at the ship that was now in the distance. It floated mindlessly along the lapping waves, bobbing back and forth as if saying hello.
The men confirmed with Price. Just as you were about to join them as they trudged on forward, Price stopped you with an arm held out, blocking you from walking.
“You aren’t goin’ to run off on me again, are you?” he asked quietly, though there was that familiar touch of authority to his tone. It wasn’t malicious, but you knew the implications—he wanted to trust you.
“No, sir,” you assured with a shake of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you dared to look at Ghost, who was impatiently waiting if the tapping of his fingers on his crossed arms meant anything. “I won’t do such a thing.”
The Captain kept his arm up for a moment so he could look at you. His eyes searched yours, so much so it made you flustered.
“Good.” He nodded. “Go along, then.”
He dropped his arm, letting it fall to his side. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply cleared his throat and gave you a farewell with a nod.
You watched him leave, disappearing into the swarm of shopping townsfolk. Curiosity festered you like a tick, itching into your skin, but you knew it was best to leave it be for now.
“You comin’?”
Ghost snapped you out of your spell. You quickly came back to reality, offering a quick nod before jogging to catch up to him, sticking to him like glue as you entered the town.
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It was loud and overwhelming as you followed Ghost around. He made haste with purchases which ranged from stock for food to new knives that glinted tauntingly at you in the light, all of which were shoved into the bag thrown on his shoulders.
You knew people were staring. Even if they were directed towards Ghost and his eccentric appearance, it felt like they were watching you for even being associated with him.
The whispers between women about it being scandalous, the chatter between men who felt imposing threat from Ghost merely standing there.
You didn’t know why, but a part of you felt more defensive than humiliated. Your image was one mocked for the entirety of your lifespan, but Ghost had done nothing to warrant it. Not to them, anyway. To you was a different story.
None of that mattered now, though. You were growing increasingly irritated at being looked upon like a circus act.
“Ignore it,” Ghost muttered. You almost didn’t quite catch it. “I can feel you gettin’ huffy.”
You scowled, crossing your arms and turning your head. Ghost paid you no mind, continuing to browse in the small shop you were in.
“I am not huffy,” you mumbled.
Ghost paused, turning his head towards you. He stared, eyes flickering over your face—first to your furrowed eyebrows, then to your narrowed eyes, then down to your lips tugged into a frown.
He snorted quietly through his nose, returning to his browsing.
The sound made you turn your head. Dare you say it sounded amused, though it could be your ears deceiving you.
You decided to ignore it. The last thing you wanted was to bring it up and have him reserve back to permanently scowling.
Ghost straightened up from the various knives he was looking at, uninterested. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.
“Need anythin’?” he asked, sniffing.
You perked up, hand coming to rest on the small pouch resting on your hip. It contained the coins Gsz gifted you for clothing, as well as the surprise gift he requested of you.
Nothing came to mind on what to get him. You were clueless, and really didn’t want to owe him.
“Gaz was generous enough to give me coins to buy my own clothes,” you explained, shaking the pouch. Coins within the bag clanked together.
Ghost glanced down at the pouch. “I see,” he hummed, a touch of confusion in his words. Almost as if he was surprised.
He gestured with his head to follow him. The two of you left the quaint shop, stepping back out on to the dusty road. Ghost didn’t move from the entrance, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.
A silent question. He was allowing you to make the choice on where to go.
Looking around, you realized you knew close to nothing about shopping for clothes. Not of these kind, anyway. You were used to the muted, colorless fabrics that never seemed to fit quite right.
You decided on a shop that displayed a variety of different clothes and colors in the windows. Some looked too delectable for your taste, and much too expensive, while some were more simple.
Stepping inside, the sight was positively overwhelming. Colors of all kinds lined the walls. Stuffed mannequins were pinned together with dresses.
Ghost seemed severely uncomfortable. You were elated. A taste of your own self was hidden somewhere within these walls, and you were going to find it.
“Go ahead,” Ghost gruffed from beside you. He shifted on his feet, eyes averting to nowhere. “Not my thing.”
You hummed in response, leaving to browse on your own accord. If Ghost didn’t seem to mind, then you wouldn’t rush yourself.
You took your time. You went through everything you can think of—greens, blues, purples, reds. None seem to fit you. Or more so, you wouldn’t fit with them.
Neutrals were their friends. Browns, grays, anything above the stars. So, naturally, that’s what you went for. Something to fit in and not stand out. You were facing that enough as is.
Once you focused your preference, you found quite a few options and went with what felt best.
Ghost watched you with muted curiosity as you fluttered around the store with a heap of clothes in your arms. He only looked away once he was caught.
As you were about to call your search a success, a glint of gold in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A beautiful miniature telescope sat locked away in a glass case, made from dark wood and detailed with an exquisite gold design.
The sight of it instantly reeled you in.
It was the perfect gift for Gaz. You came to learn that he had a love for the moon and stars, often leaving the room late at night to ponder beneath them. You knew you wouldn’t lose your game if you got it for him.
The only issue was that the price was hefty.
You looked down at your strew of clothes, contemplating. The coins in your pouch would be enough for your clothes, but not for the telescope as well.
The telescope called out to you, like a secret siren’s song pulling you into captivity. It chose you, and you chose it back.
Ultimately, you graciously returned some of the fabrics back to their original areas, leaving them tidy and neat. You approached Ghost with nothing more than a few clothings items, enough to get you by.
You were never materialistic anyway.
Ghost stood, silently observing but feigning disinterest as you made the big purchase for your clothes, then requested the telescope. He made no comment, eyes following your every move as you emptied the contents of your pouch, the coins clanking along the counter.
The merchant was happy to sell it to you, claiming that nobody seemed interested. You were pleased to hear that, and with a quick and easy exchange, the clothes and telescope were yours, placed carefully into Ghost’s bag.
“Is that it, then?” Ghost huffed, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder.
You nodded, satisfied with your purchases as you set off along the old roads to return to the rest of the crew.
As you walked, your eyes ventured along the way, taking in the varying crowds. Some mothers, some fathers, some alone on their own journeys. None paid you any mind.
Until one did.
A man. Not as tall as your crew, but certainly as threatening. His entire aura would be misty black if it was visible to the naked eye. His hair was a cropped mess on his head, brown like the dirt beneath your shoes.
His skin was scarred and tainted, dark eyes piercing into you. Even from a distance, you feared you’d combust into a bloodied, explosive mess just from the sheer look he gave you.
The worst was his smile. Cocky. Arrogant. Evil.
If death were a man, this would be its vessel.
His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. He was too far away. It wasn’t until the wind bristled, rising goosebumps along your skin did you hear it. His voice traveled along the breeze until it whisked to your ears, flooding through.
“I’ll be seeing you, dove.”
597 notes · View notes
yandere-sins · 3 months
Note
Just saw your greek god works and they're top notch! Could you do something with yan Apollo? There's just soooo much stuff to work with with him... Thanks!
Thank you for requesting!! I love writing about them ^-^
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
Very little could speak more about your skills than a personal invite to present them at Olympus.
The morning Apollo arrived in his golden chariot was an exceptionally bright one. Naturally, because his body emanated the rays of sun that broke through your window, his radiant smile widening on his youthful face the second you stepped out of your hut. Your mother was crying—tears of joy as you realized when she hugged you tightly, telling you how proud she was. Even your father seemed choked up when he told you you were special.
So, as you finally stood before the handsome stranger, the god whose shrine you visited regularly, you were utterly speechless, overcome with emotions you couldn't place. You could only listen as he spoke to you, his voice silken like the soft breeze on a summer's day yet as cheerful as the anticipation for an exciting festival.
"I want you to play," he made his intentions known, his hand falling to the side of your head, letting a lock of hair glide through the gaps in his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle, beyond anything you expected an immortal to feel like. "For us, for me."
"It would be an honor," you honestly muttered back after your mother urged you with a slight push, reminding you not to be rude to the god who was blessing you with such good fortune. Most people were honored in war, because of their devotion to their deity, in the pursuit of knowledge, or in death. To be chosen solely for your lyre play was rare, and you felt overwhelmed with gratitude, tears filling your eyes.
Apollo smiled, promising to come back in a mere three days time. Not enough to memorize all the songs you wanted to play, but while your parents packed you a small bag with the essentials and exempted you from your duties on their farm while making sure you were fed and clean, you kept practicing your craft until your fingers were raw and bloody. Apollo had assured you that there was no perfection in music. Still, you wouldn't have been able to endure the shame of hitting the wrong note to a song everyone knew—even the gods. And so you practiced, day and night, until finally, it was time to leave.
That morning was colder yet auspicious. So many burdens weighed on your shoulders—your performance, bringing honor to your family and yourself, the payment you heard your parents whisper about. There had always been food on the table for your big family, but you noticed their excitement when they talked about the boon that the gods would give you for performing well. You gulped nervously as you fiddled with the newly strung lyre in your hand when, with loud neighs and the warmth of a sunny day washing over you, Apollo arrived. When he smiled at you, you couldn't help but grin back, excited for this day, his brilliant mood instantly captivating yours.
You bid your parents farewell as they wished you a good performance and safe travels. They waved after you as the heavenly chariot took off into the morning sky, announcing another beautiful day. You got to stand close to the sun god as he performed his duty, chatting carefreely about how excited he was to hear you play and how everyone was expecting you eagerly. It made you nervous, but being close to him, his arm around you to keep you secured, Apollo's presence made your worries simply melt away. You could have never seen yourself as his equal, but he didn't make you feel any less than a friend.
He took his time cruising you through the sky, showed you the magnificent temples of the gods, let you taste the richest grapes the land had to offer, and took you to places that most humans wouldn't see in the span of multiple lifetimes. Always with a hand outstretched to help you step down from or into his chariot, and watchful eyes looking out for you. You learned a lot that day, the excursion long but magical, especially with a god by your side as your guide. To him, it must have been boring stuff that he saw every day, but to you, it became the most incredible day of your life very quickly.
Until you were brought before the entrance to the Olymp, that is.
Chariot parked, you could still feel Apollo standing behind you, protectively but encouragingly. His frame towered massively next to you, cutting you off from the human world behind his radiant form. The sun was setting, leaving you with a chill. But perhaps you were only imagining it, your performance anxiety rising. His warm hand gently pressed into the small of your back, urging you with determination to step ahead and face the rest of the pantheon of gods that had collected, to play them the songs you had come for.
With weak knees, you took one step in front of the other, Apollo always by your side. He ensured you wouldn't falter as all eyes in the grand hall seemed to turn towards you the moment you stepped through the entrance. There were all kinds of eyes—wise and godly and mythical. But you were more surprised by the human ones, tired ones, downright exhausted ones that raised to watch you. Their presence felt out of place, but then again, so did yours. However, there was something deeply unsettling in the dullness of their eyes, the sloppy movements as they walked around the hall, seemingly without vigor, their stares the only reaction to your arrival contrasting starkly with the boisterous and booming voices of the immortals greeting you.
"Apollo, is this your new charge?" a faun asked, curiously eyeing you and your lyre. "Your new songbird, eh?"
Apollo laughed, waving off the comments from all sides as he moved you forward, guiding you through gods and servants alike, their hands reaching out, touching you, admiring you. You couldn't help but startle at the different sensations of these touches—cold, sharp, unnatural. It made you cling to Apollo more, his presence way more comforting, and although he had grown in size—appearing mighty godly now—he made sure that his arm stayed around you like a shield.
One dull-eyed human after another tried to serve you food and drinks that you declined respectfully. It was hard enough to keep up with the pressure, and you didn't have the stomach for any kind of intake—at least not until you were done. And with Apollo's urging, you didn't stick around to talk to them or even watch them, although you felt their eyes drill into your back.
You were led to the seats at the very top of the grand hall, guided to the ones at the side which were vividly red with golden threads. Sitting down on them was like sinking into a cloud as Apollo helped you up, lowering you down gently. The surrounding lounges and pillows on the floor were quickly filled with eager eyes looking up at you, waiting for your play just like your patron god had promised them. You couldn't help but look around, cross eyes with some of the nymphs and minor goddesses and gods that you probably had heard from but were never educated on properly.
But the gathered gods were easily recognizable by their trademarks—Dionysus, Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis, just to name a few of them—and you were surprised to see them keeping one or more humans by their sides, looking very different from the ones you had seen before. These ones were clothed and prepared with great care, love, and devotion to their god. Their cheeks were plump, and they smiled when their patron spoke to them, albeit hesitantly. However, the unsettling feeling you got from the dull-eyed ones before didn't vanish as you watched these devoted humans. Something about their posture and expressions didn't match the festivities. They looked uncomfortable, and some of them even sad.
"It is time," Apollo spoke softly beside you, his voice gentle but intent. This was his party, and you were the special performance; of course, he didn't want you to be distracted and unable to play. His touch tore you out of your observations. It drew your attention back to him, strong fingers wrapping around your shoulders, squeezing you encouragely, but it was almost a little hurtful. You nodded, thankful he didn't make you look incompetent in front of everyone, and his grip softened in satisfaction, although it didn't disappear. Still, you couldn't help the anxiety from rising, your mouth dry, and your fingers jittery. Even when you tried to calm yourself, you couldn't entirely focus, panic rising inside you.
Now that you had come so far, you couldn't fail.
A hearty and a beautiful laugh rang out from your side, Dionysus and Aphrodite exchanging knowing looks before the goddess handed one of her humans a golden chalice and encouraged them to get up. "Go," she chimed, and her stunningly beautiful charge sauntered their way over to you, handing you the chalice. They were undeniably beautiful, even when clothed in the simplest garments. But their gaze was unblinking as they handed over the cup. "Don't," they hissed sharply in a whisper, their eyes flitting to Apollo for just a second, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin before the human left you again, trotting quickly and without a detour back to Aphrodite's side. The goddess patted their head before returning her attention to you, gesturing for you to drink. "To your nerves, you ray of sunshine," Dionysus laughed merrily, and everyone raised their chalices in a toast.
You nervously crossed eyes with the human that brought you the drink, seeing their expression hardening in a deep frown unbecoming of their beauty. Then you looked to Apollo, his own cup raised to his lips, but he had yet to drink from it. He observed you from the corners of his eyes, smiling when he noticed you looking back. "It's just a little bit of wine," he reassured you, assuming you were unsure if it was okay to drink.
You nodded, feeling pressured not to refuse the gods' hospitality, and raised the chalice to your mouth to take a tentative sip. It wasn't more than two gulps before you set it down, letting it be taken away by a nymph that sat at your feet. Immediately, the tension became lighter, your worries melting away, especially when Apollo drew you closer to his body, his warmth seeping into you. He steadied you for your play, letting you lean on him as much as you needed. With all the pressure and anxiety you had felt, you had almost forgotten that playing the lyre was fun. That you enjoyed doing it, and practiced hard enough to even perform before the gods. With the first chord echoing through the hall, all the tension finally left your body.
It was glorious.
Gods and humans alike sang along to the well-known songs you had picked; they listened when you added nuances to your play, and some of them got cozy with each other, cuddling and kissing as you presented them with the romantic notes everyone adored. By the time your hands were tired, fingers roughed up by the strings, and your concentration fading, everyone was in awe and satisfied with your performance, gods clapping their hands and cheering at you as you finished.
However, you immediately looked up at Apollo, greeted by his radiant smile beaming down at you. His hand raised to pat your head as he announced you as the magnificent talent of the night. The relief mixing with pride swelled in your chest, heating your cheeks as you took some humble bows, smothered in the cheers. Another cup was handed to you, and after performing for so long, you were glad to wet your throat.
Most of the night was spent talking to eager fans of music, letting them play your lyre, and hearing their own songs. Drinks would be passed to you, food almost shoved into your mouth by the merry folks, and you laughed along with them over their silliness. You felt lighter than ever before, so caught up in the moment and with the alcohol only adding towards the sense of mirth. The mystics were as playful and cheery as they had always been described, but you knew it would only be for that night, so you enjoyed their company.
Apollo wouldn't leave your side even as gods approached him, congratulating him for finding such a treasure amongst the humans and asking if he'd let them "take" you for their celebrations sometimes. You didn't get to hear his answers as your attention was drawn away by humans joining in with the conversations, telling you about their boons and how they were accepted into Olympus. They were all extraordinary people, and you felt quite small next to them. But they didn't make you feel unwelcome in their midst, and you were glad to hear about their experiences. Nymphs would braid everyone's hair, decorating them with flowers, fauns were playing around, everything seemed like the perfect idylle that all humans imagined the lives of gods to be.
"You shouldn't agree if they ask you to stay," the human beside you suddenly whispered. She was a cute, dainty woman, a follower of Artemis clothed in silver and pelts. Immediately, her hair was yanked back as one of the nymphs hissed at her. You caught the words 'insolent' and 'behave', but others crowded around you so fast, talking over the two and asking you questions as that woman was taken away, so you were forced to shift your attention.
It wasn't until you felt a warm hand graze over your back that you looked up at Apollo again, his gaze very gentle. He seemed satisfied with how the evening went. He might have even held some affection for you after the performance, which put him in good graces with everyone. Relief flooded your senses, and you bit back a yawn as exhaustion suddenly crashed into you, taking hold in your body.
"Are you tired?" he asked, and suddenly, you couldn't hold back the signs in front of him. You had kept it together so well, but you figured that playing for hours, talking for even longer, and drinking the sweet, fruity wine was coming back to haunt you now. Leaning into his comforting touch, you gave him a small nod and he understood, standing up and helping you get to your feet.
There were lots of disappointed aws and ohs at the announcement of your departure, nymphs and fauns seeing you off and waving after you as Apollo brought you back to his chariot, your legs even weaker now than when you entered the Olymp full of anxiety. No human came to see you off, but you barely registered that in your tired mind. Instead, you put on a smile and waved back at everyone after getting on the chariot.
"Did you have fun?" Apollo asked as he urged his horses to go. The night had long set, yet you two moved across the sky like a shooting star in the darkness.
"A lot," you confirmed. "This was an amazing experience; I am very grateful to you for this opportunity! Although it makes me sad that it is already over."
You could hear your own words slurred by the intoxication and exhaustion, yet you managed to form a tired smile for him. Apollo stepped closer, helping you stay upright as he urged his horses forward before returning your smile.
"It doesn't have to end," he hummed cheerfully, not a hint of tiredness in his demeanor. "You could play for us every night. Party with everyone, be merry. Would you like that?"
You chuckled at his suggestion but shook your head as you looked out into the night sky, stars passing you by at a speed that made them look like the shooting stars.
"It was a lot of fun, but I got to go home. My parents need my help on the farm, even if I love playing the lyre."
Apollo hummed thoughtfully, and you felt closer and closer to sleep as his warmth enveloped you. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt the soft thud of the chariot landing beneath your feet, followed by two hands guiding you off it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you were too tired to really do much but let yourself be picked up, nuzzling your face into Apollo's comforting warmth.
His steps were less gentle than his touches, his hold on you bouncy as if he was in a rush. The sounds around you turned from the peaceful night wind passing you by into complete silence, only his steps echoing as they hit marble floors. A rush of coldness threatened to envelop you, but Apollo pulled you closer to him, not letting the cold get near. You felt something reach out for you again, like the gods had, curious and uncaring of your privacy. It didn't feel familiar, your senses slowly reawakening, but something inside you seemed to want to keep you dormant for a while longer.
However, the feeling was interrupted when you were laid down into the softest cushions, with Apollo's warmth brushing over your head as you felt his weight dip the mattress you were on top of. Even with your drowsy mind, you knew you weren't in your own bed, concern rising. "Where are we?" you sighed, stretching your neck to receive more of his incredibly comforting warmth while a shiver ran down your spine. Why was it so unusually cold in this place, or had you just gotten too used to having Apollo's warmth around you that you only realized the shift in temperature now?
"Home," he answered your question, and you pried your eyes open, looking at the blurry, radiant form of the god sitting by your bedside. Then, slowly, every movement paired with so much discomfort, you let your head fall to the side, looking around at the vast darkness surrounding you. Not even Apollo's light could banish the pitch-black shadows all around you, and no sound penetrated the room.
" 's not my home..." you mumbled, brows furrowing, your deduction taking an awful lot of time. This place felt weird compared to all the wonderful ones you had visited. If this was his home, you had imagined it to be bright and beautiful, a golden palace of light and warmth. But instead, you feared for your little toes as the shadows seemed to reach out, wanting some of your warmth instead of giving it to you.
"It is now," he reassured you, sounding unusually stern even though his hand caressed you gently, brushing away your hair and cupping your cheek to turn your head towards him again.
"But my parents..."
"They knew the price they'd pay in this trade."
Leaning down, Apollo connected his forehead with yours, the depth of his eyes impalpable, especially in your muddled brain. You couldn't read him well, but he seemed... satisfied? He didn't seem to be ridden by confusion or worry like you were; rather, he was confident and calm. Something stirred in you, a sense of anxiety, but it was beaten down by a sweet-tasting tiredness immediately.
"Welcome home," he muttered, kissing your temples. "Catch some sleep so you can fulfill your duties to me tomorrow with the same brilliance as you did today. I'll be right here, making sure you are well-rested for your next performance, Sunshine."
"Duties?" you mumbled, already getting lulled back to sleep with his warmth now enveloping you like a blanket. You didn't hear his answer, even when you saw his lips move. Perhaps Apollo sang to you rather than spoke about what you wanted to know, but you wouldn't know.
You were plunged into the darkness of uncertainty, but even when you opened your eyes again, all that awaited you were more shadows that seemed to reach out for you. A sense of panic and unease spread throughout you, the uncertainty turning you into more of a wreck than you already felt after waking up with a splitting headache and no idea where you were.
It was no wonder that you immediately ran to Apollo when his light lit up the room. He gently wiped the tears from your face and assured you everything would be alright before pushing your lyre into your hands. You didn't even remember bringing it back from the Olymp, but he didn't seem to mind your carelessness.
"Now, play," he asked, and you gulped. You were barely awake, your fingers still hurt, and you were in an unfamiliar place that gave you the creeps.
"Here?" you asked, unsure as you looked around the depressing, dark room.
"Exactly here. Brighten up our home for me, will you? It's been too long since someone made it bearable to stay here. You won't disappoint me, right?"
"How... how did they do it? Will my playing be enough?"
"We'll see," Apollo said, gripping your arms tensely, his eyes glazing over with impatience.
"And if not?" you asked anxiously, unsure if a song could disperse the discomfort that seemed to reign in this home.
This time, Apollo hesitated, mouth opening briefly before his lips turned into a gentle smile. "Don't disappoint me, Sunshine. I can't stand this darkness and silence in my home anymore, and your parents assured me of how much life you could bring to any place. Seeing you perform before the gods, I immediately knew you could do it. You'll make this place a home again, one for us to live happily for the rest of our time. And if not..."
Letting go of your arms, Apollo stood up, turning around and heading for the door at the far side of the room. You wanted to follow him as the shadows lapped at you, but you felt glued to the floor, frozen in fear. With Apollo opening the door, you watched as the clouds passed by right outside, a complete drop into nothingness spreading out in front of this house, the chariot parked on seemingly no ground just outside of reach.
"If not, you'll learn what happened to the person before you that disappointed me," Apollo explained, not even pointing outside and towards the ground to make his crypticness make sense. "Play," he demanded. "Turn this place back into a home. Our home, Sunshine."
And with dread etched into your face, you strung the chords.
438 notes · View notes
parvuls · 3 months
Text
Subj: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers
Mr. Eric Bittle,
It has recently been brought to my attention that you are responsible for the pies and various pastries that have been delivered to members of the NHL team, the Providence Falconers. Unfortunately, the high fat content found in pies and the like poses a significant risk to athletes' physical fitness. It is vital for hockey players to maintain optimal physical condition to ensure their peak performance on the ice, and therefore the team’s win.
As it is my duty to oversee their dietary requirements, I ask you to cease the distribution of such food items to the members of the team immediately.
Thank you for your cooperation,
Jack Zimmermann
Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI
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Subj: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers
Dear Mr. Zimmermann,
It’s really nice to make your acquaintance. I actually had to message Alexei just to make sure this wasn’t some prank from one of my friends - I couldn’t believe an actual NHL staff member reached out to me! He assured me you’re the real thing, however (although I’m not sure how you got my school contact info?).
About the pies - you have nothing to worry about. Firstly, I only use the very best products, so anything your boys are getting from me is high quality. Second of all, I explicitly told the boys that I would only make the deliveries on cheat days. They better be smarter than to lie to me. 
I’m a big fan of the Falconers, and I would never do anything to harm their chances! On the contrary, I do believe having a pie waiting for you at the end of a hard week gives more motivation for training. So actually, I’m helping y’all out :) 
You’re very welcome, and good luck against the Devils!
Eric
-
Subj: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers
Mr. Bittle,
I appreciate your reply. However, I feel that I have not made my stance clear enough.
Hockey is a very demanding sport. Cheat meals are meant to benefit our players, not provide them with an excuse to consume excessive amounts of sugar and fat. Nine of our players had received deliveries from you in the last 3 months. In my estimations, that comes to about 216 baked pies. 
You must not be aware of this, but regular consumption of saturated fat can lead to heart disease and stroke. I advise you to look into investing your time in less harmful pursuits. I attached a list of recommendations for preferable culinary interests and other hobbies (if you eat even a portion of what you make, I highly recommend taking an interest in physical activity).
Please write back to me with confirmation that you will no longer deliver to members of this team.
Sincerely,
Jack Zimmermann
Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI
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Subj: Re: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers
Mr. Zimmermann,
Unfortunately, I can make no such promises. Your players are counting on me, and I’d hate letting those sweet boys down. But just give it a few more months! You’ll see their game won’t be affected, and we could put all this behind us. In fact, I bet you’ll even see some improvement :)
Thank you for your concern, but it’s honestly not needed. I’m definitely getting enough physical activity, haha. Actually, I’m the captain of a Division I NCAA ice hockey team. And look, I’m doing just fine!
Also, I did take a look at your list. Flourless protein brownies?? Poor man. If that is what you consider a dessert, it’s no wonder you’ve got all these misguided views on pies. I had real brownies delivered just for you this morning, so you can taste the difference yourself. If they’re not on your desk by this afternoon, Thirdy or Poots must’ve gotten to them. Please let me know so I can make another batch.
All the best,
Eric
Subj: Final Request to Discontinue Pastry Deliveries 
Mr. Bittle,
You’re a hockey player who bakes a dozen pies a month in his free time? This is unacceptable for a sports team on any level. If possible, I would like the name of your team and your coach. Your staff should be made aware of the risks involved in not supervising their players’ health. I am more than willing to offer my services for a free-of-charge seminar about nutrition. 
I have made my position about the deliveries very clear. If you cannot assure me of your cooperation, I will be forced to speak to security and restrict entry of food into our facilities without my approval.
I don’t wish to resort to forbidding you from future contact with team members, but if it is in the best interest of the team’s success, I will.
Good day,
Jack Zimmermann
Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI
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Subj: (no subject)
Dear Jack Zimmermann,
I would like to see you try.
Bless you heart,
Eric Bittle
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pbnbucks · 1 month
Note
Hi would you write smut for Nika muhl?
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word count : 890
warnings : sad sex kind of?, angsty, poorly written smut
summary : nikas been acting weird and you give her a taste of her own medicine
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“nika! where have you been its 3:18 in the morning” nika takes her coat off as she walks in ignoring you, ignoring the fact that your screaming and angry acting like nothing happened.
“i was out with the team” she says blankly reusing the same excuse that shes been using for months.
“oh bull shit nika your always with the team” sarcastically dragging out your voice at the girl who clearly had a night who still ego boosted as she walks past you
“you know what im gonna start doing everything you’re doing, im gonna let everything that walks by fuck me, and act like i don’t care and come home late” and with that sentence her heart drops to her stomach as she turns her body walking your way arching her back down to meet your face at the same level using her height to try and claim dominance,
this wasn’t the nika you knew, the one who wanted you to fear her.
“what did you say?” you scoff at her pettyness “you heard what i said im fucking tired so fuck you im going to go do whatever i want and if that means fuck other people then so be it asshole” raging as the girl in front of your face doesn’t change her facial expression only furrowing her eyebrows lightly wanting to remain unfazed.
her familiar hand found its way to your neck thats been placed there many times, when she was in loving and sweet mood but this time shes purely angry
“nika get the fuck off me” she pins you against the wall holding your body under her as your entire body’s are touching each other “don’t ever say that your going to fuck anybody else or so help me-” she says degrading you but you cut her off before she can try and make a point that you could care less about
“you’ve been fucking God knows who and your expectations are for me to be tied down and okay with it? are you fucking serious nika?” nika often took advantage of you, taking you for granted, not listening to things you wanted her to respect in your relationship. she wasn’t the same sweet girl anymore, the girl who made sure you both where in bed by 9 pm.
“you don’t mean that shit baby.” you knew the card she was going to play, sweet talk you and then in 3 days its back to the same day routine “the fuck i don’t nika, i wish i never met your sorry ass”
this was the comment that sent her overboard her whole face changed from nonchalant to complete rage, she overused her nonchalant cover so what happened next had you shocked as she dragged you to the bed shoving you face down as she got on top of you going to say something in your ear
“i wanna hear you say you don’t mean it” you whine because you knew nothing would change you where going to forgive her, she would play nice for a bit and then go do what she pleases.
“please start caring nika” you cry out as her body begins to hug every part of you as she places soft kisses along your jawline “i know baby, i know im sorry..” she says hesitantly as she wasn’t known for letting people see her feelings, not even you.
“i want to make it up to you, so fucking bad” she slides her large cold hands up and down your waist trying to calm you down from your pain washing over you. “i promise babe, gonna make you feel so good” she assures you as she flips you onto your back brushing the hair out of your face and with that your flipped on your back as her hands roam all over your body
she slips the strap on as she slowly enters the strap into your sweet hole as a groan leaves your mouth while your stuff your face into a pillow gripping the sheets.
“no pretty i want to see your face” she coos as she takes the pillow away from you running her fingers up and down your leg.
pornographic moans continue to leave your mouth as nika continues to push her hardened strap into not slowing down by any means.
“so fucking good” you plea out as you feel your walls begin to tighten, nika brings her fave down to face level with yours placing kisses along your jawline
“im so so sorry my good girl, i love you so fucking much” she mumbles in to your neck as her hands roam down to your butt massaging the large chunk she had in her hands
“i love you too mommy” she hums in response to your reply moaning in to the sweat spot on your neck
“i know you do mama i know” she coos edging you in to your release “want you to cum right here pretty” she whispers seductively in to your ear as you liquids begin to spill on to the strap that fills up inside of you, as moans begin to spill and fall out of your mouth.
“so so sorry princess” she reassures you for the final time
but sure enough a week later the same argument and event occurred again.
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Text
Blushing, Crushing, and Totally F*cked! Part II
This is the second part to my first fic! Here's the link to that: :)
Summary: Hazel and the reader grow much closer as friends through the club, and after the emotional bonding meeting, they think they might be ready to grow closer in other ways.
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: fem reader (she/her pronouns used), swearing, sexual content (no explicit smut), making out, discussions of divorce, mental health, emotional topics, a bit of hurt/comfort, angsty because I got carried away, etc. Hazel is much less of a loser in this one, but she's just as cute. 18+
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Your younger popular self never would have imagined that you would be sitting in a circle with a bunch of losers who you punched in the face every day. Yet here you were, surrounded by violent losers, your favorite loser with a goofy smile on her face sitting to your left. Hazel looked over at you, making you remember how much you never would have expected that smile to make you so weak in the knees.
You still got butterflies thinking about the first time Hazel talked to you; a simple two-word compliment after your first spar made your heart flutter with giddy nerves. The interaction spurred you on enough to allow you to feel comfortable giving her friendly smiles. These quick greetings turned to light touches, then to bolder flirtatious statements, and eventually deep conversations that were cut off by school bells. You wondered when you'd finally gather the courage to discuss what you really wanted to tell her: you had been crushing on Hazel since the first day of eleventh grade. If only your classes were longer than 15 minutes.
"So, we know that the club has been a good way for us to feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a way for us to feel empowered emotionally," Josie kicked off the meeting on yet another unexpected note. You were grateful for the interruption in your spiraling thoughts.
The trauma-dumping session began, everyone adding their own little secrets and worries. You felt comforted by the supportive listening ears and voices around you. You had grown so close to these girls, so close that you ached hearing the tales of their pain. You felt your heart clench even more when Hazel timidly spoke up about her tense relationship with her mother.
"It's just been really good for me to get to know people who actually want to know me," she finished, eyes locking with yours before quickly fixing on her shoes.
"I just want to go back to Brittany for a second--" PJ began, but you didn't listen. You rested your hand on Hazel's knee, an offering of support, of friendship, or maybe something else. You completely tuned out the rest of the meeting when her own hand rested on yours. Her thumb stroked your wrist. Your whole body went stiff, but your hand felt like rippling water being held in hers.
"I think that's a good place to wrap up," PJ closed out the meeting, thanking everyone for their attendance as the rest of your friends filed out. You and Hazel didn't move, though. Your hand stayed on her knee, her thumb stayed gently gliding against the back of yours. Her sharp inhale was the only thing that got you to look up from the spot where you touched.
"Thank you," was all she said. You didn't have to ask why she was thankful, and she knew she didn't have to tell you. Something unspoken was always settled between your eyes as you stared.
"You're welcome." You removed your hand, not knowing if it had been there for too long or not long enough. "If you... If you ever want to keep talking about your mom or anything else that bothers you, I'm always here to listen." Hazel's gaze softened even more, which you didn't think was possible.
"Do you want to come over and talk more?" She said it so fast that even she seemed surprised by the question. "I mean-- only if you want to. We could watch a movie or I don't know. If it's stupid, I'm--"
"Yes," you assured her. "Let's go."
Her eyes widened like a cartoon character, so you began rising off of the gym floor to urge her on. "Oh-- okay. Great. Let's go."
...
The ride to Hazel's house was realistically no longer than 15 minutes. It felt like hours, though, with you using all of your energy to avoid staring at her ringed hands on the steering wheel. Your cheeks grew hot at the thought of what they would feel like on your bare skin. Your cheeks grew even hotter when you finally realized that Hazel had already parked the car and was watching you ogle her fingers.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked innocently.
"Nothing, sorry." You pushed the door open, waiting for her to lead you into her house.
One step in, you stifled a gasp. Hazel's home was almost as bright and beautiful as she was.
"Do you want to go up to my room? I can grab some snacks," she offered.
"Sure, sure." You followed her like a puppy as she led you through the breathtaking halls of her house. She gathered various food and DVDs before finally plopping down on her bed when you reached her room. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, unsure of where you were allowed to sit.
"Come here, you freak," she joked, patting the sheets next to her. You laughed as you tentatively sat at the edge of her bed. "I've had enough trauma-dumping for the day, so I'm thinking we should watch some Disney for a palette cleanser." You grinned like a little kid at the assortment of movies she had laid out before you. "Well?" she asked.
"Well, what?" you replied.
"Pick one." She looked up at you through her dark lashes. "The princess gets to pick the princess movie."
"Fuck off," you scoffed, shoving her playfully to prevent her from seeing how red your cheeks had gotten at the nickname. She simply raised her eyebrows, still waiting for your choice. "Fine." You pointed at the purple and yellow Tangled DVD case.
"Classic." She hopped off the bed and inserted the disc. When she rejoined you, you could have sworn she sat closer than she had originally. Don't think about it, you told yourself. You were just two friends who shared lingering glances and hand touches watching the most romantic princess movie known to man. That's all it was.
The movie was as wonderful as ever, if not more wonderful what with Hazel's poor renditions of all of the songs to entertain you. For the most part, you were able to sit comfortably beside each other. You were completely content to watch the screen, that is when you were able to ignore that you could feel her looking at you instead of the TV at times. It became impossible to ignore when the credits began rolling and you had no choice but to meet her eyes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.
She hesitated. "I didn't expect you to be so..."
"...not bitchy?" you finished her sentence.
She laughed, "Well, not exactly. I guess I just never would have guessed that you were so kind and supportive."
"Yeah, most people don't expect the popular cheerleader to be anything but a ditsy fucktoy for football players, I guess." You had meant it as a joke, but Hazel shot up in defense.
"That's not what I meant." She shook her head. "I think what I'm trying to say is that I never would have guessed that someone as cool and-- and beautiful as you would hang out with any one of us in the club."
"Honestly," you sighed. "I never would have guessed it either." You shared a laugh with Hazel, marveling at how sweet she sounded when she was happy.
"I'm really glad you joined the club," Hazel told you, suddenly seeming more shy. Her soft gaze melted your heart, yet somehow made you feel braver than ever before.
"You're the reason I love the club so much." You almost whispered it, so afraid of the reaction it would elicit. Hazel continued to look at you for so long that you considered changing the subject as a diversion from your confession. You were unable to speak, though, because Hazel quickly pressed her lips to yours.
The speed of the kiss shocked you at first, Hazel moving quickly as if she were afraid that you would run away. Your hands found her hair and she instantly relaxed, your lips melting together.
You didn't know that kissing could feel this good, this easy, this right. Despite never wanting to stop, you tugged on Hazel's hair to look at her gasping face.
"Are you okay?" she asked you, hands framing your face in concern.
"God, yes," you laughed. "I'm so good."
Your giggles were once again cut off by her lips. They chased yours with more urgency, so you slipped your tongue against hers. She moaned softly against your teeth, spurring on your ministrations until she detached herself from your mouth.
You almost protested at the lack of contact until you felt her wet lips trailing down your jaw and neck. You whined as she sucked and softly bit a sweet spot, reveling in the sound of her moaning at your own noises. Her hands snaked around your waist, slowly climbing up toward your breasts.
"Is this okay?" she breathed against your collarbone.
"Fuck, please." She let out a low chuckle at your begging, her laughter soon muffled against your skin as she slipped her head under your oversized shirt. You felt her breath dance across your tits, aching for her already. After one delicate kiss to your left nipple, moans filled your ears. Hazel emerged from beneath your clothes when you both realized that the sounds were coming from neither of you.
"Shit!" Hazel exclaimed. "I hate it when she does this." She collapsed onto the bed, breathless.
"Is... Is that your mom?"
"Yes," Hazel groaned from behind her hands. "She's very vocal."
"God, I'm sorry you have to hear that." The pair of you couldn't help but laugh at the obscene sounds from down the hall, clutching each other's arms in disbelief as they grew louder.
"I'm just sorry that we were interrupted," Hazel whispered against your hand before kissing your palm.
"I am, too," you agreed. "It's getting late, though. I should go." You nearly got teary-eyed when you saw the sadness on Hazel's face.
"Right," she said. "Let me take you home."
You found yourself wishing that you lived farther from Hazel when she pulled into your driveway after just a few minutes. You planted a quick kiss on her forehead before thanking her and walking to your front door.
"Wait!" you heard Hazel call your name through the rolled-down window. You bounced back over to her. "My mom's not going to be home this weekend. So, if you wanted to come over again, we could... you know..."
"...watch The Princess and the Frog next?" you joked.
Her infectious giggle sounded like Heaven. "You got it, princess." With one more soft kiss, she pulled away from your house.
The weekend couldn't come any sooner.
...
AHHHHH sorry I got so carried away with this but there will DEFINITELY be a smutty part three for all of you sluts. Let me know if you liked this one!
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rainylana · 1 year
Text
“I’m not jealous.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: jealousy over the new secretary at his job creates tension over dinner.
warnings: smut, language, jealous reader, threats of a spanking, dom eddie, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex.
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Forks scrapped against the dinner plates, chewing sounds and food pushing around with the utensil. A candle that still smoked from being blown out. The tv, still on. The lights flickered from a dying lightbulb. Jaw’s were tense and fist were balled up. To say less, the energy was awkward.
“You gonna keep ignoring me?” Eddie put down his fork, looking at you with annoyance.
“Mhm.“ You hummed, kicking your feet under the table.
He’d been late coming home for the fourth time this week. Your relationship with him was at an all time low, tense and angry. Neither of you knew why, but you didn’t like it. You both were always so stressed and angry, snapping and irritable.
He claimed that he had been working extra hours, but you knew there was a new girl working at the shop as a secretary, so your jealousy spiked to an all time high. He’d had the nerve to talk about her, talk about how good she was and how sweet and knowledgeable she was about cars. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose to make you jealous.
“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.” He leaned back with annoyance. “What’s the fuckin’ attitude for, huh?”
“Attitude?” You scoffed, putting down your fork. “I do not have an attitude. You’re the one who showed up late. I had dinner ready.”
He groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Angel, I told you I took up more hours. That means I’m working more hours.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m dumb.” You argued, pushing your plate forward with an angry huff.
“You’re actin’ it.” He challenged.
“Well, you’re just a dick.” You huffed, pouting your lip. “You should at least come home on time when you know I’ve got dinner made.”
“Oh, my god,” He chuckled in amazement. “What about more hours do you not understand? Are you feeling okay? Did you get your period?” He looked at you inquisitively.
“Oh, typical man.” You scoffed, crossing your arms in a huff. “Blaming my period on everything?”
“Well, are you?” He retorted.
“No!” You snapped, banging your fist against the table. “No, I’m not on my fucking period, Eddie, jesus!”
He groaned and buried his face in his hands, pressing hard against his forehead to numb his head ache. “Whatever.” He was going to drop it, not wanting to argue.
Maybe you were insecure, just simply jealous of the idea of another woman hanging around Eddie. It struck you odd, considering it had never bothered you before. You never typically got jealous. Eddie was always very good at assuring you that you were the only girl he had eyes for.
“Is this about Scarlett?” You could feel his eyes on you, your own looking down at the floor. “Because if it is, you need to tell me instead of biting my head off.”
He took your silence as a yes, and your eyes misted over, despite your best efforts.
“Y/n,” He sighed. “You know that’s stupid. I am not in slightest way interested in her.” He pressed, brown eyes trying to find yours, cocking his head in your direction.
“But you like her.” Your voice cracked, fingers digging into your skin.
“Yeah,” He nodded. “She’s good at her job. She’s got the credentials, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna up and marry her, y/n. Why are you so jealous of her?” He tried to get you to open up, reaching across the table to get you to look at him.
“M’ not jealous.” You pouted, a tear falling down your face.
“Put that lip away.” He said firmly, “Look at me and talk like a big girl.” His dominating tone made your belly warm, sending a chill down your spine that made you look up.
“I’m not jealous.” You tried again, eyes swelling into hearts at his beauty, even if he was irritated at you.
“Could have fooled me.” He raised a brow, crossing his arms like yours had been. “You just having a bad day or what? Because I’m warning you now you’re heading for a spanking if you don’t relax.”
The very threat made you throb, your cheeks flare up with warmth that he didn’t miss. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
He gave you a minute to calm down, tapping his fingers against the table, trying to find the words to make you feel better. “Y/n, you know there’s no reason to be jealous over her. Over anybody.” He said gently, holding out his hand for you to hold. He nodded to it, watching you reach out to take it.
“You and l know you’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for. I’m staying late because we need the money, because I’m trying to give you a good life. I could care less about her, y/n.” He squeezed your hand, speaking firmly, yet soft, trying to ease your stress. “I love you and only you, got it? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Why would I waste my time with someone else when I’ve got it made right here.”
Your eyes were swollen with tears that fell down you face, and you gave a nod that made him untense. “I know,” You hiccuped. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know, I just miss spending time with you.”
“It’s okay,” He smiled, rubbing your hand. “I just don’t want you worrying about this because there’s nothing to worry about.”
You smiled back and scooted closer to the table, sniffling. “Yeah.”
He reached out to wipe your cheek. “And I know you miss our time together. I miss it too, but we can still spend plenty of time together, honey. We’ll just have to adjust to this for the time being, okay? Nothing to get worked up about.”
You blushed, embarrassed at the tantrum you threw. “I’m sorry again.”
“Don’t be.” He soothed you. “I understand. Come here.” He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling you next to him so he could hug you lovingly. He was warm and embraced you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a tender hug.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a jackass.” He spoke into your neck, torsos glued together.
“Me too.” You muffled into his chest. “I’ve acted like such a spoiled brat.”
He chuckled into your hair. “You have, if I do say so, darling.”
You whined, nestling into his chest. “Not gonna spank me are you?” You smirked.
“I should,” He looked down at you. “But I’m not gonna, since you’ve got a valid reason for being upset, but I am gonna fuck the fussy out of you.”
Your belly twisted and you looked up with doe eyes. “Please, do,”
He hungrily kissed you, knocking your head back as his lips lurched forward in a needy kiss. He pulled you into his lap, your legs going either side of his on the seat as he kissed down your neck. You hummed happily, looking up to the ceiling as he left sticky, wet spots down your skin, suckling and marking as he went. He pulled down your shirt as far as he could, kissing the exposure of your breasts.
“Fuck,” You whimpered, rocking your hips into his growing bulge.
“Watch it,” He bit your shoulder. “I’ll still punish you.”
You clamped your mouth shut and grinded on his bulge as he sucked on your neck, moaning and curling your fingers in the curls of his hair. As much as you loved a good spanking from your boyfriend, he really knew how to make it hurt.
He picked you up and walked you over to the couch, dropping you on your back as he towered over you, smiling happily with shiny teeth. You smiled back, giggling lightly as he reconnected the kiss. He rested between your legs, reaching down to cup your pussy with his palm. You hummed with satisfaction, shimming down your shorts and underwear in one go. You went to go for his belt until he stopped you.
“No,” He grabbed your hand, giving it a delicate kiss. “All about you tonight, baby. Want you to know how much you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
He cupped your cheek and continued sucking on your neck, letting you relax as he dragged a finger through your folds, sending a shock through your body. He moved all the way down to your chest before he flung out shirt off, taking each of your nipples in his mouth and spending time to worship each of them, all the while he continued to graze over your pussy.
Then he moved to your arms, licking them with his tongue to your elbow before switching to the other. You were shaking, bucking into his hand and whispering pleas. He got to your stomach, giving a soft kiss to your navel as he finally pushed a finger inside of your cunt.
You moaned loudly, grabbing his hair.
“Feel better?” He smirked, coming up to you as he finger fucked your pussy.
You nodded, voice too full and shaky to speak coherently. He pressed another messy kiss to your lips, attacking his tongue with yours: His thumb went to your clit, circling and pressing, digging and swiping. It made you pant, shake and tremble in his arms. You had to break apart the kiss to cry out, looking up to the ceiling in euphoria. “I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed, rocking your body into him.
“Yeah?” He smiled coyly, entering yet another finger inside of you, rings shining with your arousal. “Fuckin’ cum then you little brat.”
You cried out as you came, your body shaking with pleasure as you sobbed and bit your lip. Eddie rubbed the heel of his palm against your clit, helping you through your high as he leaned his forehead against yours.
“I need you.” You panted hotly. “Please, need you bad.”
He hurriedly unbelted himself before rutting his thick cock into your pulsing cunt, making you scream as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Fuck,” He groaned, grabbing the arm of the couch as he looked down at his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. His pubic hair grazed at your overstimulated clit, making your muscles jolt and spasm. He thrusted faster and faster, the loud sound of skin slapping mixed with his heavy pants and your choked gasps and whines.
He came within seconds into your cunt, collapsing atop of you with a heavy huff,
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sidekick-hero · 5 months
Text
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(steddie | explicit | 7.1k | tags: Modern AU, Sex Worker Steve, Virgin Eddie, PWP, Sub Eddie/Soft Dom Steve | written for @subeddieweek | AO3 or complete fic under the cut)
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As Steve waited in an impersonal hotel room for his new client to arrive, things began to feel a little off.
In truth, the term "client" there was somewhat unconventional. Three guys had hired him to surprise their friend Eddie on his birthday.
Just moments ago, Steve had received a text message from the guys telling him that they were about to bring Eddie to this very room under the guise of getting his present. What Eddie didn't know was that Steve was going to be that present.
One of the trio, a younger man named Garrett or Gareth, had only half-jokingly suggested that Steve should greet Eddie wearing nothing but a bow around his dick. Thankfully, the others had vetoed the idea, calling it cheesy and lame and saying it would only scare Eddie off. Steve couldn't help but feel a little offended by that because the last time his dick had frightened someone away had been in high school. He had been her first and she had been too intimidated by his size. Other than that, he had never had any complaints, thank you very much.
He hadn't talked to them directly when they had asked for his services; that was Robin's domain. She handled the initial negotiations, background checks, and vetting of potential clients before Steve even learned of their existence. Trusting Robin's judgment, he assumed these men were legitimate. Yet, there was something off about the whole situation.
Their lack of experience with this kind of thing was evident, demonstrated by their inquiry about kissing etiquette like this was Pretty Woman ("you have to tell Eddie if kissing is not okay dude") and their less-than-tactful remarks. When Steve had entered the hotel room, one of them, whom they had referred to as Freak, had made a comment about Steve certainly not being Eddie’s type, prompting Garrett/Gareth to reply "Nah, he secretly likes those pretty frat boy types, he'd just never admit it".
But it had been the quiet, earnest demeanor of Jeff, the third man, that had given Steve pause. Jeff had pulled him aside with a solemn plea to be careful with Eddie.
"Hey, man, you seem like a nice guy, and your manager Robin assured us that you'd take good care of Eddie. Just. Be gentle with him. He acts tough sometimes, but he deserves someone to be sweet to him, okay?"
Steve had just nodded dumbly, thrown by the unusual request. Most of the time his clients booked him directly, and while some had asked him to fuck them soft and slow, Jeff's request had sounded different to him. As if there was something they weren’t telling him about this Eddie.
Perhaps the guy had been hurt before, scarred by a past relationship, and now he approached any kind of intimacy with trepidation. Steve had had a few women hire him to help them get over something like that, so it wasn’t totally unheard of. No men had, but then again, he had only been offering his services to men for a few months, so maybe Eddie was just the first of his male clients with these kind of issues.
If Eddie was indeed struggling with past hurts, then Steve was determined to make him feel cherished and desired once again.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the sound of voices growing louder outside.
Fuck, Steve thought startled. Even though he had been waiting for them, it still came as a surprise that they were already there. One for which he felt completely unprepared, because it was only then that he began to think about how to position himself.
"I don't know why you couldn't just give it to me later or tomorrow, guys," someone said with amusement just outside the door. That must have been Eddie, he thought, and found that he liked his voice.
The next voice was Garrett/Gareth's. "Believe us, Eds, you want it now. Come on, hurry up."
"Okay, okay, fine. Since when are you more excited about me getting presents than I am?"
Steve opted for simplicity and decided to sit on the bed, leaning back with his hands behind him. It was casual and easy, but also showed off the long line of his body.
The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot was followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opened, revealing the lucky guy who would have him for the next two hours.
He’s pretty, was the first thing that came to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, was his face. The pale skin was a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that looked at him like a deer in the headlights.
Then, the door closed with a bang.
“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembled slightly and Steve was torn between worry and amusement.
Faintly he heard the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"
"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorted, and Steve rolled his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thought he was really funny.
Eddie seemed to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"
This was one of those nights when Steve wished he had been smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have had to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.
"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupted, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."
Steve wondered if they knew he could hear every word they were saying. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they weren’t exactly quiet. He just hoped nobody called the cops.
"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"
Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opened the door and pulled Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They did, closing the door behind them, and then they all looked at Steve, who was still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that had led him there.
He gave a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."
Eddie blinked at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remained unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitated to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie was limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he felt an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge was unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hit him.
"This is Steve," Gareth introduced, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glanced around, hoping for support from the others, but they remained silent.
With the air of someone who didn’t expect any different, Steve rose from his spot on the bed and approached Eddie. As he stood before him, Steve was enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, held a warm hue that was quite captivating.
Steve flashed a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.
"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declared, though technically, twenty minutes had already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve was willing to make an exception.
Eddie, inexplicably, horrifyingly, burst out laughing before slapping a hand over his own mouth, his eyes even wider than before as they looked at Steve in abject horror.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, it's just this whole situation is so... and then that sounded like... I feel like I stumbled into a porn plot."
Eddie looked embarrassed by his reaction, but Steve had to agree. It all felt a little ridiculous all of a sudden and he thought he could use that to his advantage, to make Eddie feel more comfortable.
"I guess you're not wrong," Steve laughed playfully, rubbing a hand across his neck. "That was a line that could have come out of a bad porno. Let me try again." He took Eddie's hand in his own and gave him a smile, a real one this time. "Hi, I'm Steve, and your friends hired me to be your birthday present. What that means is that I'm here to make sure you have a good time, a great one even. Just tell me what you'd like to do, as long as it's nothing crazy, I'm in. I don't do pain play, nothing that leaves bruises or cuts, no breath play, no hard kink of any kind and no barebacking."
"Oh my God, you are here as a sex gift," Eddie exclaimed way too loudly as Steve finished listing the things he wouldn't do, turning even paler. Steve was so focused on Eddie that he hadn’t even noticed the other men leaving the room, but upon seeing Eddie's shocked reaction, he realized they were already gone.
"I can't believe they hired a sex worker to deflower me. I told them to leave it the fuck alone. God, this is so fucking embarrassing," Eddie whined, burying his face in his hands with a long and anguished groan.
It tugged at Steve's heartstrings, the way Eddie pulled away from him, clearly embarrassed. His first instinct was to pull him into his arms and tell him it was okay, that Steve got him. But Eddie's words continued to ring in his ears as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Deflower me. As in, he was supposed to take Eddie's virginity. That's why the others had been so weird about it, and why Eddie had been so shocked and clueless when he found him in his room.
Jeff's words came back to him, "be gentle with him" and "he deserves someone to be sweet to him". It wasn't that Eddie was necessarily recovering from past hurts, but that there were no past experiences. Or maybe there had been, and that was why he had never gone all the way. Because looking at him, Steve had a hard time understanding how anyone could not want to sleep with Eddie.
"Eddie," Steve tried gently, "are you...have you ever had sex with anyone?"
Peering at Steve through his fingers, Eddie shook his head.
"Did you, I mean, have you done things like handjobs, blowjobs, anything like that?"
Another anguished groan as Eddie shook his head again.
"Making out? Kissing?" Steve had to know what he was working with here, because the last thing he wanted was to do something Eddie wasn't ready for.
This at least made Eddie lower his hands so that Steve could see the expression on his face. He looked even more embarrassed, his flushed cheeks red, but there was some indignation in his eyes. "I've kissed before. And made out with someone. Well, above the waist. And fully clothed. But it still counts!"
Eddie's voice sounded almost pleading and it left Steve aching for him. He had no idea why someone as gorgeous as Eddie hadn't had sex yet, but he knew he shouldn't act like there was something wrong with him because of it.
"Hey, man, it's okay. Really, I'm not judging you," Steve tried to reassure him. He was tempted to reach out and offer some physical comfort as well, but he wasn't sure how welcome that would be as Eddie laughed bitterly at his words.
"Oh, please. I'm judging me! I'm turning 30 today and no one's even touched my dick. I'm pathetic."
Steve did reach out to him then, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Hey, come on now. There's nothing pathetic about it. Everyone's journey is different, and there's no rush."
Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumping under Steve's touch. "Easy for you to say. You've probably had more action than you can count."
Steve chuckled softly. "Maybe, but that doesn’t mean anything. Quality over quantity, right?"
Eddie gave him a weak smile, but the tension in his expression remained. "I just feel like I missed out on something, you know? I grew up in a small and even more small-minded town in Indiana where it was impossible to find another gay kid without risking getting beaten up or worse. They had it out for me anyway because...well, it doesn't matter. By the time I finally left and moved to Chicago, I was 21 and hadn't even kissed anyone except Lisa Green in eighth grade, which only confirmed what I already suspected. I made out with a few guys in clubs and bars here, but it always felt... wrong. I didn't need to be romanced or anything, but I just... I wanted to feel some kind of connection, y'know? But anyone who wanted to date me, I was too scared to tell them that I had no experience whatsoever, too in my head about it. And before I know it, I'm 30 years old and my friends are hiring an incredibly hot guy to pity-fuck me."
Steve nodded sympathetically. "It's not a pity fuck, Eddie. But I get it. Just, believe me, sex isn't everything. And it's definitely not a measure of your worth."
Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to my libido."
Steve couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Fair point. But seriously, Eddie, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. When the right moment comes along, you'll know.”
With an expression of utter defeat, Eddie mumbled. “Figured not even someone getting paid for it would want to sleep with me.” Then, he turned around and walked over to the door. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Steve. Thank you for being so nice.”
“Whoa, wait a second. I never said I don’t wanna sleep with you. I just assumed, y’know, that you’d want to wait for the right guy.”
Eddie looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s fine Steve, I understand. There’s nothing sexy about a 30 year old virgin, you don’t have to lie.” Then, hanging his head, he pulled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands in his pockets, making himself as small as humanly possible while still standing.
Steve couldn't stand to see Eddie so down on himself any longer, so he decided to show him exactly how much he wanted to sleep with him by simply pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up. Then he reached down, unzipped his pants and stepped out of them as well, so that he was standing in front of Eddie in nothing but his underwear. He hoped to make himself at least a quarter as vulnerable as Eddie must have felt at that moment.
"Eddie, please look at me." When Eddie did, his eyes roamed over Steve's body as if he couldn't help himself, and Steve felt their gaze like a physical touch. He was accustomed to people looking at him with hunger and desire, and while Eddie's face showed signs of both, there was something else in his expression—a hint of longing, if Steve were pressed to put a name to it.
As the seconds ticked by, Steve wondered if Eddie would ever grow tired of drinking him in, since he showed no signs of being done anytime soon. But Steve began to suspect that maybe Eddie wasn't doing anything else because he didn't know what or how, so Steve had to take the lead here.
Closing the distance between them, he took Eddie's hands again, but this time he didn't hold them; he placed them on his hips. "You can touch me, Eddie. I want you to. I want you. So if you want me too, all you have to do is tell me." When Eddie continued to look at him wide-eyed, Steve asked him in his softest, most encouraging voice, "What do you want, Eddie?"
"I don't know." Eddie's hands on his hips trembled slightly, but his grip tightened, thumbs running up and down Steve's flanks. "You. Whatever you want."
Well, that was easy. "I want to make you feel good. Can I?"
"Please."
No one had ever looked at Steve the way Eddie did at that moment. It was as if Steve was the last drop of water in the desert—not like he wanted Steve, but like he needed him.
Steve cupped his face in his hands and pulled him close, whispering in the infinitesimal space between them, "I got you, baby," before sealing their lips in a tender kiss.
True to his words, Eddie kissed him back as if he had kissed people before, even if not very often. His lips still moved a little awkwardly against Steve's, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in feeling. Not even his actual girlfriends had ever kissed him the way Eddie was kissing him right now - like he couldn't believe he was allowed to do it, wavering between greedy hunger and grateful adoration that made Steve's head spin.
As they kissed, Steve felt a rush of warmth flood through him, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just physical attraction; there were the first stirrings of an emotional connection forming between them, one that felt utterly inappropriate within the confines of their current situation.
On the other hand, Steve reasoned with himself, Eddie deserved someone who would be sweet to him, as Jeff had put it. Given how he was starting to feel about Eddie, that wasn't going to be a challenge at all.
Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie's, their breaths mingling in the space between them. "You're amazing, Eddie," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink and he smiled shyly. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."
Steve chuckled softly, a warmth spreading in his chest at Eddie's response. "What do you say we take this to the bed?"
Eddie nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Good," Steve said, taking Eddie by the hips as well and beginning to slowly walk them backwards, their eyes never leaving each other's.
As they made their way to the bed, Steve's heart pounded with anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment, one that could change everything for him.
Once they reached the bed, Steve gently guided Eddie to sit down, their knees touching as they faced each other. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the promise of what was to come.
Steve took Eddie's hands in his own, his touch gentle yet firm. "Eddie, I want you to know that we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he said softly, wanting to reassure him.
Eddie met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and desire. "I trust you, Steve," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. Steve had no idea how Eddie could trust him so easily after just meeting him, but he vowed to do right by him and not betray the trust placed in him.
With a gentle smile, Steve leaned in to kiss Eddie again, his lips meeting Eddie's with a tender urgency. This time Steve took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into the wet heat of Eddie's mouth, gently coaxing Eddie to join him in exploring each other.
The first tentative touch of Eddie's tongue to his own sent sparks of electricity through him and he would have been embarrassed by the moan that fell from his lips had it not been for the almost violent shudder that went through Eddie at the simple touch. When their lips parted, Steve glanced at the other man and found him looking tense, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, and suddenly his reaction made sense.
"Baby, you can touch me. Don't hold back, I want you to show me how good I make you feel."
Closing his eyes with a pained expression, Eddie sighed deeply, defeated. "I feel like I don't know how. I don't want to mess it up. I mean, you must be used to incredible sex and then there's me, probably accidentally pinching you or something."
"Eddie," Steve said, wrapping his own hands around Eddie's clenched ones, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you'll never learn if you don't try. It's like riding a bike. You can't learn it in theory, you have to get on it and ride it." And because Steve worried that might have been a little harsh, he added: "I'm your training wheels, and after tonight you can upgrade to a bike without them." Uncurling Eddie's hands and intertwining their fingers, Steve nudged their shoulders together. "Soooo. Wanna go for a ride?"
Eddie's lips twitched into a small smile at Steve's analogy, and some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. "Okay, maybe I can give it a try," he said, his voice uncertain but determined.
Steve couldn't help but admire Eddie's bravery in the face of his own insecurities. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead, offering silent encouragement.
With a deep breath, Eddie tentatively began to explore Steve's body, his touch hesitant yet eager. Steve guided him with soft murmurs of encouragement, reassuring him every step of the way.
At some point, Steve shifted back onto the bed and lay down on the sheets, offering more of himself to Eddie's curious hands. They were especially drawn to his chest, scratching the thick hair, and when Steve made an appreciative sound, Eddie let them wander to Steve's nipples.
"Start slow, run your thumb over them." Eddie did as Steve told him, and Steve noticed how every encouragement from him seemed to hit Eddie with another wave of arousal. His eyes darkened even more after Steve told him, "Just like that, baby. You're doing so good, learning so fast. Now try adding some spit so your thumb glides easier."
Eddie had been eagerly and obediently following his instructions the whole time, so Steve wasn't surprised when he immediately went to put Steve's latest order into action. What he didn't expect, however, was that Eddie would simply put his mouth on his nipple instead of wetting his thumb with it.
"Fuck," he moaned, his hands digging into Eddie's hair without his conscious decision, desperately trying to keep his mouth on his chest. "So good for me, such a good boy, just like that."
His words only spurred Eddie on, who moaned needily at his words, and as his confidence grew, so did his boldness. Steve felt the first tentative touch of teeth against his skin, setting his nerves on fire, and he encouraged Eddie to keep going by tugging at his curls. "Harder, baby."
Being the wonderful, beautiful, good boy that he was, Eddie went harder, his teeth making sure to leave marks on his chest. It was an intoxicating feeling to be laid out here, almost naked, while Eddie was still fully clothed, and yet it was Steve who was in control.
So far he had been able to ignore his cock, hard and heavy and leaking into his trunks. But it was getting harder and harder, pun intended, to keep his need for relief in check. It wasn't often that a client made him feel like he was about to lose his mind with lust, but Eddie was shaping up to be his exception in so many ways.
"Baby, you're incredible. I'm so hard for you, I need you to touch me or I'll lose my goddamn mind."
That finally gave Eddie pause. Pulling back from his mission to cover every inch of Steve's chest in bruises and bite marks, he lifted his head and looked down at where Steve's hard cock was obscenely tenting his trunks.
Watching Eddie wet his lips with his tongue, Steve decided to take a chance. "Can you take them off for me, darling? They're getting awfully uncomfortable."
That startled Eddie out of his silent reverie, his big brown eyes, which had captivated Steve from the start, turning to him. "You mean..."
"Only if you want to. We're not doing anything you're not ready for," Steve made sure to reassure him once again that while Steve was taking the lead here, Eddie was the one calling the shots. If he told him to stop, Steve would, no questions asked. "But if you're afraid of getting it wrong, I want you to know that nothing has ever felt as right as your hands and mouth on me. You couldn't get it wrong if you tried, baby."
It seemed to be just the right thing to say because Eddie leaned down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss, his weight balanced on his forearm next to Steve's head. His hand, still resting on Steve's chest, began to move again, fingertips dancing across his ribs and down his stomach until they reached their destination just above his waistband.
Eddie had moved to lie more comfortably next to Steve when he had let his hands and mouth map Steve's body, but now he positioned himself next to Steve's knees.
He looked up at Steve as his fingers curled around the waistband of his trunks, and tougher men than Steve would have had a hard time not falling in love with him right then and there. His lips, still slick with spit from their kiss, were slightly parted while his bottomless eyes looked at Steve with something akin to worship. Steve's fingers had done a great job of making his dark curls look even messier, and he was almost as proud of that as he was of the red flush that adorned Eddie's throat and cheeks.
"Do it," he order-pleaded, and Eddie listened as he had all night, pulling down Steve’s last piece of clothing and throwing it on the floor next to the bed.
The expression on his face was almost comical, breaking the thick tension in the room for a moment. Steve knew he wasn't exactly small. Not even average, but it had been a while since anyone had stared at his dick like it was a venomous snake.
"It won't bite you, I promise," he joked as the silence between them stretched on.
That at least got a snort out of Eddie, even if his eyes were still glued to his hard and leaking cock, which didn't seem to mind being stared at with a mixture of apprehension and wonder.
"I know that. It's just..." Eddie began before trailing off.
A thought occurred to Steve. "You've seen a dick before, right?"
In retrospect it might have been a bit insulting and a lot stupid to ask, but then again this wasn't exactly his area of expertise.
"Yes, Steve. Besides my own, I've seen dicks. Just not... y'know... a monster dick like that. I mean, fuck. Are you sure this thing will even fit?"
His first reaction was to laugh, because Eddie was funny and adorable in his incredulity, but the laughter died rather quickly as the rest of his words registered with Steve.
"Fit? As in - do you want me to fuck you?"
That finally made Eddie blink up at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "Um, yeah? I thought that was the plan all along."
It wasn't. Steve thought he'd show Eddie the ropes, how to handle another body, so he could experience his first time with someone he genuinely cared about. Not that Steve had that when he lost his virginity, but he thought Eddie deserved it.
But if Eddie was sure, Steve was more than happy to oblige. "Just checking in. And don't worry. It'll fit. It always has, it just takes a little patience and a lot of lube." When Eddie still looked a little doubtful, he added, "Do you trust me?"
"Yes." No hesitation, and that made the dangerous feeling in his chest glow brighter.
"Good, that makes it even easier. You need to be comfortable, relaxed. The more you can let go, the easier it will be."
Eddie nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Okay, Steve. You're the expert. I trust you. Just. Remember, I have no idea what I'm doing, okay?"
Steve sat up and cupped Eddie's cheek in his hand. "I know, and I'll take good care of you, I promise," Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.
After they parted, he tugged at Eddie's shirt. "You're awfully overdressed, sweetheart. Mind if I help you get out of these?"
With Eddie's consent, Steve undresses him, slowly, reverently. He removed each piece of clothing with the same care as he would handle a precious gem, his hands gentle, making sure to appreciate every inch of skin that was revealed to him. And after his hands have had their fill, his mouth follows, his lips branding his ownership in invisible writing all over Eddie's body.
He paid special attention to Eddie's tattoos, and when he found the nipple piercings, Steve's brain short-circuited. He only stopped playing with them when Eddie was writhing and whimpering from the stimulation, his arousal clear in the way sweat slicked his skin and the outline of his hard cock was visible through his skin-tight jeans.
"Steve, please," he begged, and Steve was pretty sure Eddie didn't even know for what.
"Shh, I got you, baby," Steve had cooed in reply before continuing his mission to get Eddie naked and under him.
Soon the positions were reversed and Eddie was spread out on the bed, naked and wanting, while Steve was kneeling beside him, his hand stroking Eddie's thigh soothingly as he drank him in.
"Fuck, Eddie, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're so fucking beautiful, the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe you let me have you."
Eddie squirmed, clearly turned on but still self-conscious. Steve vowed to make the latter go away and replace it with nothing but mindless pleasure, helping Eddie let go and float on all the good feelings Steve would make him feel.
He had gotten the lube and a condom out of his bag while Eddie had made himself comfortable, placing them both next to them on the bed. Now he spread some lube on his fingers and warmed it up as he moved to climb between Eddie's legs. His own cock had gone back to half hard, but showed some renewed interest when Eddie immediately spread his legs wider to make room for him.
"Such a good boy, you're just perfect, you know that?"
Then Steve rewarded his good boy with the first finger in his virgin whole. He didn't want it to matter, and it didn't, not in the way Eddie thought it would. But the thought that he was the first to see Eddie like that, to feel him clench around the foreign intrusion before slowly, gradually relaxing as Steve continued to stroke the inside of his thigh with his other hand? It all made more heat pool in his groin, his cock full and heavy again between his own legs.
"That's it," Steve encouraged him as his finger sank in to his knuckle, " taking it so well. How does it feel, baby?"
"Weird," Eddie said truthfully, before wriggling his hips. "Full. Not bad, just. Weird."
Steve took that as all the encouragement he needed to start pumping the finger in and out in imitation of what he planned to do to Eddie with his cock. It went easily and soon Eddie was matching his thrusts with his hips. "That's right, take what you need. You look so good fucking yourself on my finger, sweetheart. You'll look even better on my cock."
Judging that Eddie was ready for a second finger, he leaned forward and softly called for Eddie to look at him. When he did, lifting his head from where he had pressed it into the pillow, Steve caught his eyes and held them as he slowly closed his lips around Eddie's hard cock, taking it into his mouth inch by delicious inch.
It worked like a charm as Eddie was too busy throwing his head back with a broken moan to even notice Steve adding another finger. It was only when he started pumping both fingers in and out while still licking and sucking on Eddie's cock like his favorite ice cream that Eddie seemed to notice, tightening around him for a moment before relaxing again.
Steve rewarded him with a clever swirl of his tongue and a well-aimed crook of his fingers that made Eddie scream.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck was that," Eddie gasped as Steve pulled off of him with an obscenely wet sound.
With a third finger prodding at Eddie's slick hole, Steve grinned up at him. "Your prostate."
"I thought that was a myth."
"Nope, not a myth. Just hard to reach by yourself."
He took Eddie back into his mouth, his finger persistently nudging at his entrance until it finally slipped in alongside his other two fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eddie balling the sheets in his clenched fists, trying not to thrash around too much. The thought of feeling that around his cock was almost too much, as Eddie was incredibly responsive and Steve had to think of something unpleasant for a second to calm himself.
Steve continued to blow and finger Eddie until he could feel Eddie's cock hardening even more in his mouth, signaling his impending orgasm. His three fingers sank into him like a warm knife into butter, no resistance whatsoever, so Steve considered Eddie ready to try and take his 'monster dick' as he had so eloquently put it earlier.
Eddie's whimper as he pulled his fingers out of his body sounded desperate, and when Steve also pulled off his dick, Eddie was right back to begging.
"Please, Steve, I was so close, so fucking close, I need you, please," he babbled, exactly in that mindless place where only his own pleasure mattered instead of his own insecurities.
In a true display of multi-tasking, Steve managed to stroke Eddie's thigh soothingly while simultaneously ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth. It was almost a shame that Eddie was so far gone that he didn't even notice.
Next time, Steve thought, immediately chastising himself for getting ahead of himself. There was no guarantee that Eddie would want to go out with the guy his friends had paid to deflower him.
"Shh, baby, almost there, just getting ready to make you feel really good. I can't wait to be inside you, Eddie, you have no idea."
Slicking his condom-covered cock, Steve took a pillow from the bed and placed it under Eddie's hips before wrapping Eddie's right leg around his waist as he positioned himself. Eddie looked up at him with dazed eyes, like he was still floating somewhere, not quite here. And even though Steve wanted him to remain there, he needed Eddie's attention right now.
"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" He could tell it was a struggle, but shaking his head like he was clearing cowebs, Eddie came back to him. "Thanks, baby, you're still so good for me, aren't you?" Eddie nodded eagerly and Steve continued. "I need you to be a good boy and do what I tell you. When I push in, I need you to press down on it as if you were trying to push me out. Can you try that?" Another nod, this one firm, determined. "And breathe, baby, deep breaths. I got you, we'll take it as slow as you need."
And with that, Steve began to push in, trusting Eddie to work with him. And he did, beautifully, doing exactly what Steve told him to do. Still, it was clear that it was a lot to take, his cock even thicker and longer than his three fingers. It was slow going, every inch fought for, and by the time Steve was halfway in they were both covered in sweat, so Steve decided to take a short break.
Eddie was having none of it, though, and looked up at him pleadingly. "Steve? Please don't stop. I want you inside."
"But I am already inside," Steve reminded him, as if Eddie had forgotten how he was being impaled on Steve's cock right now.
"More." Reaching out for Steve with his hand, Eddie replied with only one word, but it was enough to make Steve fall forward, inadvertently sinking a little further.
He didn't try to stop again.
Then, finally, blessedly, Steve sank all the way in, Eddie's muscles relaxing enough to let him in entirely. It wasn't his first time, far from it, but it could very well have been from the way it made him feel to be enveloped in Eddie's tight heat. Steve couldn't tell who was looking more starry-eyed, Eddie or him, as they stared at each other in wonder.
"You feel," Steve began, suddenly at a loss for words. "Like nothing I've ever felt before."
"Move," Eddie pleaded in reply, his eyes traitorously bright. "Please, Steve."
Steve could never deny him, not when he begged like that, so he simply kissed Eddie's cheek, his nose, and then his lips as his hips withdrew before sinking back in. Picking up a slow and easy rhythm, Steve began to move and soon Eddie was meeting him thrust for thrust.
They moved together in a slow, sensual dance, each touch and caress igniting a fire within them. Each thrust tore another sound from their throats, muffled by each other's lips, because try as he might, he couldn't stop kissing Eddie. And as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, Steve knew he wouldn't come back from it unchanged. He already felt a sense of connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, fitting perfectly.
He just hoped that Eddie felt the same, that it wasn't just the magic of firsts that made him gasp and beg and say things that made Steve's heart soar as much as his cock twitch.
"Steve, Steve, Steve," he cried, his voice cracking, "oh God, I never thought...fuck," another moan as Steve hit his prostate once more. "How do people do anything but this?" Eddie marveled as he tightened around Steve, desperately wanting him to press against that wonderful spot inside him. "I never want to leave this bed again, just let you fuck me all day long."
Oh, how much Steve would love that too. To stop himself from saying something crazy like 'yes, please move in with me so we can fuck as often as possible', he reached for Eddie's hand on his hip and intertwined their fingers next to Eddie's head, squeezing his hand instead of spilling all his messy feelings.
The new position had him sinking further down on Eddie, Eddie's hard cock trapped between their bellies and the added friction had him gasping and panting. "Fuck, Steve, I'm so close."
"Yeah, me too, baby. Can you be a good boy and hold on a little longer for me?"
Unable to form any more words, Eddie just nodded. Steve rewarded him with another deep kiss as his hips picked up speed, his thrusting becoming more powerful as he finally allowed himself to chase his own pleasure. He wanted, needed them to come together, and judging by the copious amount of pre-cum smeared against their bellies and the way Eddie's cock kept twitching, Eddie was really close.
As he felt the telltale signs of his own orgasm spreading through him, his balls tightening and the feeling of a coil in his groin being pulled tight enough to snap at any moment, he lowered his face to Eddie's ear, took the lobe between his teeth and tugged at it to get his attention. Then, putting every ounce of heat, lust and desire he felt right now into his voice, he rasped, "Come for me, baby."
Without a hand on him, Eddie came with a sound that burned itself into Steve's memory and would surely haunt his dreams for weeks and months to come.
Overwhelmed by Eddie's sounds as he lost himself in his own pleasure, his hips bucking and grinding, Steve couldn't help but follow him over the edge. When he finally came, it was almost painful in its intensity and he could barely keep himself upright.
It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch his breath, and even longer to pull himself away from Eddie long enough to get rid of the condom and fetch a washcloth from the bathroom to clean the cum from their bellies and chests.
Then he turned off the light, crawled back into bed with Eddie and pulled the covers over them before drawing Eddie into his arms, who went willingly, still suspiciously quiet. Steve would have been more concerned had it not been for the dazed smile on his face, so he decided to let him be for the moment, basking in the afterglow as he continued to stroke Eddie's back.
What felt like hours later, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie's temple, feeling a surge of affection and contentment wash over him.
"I'm glad you decided to go for that ride," he whispered, warmth coloring his voice.
Eddie snuggled closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Me too," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of happiness and wonder.
And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace, Steve knew he had found something truly special in Eddie. Tomorrow he would tell Robin to give the guys their money back because Eddie hadn't been a client from the start. It was way too soon to even think about it, but deep down he hoped that theirs would be the kind of love that was as beautiful and enduring as the stars in the night sky.
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adventuringblind · 7 months
Text
She's My Princess
Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: Daniel Spoils his girl... That's it. That's the plot.
Warnings: Soft dom Daniel, Daddy kink, BDSM, Voyeurism (if you squint), bondage, age-play (again, if you really look hard enough), choking
Notes: This is my happy place, right here. Mildly self-indulgent but all fanfiction is so I don't care. I hope the requester likes it!!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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This side of Daniel is something she sees often. He's a soft person and treats her as such. Dotes on her like she's a porcelain doll.
He zips the back of her dress and ties her shoes. He carries her bag to the car and buckles her in. It makes her feel small, entirely to warm inside.
"I'm sorry we have to go out tonight." His plan had been to ravish her until she couldn't think. Until they got a surprise call from Max saying he's in town for a couple days and wants to get dinner.
It had been over a month since they saw Max last, and Daniel had only said yes after he talked with her about it.
Daniel, still very intent on keeping his promise, has been not letting her do anything for herself all day long. She's been spoiled far more than necessary, but every ounce of insecurity only made Daniel more intent.
"It'll be nice to see everyone!" She assures. "I could care less about what we do as long as you're there."
"How did I get so lucky?" She blushes under his gaze and tries to look away, but Daniel's fingers foil her. "If you're good for dinner, I'll make this whole thing up to you later. Sound good?"
"Yes daddy."
He pats her cheek. "That's my girl."
He holds her hand as they walk inside. He pulls her chair out for her at the table of drivers.
Daniel makes small talk with the guys and the WAGS that had come with. She tries, but her mind is focused on Daniels hand sneaking up her thigh.
She tries to ignore when he rubs a finger over the thin lace of her panties. She's mid-sentence and ends up stuttering, but she manages to pull herself together. Daniel teases her about the blush on her face.
He keeps up his antics until dessert when he slips a finger into her, obnoxiously wet cunt. She, not so gracefully, chokes on her water. She makes not a sound after. It's not like they've never done this before. Daniel's just not making this any easier with the way he keeps calling her a good girl in her ear.
It feels like an eternity until they can leave. When Daniel finally helps her out of her chair and guides her to the car.
The drive home takes an interesting turn when Daniel has her sucking him off while he's driving. He's skilled in multitasking. Specifically in the art of fucking her throat and keeping his eyes on the road.
Daniel paints her mouth white during a particularly long light. She gets satisfaction in knowing this is what she does to him. That he's desperate enough to fuck her mouth while he drives because he can't wait.
The Aussie hauls her into the house and throws her onto the bed like she weighs nothing. Which is quite the compliment in her eyes. Her body, in her opinion, should not be that easy to carry.
"You did so good tonight, Princess." He kisses her, open mouthed and dirty. He sucks on her tongue and makes a whimpering mess out of her.
Her literally rips her dress off. A whispered promise to buy her a new one is said against her chest. Right before he swirls his tongue around her nipple, alternating between each side. His hands press into her upper back, pulling her further into him.
"Daddy, please - need you."
Daniel moves lower and settles between her thighs. He makes a point to blow on her on her before flattening his tongue and licking upwards.
Her hands find his hair. An attempt to ground her thrashing body. It makes no difference. Daniel still has to pin her hard enough to leave bruises.
His teeth graze over her clit. He sucks on her in the way that drivers her insane. Until the only word she knows is his name.
"Daddy - need to - pleassseee-" Her eyes roll back into her head as Daniel double down on his efforts. The permission is non-verbal in the way he taps her thigh a few times, allowing no break.
She releases onto his tongue. It's wet and it's everywhere and Daniel cleans every bit of it with his mouth.
He launches upwards to kiss her. She can taste herself on his shiny lips. He doesn't give her a break. Three fingers are jammed into her and she wails.
"You're doing so good baby girl. Taking everything I give you." The sounds he's making with her pussy are obscene. His fingers curl upward, sending her body spiraling.
A hand puts pressure around her throat. She sucks in as much air as she can, but inevitable her vision starts to go dark. Daniel opens and closes his hand in perfectly timed intervals, keeping her right on the edge of coherency.
"Cum for me princess, you can do it. We've gone for more rounds than this before."
Daniel has to pin her with effort this time around. He doesn't stop talking, the roughness of his voice rings through her ears. "Such a good girl for me. Just gorgeous like this, a right fucking messy slut, aren't you."
Daniel moves off the bed to get the rest of his clothes off. She cries real tears at the loss. Still to disoriented to know where he is. "Oh baby, I'm still here. You feeling fuzzy? Needy for my cock?" Embarrassment and shame are nothing to her as her tongue rolls out of her mouth and her head nods yes.
Daniel ties a rope around her wrists and secures it to the headboard. He chuckles as she watches him with glassy eyes and no resistance, just dead weight as he tries to adjust her position.
It takes entirely to long for Daniel to get inside of her. For her to feel his body pressed against her. His hips rutting into her, desperate and dominating. She couldn't fight him if she tried.
The pace he sets is relentless. The free hand not holding him up is rubbing at her clit. His mouth close enough to to brush up against hers, but he's still talking to her. Keenly aware of what his voice does to her. She's not sure what he's even saying, aside from that she's a good girl; his princess.
His teeth latch onto her throat, biting and sucking away at it until she thinks she might actually be bleeding onto his tongue. "Mine, all mine. My perfect little girl."
His thrusts are getting sloppy. She's been pushed past the point of overstimulated and isn't sure she can come again. "Let go for me baby, I know you can. I wanna feel you tighten around me. Can you do that for daddy?"
She's crying again. She cums so hard that it hurts her muscles. The line between pain and pleasure is blurred once again as Daniel wraps his hand around her throat again, completely cutting off her air.
She's choking on her scream. Barely aware that Daniel is painting her insides for the second time tonight. There are no thoughts aside from him.
Calming down is harder than expected. She's still twitching when Daniel is untying her. His hands caress her sides and praise her until she's able to breathe again.
Daniel carries her to the bathroom and gets them cleaned up. She's entirely to out of it, still partially crying and refusing to let go of his hand.
"Feeling good still, princess?" She hums happily as Daniel tucks them into bed. "Go to sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up."
She curls up on top of his chest. Daniels arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling off him. "I love you, my perfect princess."
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Guilty as Sin? — Chapter Five
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pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader
rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, oral (fem!rec), mutual masturbation, lots of ogling, romantic Javi will be the death of me, dirty talk, little bit of angst thrown in, reader's never experienced oral, think that's it for now
word count: 4k
series masterlist
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You didn’t attend Dr. Peña’s office hours that day, too exhausted by your crumbling social life to deal with whatever it was he wanted to talk about with you in private. Instead, you spent the night grocery shopping, decorating your new place, and getting a jump start on Dr. Arman’s research paper due in a few weeks. 
By the time you were in bed and began to mindlessly scroll on your phone, it was nearing midnight. As you scrolled through pinterest finding sad quote after sad quote to make your sadness feel a little less isolating, an email notification lit up your screen. You clicked on it, finding a message from Dr. Peña.
Please set up an appointment with me to discuss your grade. 
Dr. Javier Peña
555-268-8521
You narrowed your brows at the message—what was he talking about? You quickly opened the online portal to check your grade, finding it in near-perfect standing. Flipping back to the email, you read it over again before locking eyes on his phone number, bolded in bright red. Chuckling at his use of coded messaging, you copied the number and added it to your contacts as Javier just in case someone decided to snoop around. 
Biting your lip, you let your fingers hover over your keyboard, unsure of what to say, or if he even wanted you to message him. But he had to, right? No one highlighted shit in red if they didn’t mean to draw attention. 
You settled on something simple, something that couldn’t possibly be misconstrued if an outside party were to see it. 
You: Hey, it’s…
You: You emailed about setting up an appointment?
You waited what felt like a lifetime, choosing to spend those torturous minutes anxiously scrolling through your feed until your phone buzzed with an alert. 
Javier: So formal. 
You rolled your eyes. 
Javier: Why didn’t you show up today?
You: Too tired.
Javier: You still tired? 
You bit your lip as his words sent a thrilling ache between your thighs. 
You: Depends.  
Javier responded only with an address, one that looked to be attached to an apartment complex in the nice part of town. With your heart racing with excitement and head screaming with caution, you decided that you’d earned a bit of recklessness. You’d done everything you needed to do today, so why not do something you wanted to do?
You thanked the skies for convincing you to pamper yourself earlier with an everything shower as you slipped into a much less comfy pair of underwear, choosing to keep your hoodie and leggings on rather than dressing to impress. After all, there was a good chance your hopes would come crashing down if he truly only meant to talk. 
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The drive to his place was spent singing along to your favorite album, hoping to drown out the alarm sounds in your head that seemed to scream, idiot!
You pulled into the gated complex, punching in the code he’d sent to you before making your way through the gates. You parked your beat up car in a visitor spot, headlights illuminating a man smoking a cigarette in that black leather jacket you could still feel wrapped around your shoulders. Javier. 
He watched you as you climbed out of the car, hands trembling with nerves. 
“Hey,” you breathed, giving him a nervous smile. Javier’s smile was a lot more confident, causing a dimple to form in his left cheek. 
“Hey,” he replied, ashing out the cigarette on the trash can beside him before approaching you. “You look cozy. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Should I take that as an insult?” you joked. 
“No,” he assured, his smile softening to something so affectionate it made your heart race. “I like you like this.”
You flushed, dropping your eyes to the pavement beneath your feet. Javier surprised you by lifting his hand to your chin, gently guiding your eyes back to his. “This isn’t a good idea,” he husked, eyes bouncing back and forth between yours. “But fuck me, I can’t stop thinking about you.” 
Your lips parted as he stepped closer, his hand shifting to cradle your cheek, his thumb stroking across your skin. 
“But first, I wanted to introduce you to someone,” he said, letting his hand fall to his side. Tipping his head in the direction of the lobby, he urged you to follow him. 
Who the fuck did he possibly want to introduce you to? His secret family?
Javier opened the door with a smug look, furthering your confusion until the old woman—who looked around the age of seventy—behind the front desk popped up with a smile. 
“I didn’t see you sneak out, Javi,” she smiled, batting her eyes at him. “You got a secret exit I don’t know about, honey?”
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, Jeannie, now would it be?” he crooned, turning to you. “This was the friend of mine I wanted to introduce you to. She’s run the complex for how long now, Jeannie?”
“Thirty years,” she replied, both pride and exhaustion in her tone. “Thirty years and no goddamn retirement in sight.”
You gaped at Javier, his brow raising and smirk spreading into a full on dimpled-grin. Quickly turning to Jeannie, you chuckled and shook your head at yourself. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Jeannie,” you smiled, giving her your name. 
“You too, sweetie,” she said. “Y’all have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s not saying much, Jeannie,” Javier teased, resting his hand on your back as he guided you to the elevator. 
You kept quiet until you were inside the privacy of those four walls. “So you finally figured it out.”
“Well, I figured it out when you slammed my car door on me,” he chuckled, standing close enough for you to smell his cologne. You stepped closer to that scent of warmth and comfort, brushing your arm against his. “Thought I’d clear the air this way since you stood me up earlier.”
“I didn’t stand you up,” you laughed. “I just…I don’t know. Needed some time away from everything.”
He hummed his response, waiting for the bell to chime, signaling your arrival to the third floor, before leading you out and down the hall to his apartment. As he put his key in the lock, he turned to you with a half-smile. “You sure you want this?”
“Depends on what this is,” you replied. Javier smiled, shaking his head before opening the door to his place. He let you walk in ahead of him, the door shutting and locking behind him. 
“This is…I don’t know,” he sighed, though it sounded less like frustration but more along the lines of hesitant acceptance. “Me throwing caution to the wind, I guess.”
“Just you?” you asked, turning away from the black and brown abstract painting on the wall of his living room to look at him over your shoulder. He looked at you with such unabashed desire as he carefully stepped into your space until his chest was nearly pressed against your back. 
“Us, then,” he whispered, slowly dragging his fingertips up the length of your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. Your breath hitched as he leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. “Do you know how much space in my mind you’ve taken up? Without doing anything more than existing.” 
You turned to face him, your hands settling on his chest before sliding up to the nape of his neck. Javier’s brow furrowed as he watched you study his features, committing each one to memory in case tonight was all you’d ever have with him. “Only seems fair that I’m on your mind as much as you’re on mine.”
Javier groaned softly, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards, sandwiching you between his body and the back of his sectional. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, licking his lips as his eyes fell to yours. “These fucking lips that’ve been calling my name since the first time I saw you.”
You let out a soft breath, nodding your head quickly, as if he’d change his mind if you didn’t reply quick enough. Javier smiled, something fleeting and rooted in affection before crashing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of cinnamon blended with a hint of the cigarette he’d been smoking when you pulled into the parking lot. 
What started out as cautious quickly turned into something needy, his hands gripping your hips to pull you closer to his frame. You gasped into his mouth as he pressed his generous arousal against you, your center aching to feel him without the layers between you. 
“Javi,” you panted out the nickname, relishing in the groan it elicited. Javier was quick to pull away, his dark eyes lust blown and wild as he lifted a hand to your face. 
“What do you want, cariño?” he rasped, smoothing his thumb over your bottom lip as though to worship it. “Hm?”
It took you a few seconds to register what he’d said, your mind preoccupied with fantasy after fantasy that finally felt possible. 
“You,” you replied, soft and breathy. “Your lips, your tongue, your fingers, your…”
“My what?” he coaxed, a smirk tugging at his lips. 
Lowering your hand down his chest and stomach, you let your palm rest against his arousal, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him curse. “This. This is what I want.” 
“Fuck me,” he swore, taking a step away from you before entering a pace. He raked his hand across his face as he seemed to mull things over, meanwhile you were left standing there, panting like an idiot while replaying the interaction in your head. 
Was it your touch that spooked him? Oh god, did he not want to be touched? Perhaps you were no better than Derrick, so blinded by desire and longing that you acted before asking. 
“Javi, I—“
“If we do this,” he started, stilling his pacing to give you a stern look. “It’s a one time thing. You and I will go about our lives as normal. You can continue to TA for me if you want, or I can try to transfer you to another professor.”
“I don’t want that,” you blurted, too lost in lust to think clearly. “One time. Get it out of our systems.”
Javier chuckled, as if he had foresight into how this all played out. He could’ve seen a happy ending, the two of you reminiscing on this very moment, laughing at the idiots you once were to ever think for a minute it would only be a one time thing. Or, more realistically, he imagined the two of you awkwardly dealing with the existence of the other with forced greetings and a hidden longing that felt more like a haunting. 
Whatever scene he saw, it didn’t prevent him from sauntering back to you, from kissing you like a sailor greeting his wife after being away at sea for years, from guiding you into his bedroom, and you didn’t dare break the magic of the moment by asking.
Javier backed you against the wall, his thigh slotting between yours. His lips traveled the line of your neck, teeth grazing across your racing pulse only to soothe over the tender flesh with his tongue. 
“If you knew the things I’ve imagined…” His words trailed off into a dark chuckle as his hands slid up your side to cup your breast through your shirt. He groaned at the lack of a bra, his hips pressing into yours as he swiped his thumb across your peaked nipple. “You proud that you’ve broken a good, honorable man? That the sight of you in those fucking skirts made me insane enough to consider fucking you right on my desk?”
“Sort of,” you admitted, earning a genuine laugh. You smiled at him as he pulled back, lifting his hand to hold your face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
The way he looked at you almost made your heart stop. You’d never been looked at like that before, with respect, affection, and genuine interest. It had only been lust before this, or worse, pity. The girl who stayed loyal, who allowed a man to walk all over her for years on end. 
“Just admiring,” he shrugged, giving you a casual purse of his lips. “Clever, brave, resilient, and so fucking beautiful it hurts.”
You couldn’t take hearing anything that sincere from him, not when it was all you ever wanted to hear, not when you knew it would all be over tomorrow. You tugged him back in for a kiss, hastily shedding his jacket in the process. Javier moaned into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other hoisting your thigh over his hip. 
You moved on to the buttons of his shirt as he mouthed his way down your neck to your chest, his greedy hands palming every soft bit of flesh he could find. 
“Take this off,” you demanded, your fingers too shaky to unfasten the buttons. Javier pulled away from you to do just that, his chin nudging at you as if to say, you too. You peeled off your hoodie, earning a groan from Javier as he unbuckled his belt, his eyes eating up the sight of your bare breasts. “Fuck me, you’d turn Christ himself into a sinner.”
You ignored the butterflies his praises stirred in your belly as you peeled off your leggings and underwear in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare—and for once in your life, confident—in front of him. Javier abandoned undoing the button of his jeans in favor for coming back to you, both hands cradling your face as he backed you against the wall again. 
“One night,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. “We’ll fucking see.”
You slid your hand down his stomach to the button of his jeans, undoing it with only a little bit of trouble. Javier’s lips never left yours as you tugged the zipper down before slipping your hand inside. You both moaned at the feeling of your hand meeting his bare flesh, swallowing down the sounds of mutual pleasure. 
God, he was big. Bigger than anyone you’d ever been with before. 
“You’re going to ruin me for all men,” you purred into the air as he focused his lips, teeth, and tongue on your pulse again, your hand slowly pumping his shaft as best as you could given the way his body was pressing you into the wall. 
“I’ve always been an overachiever,” he replied, his smirk growing against your skin as he placed one last soft kiss against your pulse before kneeling down in front of you. You kept your eyes locked on his as he guided your calf to rest over his shoulder, his lips pressing their way up the inside of your leg. 
This was better than your favorite fantasy. It hadn’t managed to get the brown of his eyes, the rough warmth of his hands, the sinful scrape of his mustache across your soft skin right. In fact, now that you were witness to the real thing, the fantasy seemed like nothing more than a cheap knock-off.
“Javi,” you cautioned, remembering one critical detail about the fantasy. The fact that you’d never actually had this done to you before. All the sex and sin you’d gotten up to in your life, but never this. Selfish fucking men. 
“What,” he hummed lazily against your skin, now kissing your inner thigh. 
“You don’t have to,” you replied, nothing more than a whisper. Javier shook his head at you, gently nipping at your sensitive flesh. 
“Don’t have to, but fuck me, I want to,” he rasped, lathing his tongue over where he’d just given you a lovebite. You gently raked your hand through his hair, bringing his eyes away from your aching center and back to yours. 
“I’ve had this exact fantasy since the first day of class,” you admitted, biting your lip. “It’s been my favorite thing to think about when I touch myself.”
Javier groaned, desperate and wrecked. 
“Can you make it as good as my fantasy?” you asked, your voice a seductive purr. 
There was something about this—Javier on his knees, practically begging to taste you—that felt so much more empowering than you’d ever felt before with a sexual partner. How you’d ever go back to more age appropriate men, you weren’t sure. 
“You’re…” He cut himself off, shaking his head before leaning closer to where you practically dripped with need. “I’ll give you something real to fantasize about when you touch yourself, cariño.”
You smiled at the promise, only for it to fall as your jaw went slack at the feeling of Javier’s tongue licking a broad stripe up your seam. You furrowed your brows as you looked down to watch him, his eyes closed as he tugged you closer to his mouth. His tongue swirled around your bud, over and over, making you pulse with each passing swirl. You gripped onto his hair to keep him there, guiding him as his tongue dipped lower to your entrance to drink up your arousal with a sinful groan. 
“So fucking sweet,” he praised, pulling back to marvel at your swollen pussy with a look of awe. “I need you on the bed.” 
You nodded, springing into action and practically leaping into his king-sized mattress. You crawled back on your elbows until you reached the pillows, watching as Javier finally kicked off his jeans, finally taking in the full sight of his cock. You actually began to salivate at the sight of him, long and thick and angry with need. 
He stood at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on you as he stroked himself with his fist. You slipped your hand down to your clit, rubbing it in time with his lazy strokes, and quickly realized you could get off from this alone. 
“That’s it,” he husked. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.”
You moaned, slipping your fingers lower to curl inside yourself. There was something so holy about this sinful act. The way he watched you, the worship and reverence in his stare as you got off to the sight of him getting off to the sight of you. All of it was holy, and all of it was forbidden. 
“Good fucking girl,” he praised, the words causing you to pulse around your fingers. 
Javier seemed to have gotten his fill of watching as he climbed onto the bed, making himself at home between your thighs. You slipped your fingers out and moved to law them to the side, but he stopped you, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean while you watched him with a slack jaw. 
“Fuck,” you moaned, brows pinching together. Javier kissed the inside of your palm before setting it down against his cool sheets. 
“Is this how you imagined it?” he asked, kissing your inner thigh. 
“Mmhm,” you hummed, combing back the waves that had fallen across his forehead. Javier keened under your touch as he inched his way back to your center. Locking his eyes with yours, you watched him turn your fantasies into reality—those brown eyes finally meeting yours just as you’d imagined. 
“You taste so good,” he praised, bringing two fingers up to stroke up and down your seam before dipping into your entrance. He met your eyes in a silent confirmation of consent. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip as you tried to steady your breathing. 
Javier let out a soft sigh as he slipped his fingers inside of you, curling them up to press against the spot no man had ever been able to locate before. You moaned, your head falling back against his pillows as he paired his tongue with the perfectly timed thrust of his fingers. 
“Fuck,” you whined, holding him close as he started to suck on your swollen bud, his fingers curling in and out with almost embarrassing ease as you neared your end—the first one you’d ever shared with a sexual partner. “Javi, fuck. You’re gonna make me come.”
He moaned, the sound vibrating against you as he doubled down in his efforts. Your thighs shook, your face crumpled in ecstasy as the thread of tension inside you finally snapped. Javier kept your thighs spread as they threatened to close around his head, his tongue turning gentle as he coaxed you back to earth. 
“That’s the first time someone’s ever made me come,” you panted, guiding him up for a dizzying kiss that tasted of your arousal. Javier’s hands gripped at your hip, guiding your leg to wrap around his waist. 
“Fucking idiots,” he sighed, pressing a kiss over your racing heartbeat. “Their loss.”
You nodded in agreement, your hand cradling the sharp line of his jaw as he focused his mouth on your breast. “I’d…be down for another.”
He laughed, resting his head on your chest. 
“As much as I want to, I think maybe it would be best if we just…didn’t,” he said, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You tried not to pout, to demand that he take as much as he just gave, but all you could do was give him a soft nod. “I want to, believe me. But it would just—“
“Make things more complicated,” you guessed, unable to look him in the eye. “I know.”
He tutted at you, turning your chin so that you were forced to face him. “I loved tonight, loved doing this with you. Under any other circumstance, I’d be happy to keep you in this bed for days, but—“
“It’s okay,” you managed, giving him a sad smile. “I’m glad we had this, at least.”
He nodded, resting his head against your chest again.
“I should go,” you said, the lump in your throat roughening the sound of your voice. 
“You don’t have to,” he replied, placing a tender kiss to your chest. 
“I know, but…it’s torture staying,” you confessed, trying your best not to cry. “Like flaunting food in front of someone starving.”
Javier sat back on his knees, smoothing his palms up and down your still-spread thighs. “I’m not…trying to torture you.”
“I know,” you whispered. “Still, it’s…”
“Yeah,” he agreed on the unspoken. “It is.”
You let out a huff of a chuckle, hoping it would mask the ache in your chest threatening to consume you. “Guess I’ll see you in class, then?”
“Front and center, I hope,” he smiled, backing off the bed to give you space to get up and get dressed. “And no skirts, for Christ’s sake.”
“Mm, suddenly skirts are all I own,” you joked, shooting him a more genuine smile from over your shoulder as you slipped into your leggings. 
“Cruel woman,” he chided playfully, watching you from his seat at the foot of the bed. “Cruel, beautiful woman.”
After Javier led you out of the building through the back exit to avoid Jeannie, you bid him an awkward farewell, holding in your tears until you were in your car. You spent the commute from his place to yours sobbing over a man you could never have, one that was everything you ever wanted. You made a pit stop at a gas station to buy some comfort snacks and an ice-ee in hopes of soothing the ache in your chest, but the truth was there was no escaping the impact of Javier Peña on your soft, longing heart. 
You only hoped the recovery would be quick, the wound of losing him before you ever had him fading into an almost unnoticeable scar on your heart. 
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297 notes · View notes
cuubism · 7 months
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physical therapy part 4
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It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.
The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.
But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."
"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.
"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.
"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."
Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.
"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."
That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"
Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"
Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.
"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.
"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.
"Now?"
"You got somewhere else to be?"
Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.
Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."
"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."
Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.
So he takes the chopsticks.
Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.
He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.
"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.
It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.
"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"
Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.
"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.
Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.
Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.
"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.
Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."
And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.
Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.
He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.
"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."
Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.
Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."
He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."
Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.
"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.
"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."
Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.
But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.
But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.
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thousand-winters · 4 months
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You know what I find really, really funny?
You know how Reigen drops his "oh, I don't think anybody would like me if they saw the real me" on Serizawa (that definitely was not on his job's description)? Obviously there's a whole thing there with how he sees himself but how in the end he stops lying to Mob and confesses the truth to him.
And then... he kinda just stops there.
In the spin-off he doesn't tell the truth to Tome until he thinks he has no other choice because she's putting herself in danger by working under the wrong assumption that he's a psychic, and while doing so, he asks her not to tell Serizawa. He was honest with Mob, but that was with him and only him. His default mode is still lying and hiding.
And the thing is obviously these people he has surrounded himself with, purposefully or accidentally, don't like him because they think he's an esper —at this point I don't think he's fooling even half of them, frankly—, or even because of his whole... energetic, over the top persona. They like him because of the kind of person he is, whether he's keeping his whole salesman attitude or whether he's a bit quieter and less self-assured.
Now, it's kinda easy to see why he would think he has to keep that up, initially he presented himself to Mob as this wise mentor figure, half of the other people he knows are kids for which he feels the responsibility to be a reliable adult figure, and then there are cases like Serizawa and the ex-Scars who do hold him in high regard and see him with a certain degree of admiration, all of that sort of tied with his fake psychic status.
And so it's very amusing to me that the one person who could show him VERY clearly that people care about him regardless of all of that is... Ritsu.
Because here's the thing, he was jealous of Reigen to some degree since he was someone Mob could confide in, unlike Ritsu due to the distance that had formed between them after the incident. And I think part of his irritation with Reigen was definitely that he was so evidently (to him anyway) a fraud, so that put Ritsu pre-awakening of his powers and Reigen at the same level and yet... Mob always went to Reigen for advice and guidance. It's very understandable for him to have been annoyed considering that.
Through the story it's more than evident that Ritsu is very, very aware that Reigen is a fraud, and though he's open with his distaste, at some point it feels a bit more like a normal kind of distaste. Reigen might have his morals and principles as a fraud, but he's one nonetheless, plus his personality doesn't mesh particularly well with Ritsu, and quite honestly? If I were 13yo and had to interact with someone like Reigen, I think I would be feeling a good amount of second hand embarrassment that ends up in annoyance.
But Ritsu doesn't really hate Reigen. He's comically annoyed by him, sure, but it's more than obvious he doesn't hate him.
When push comes to shove, he never wishes any actual ill will toward Reigen, he helps pull him away from Ishiguro in 7th Division Arc, for example, and when he goes to face Toichiro to help Mob, Ritsu is the one showing visible concern for what's going on when they see the explosion and the fire from down below, with his little "Reigen-san..." (as a sidenote, I love how the English dub does this with the "please, be okay").
My favorite example of this by far is Separation Arc, because Ritsu has genuine reasons to be pissed at Reigen this time around, if he sort of gathered that he mistreated Mob, and yet what he does is... he watches the press conference. It isn't even because of Mob, he's not sitting down with him or even watching with his parents or anything, it's just him, he had to have made the active choice to watch. And he could be vindictive and it would be such a reasonable posture to take because, again, Reigen was a goddamn jerk to his brother and the situation snowballed from there, but he isn't, he's visibly concerned for him.
That is NOT a boy who doesn't care, much less one who hates Reigen.
And it's so funny to me that the one person who could show Reigen all of those fears he has about that side of him he hates being a deal breaker for the people around him is also the one who makes faces at the idea of going to stay over at his apartment.
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rubyuji · 5 months
Text
The Chase (Jeon Wonwoo) ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
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“I won’t get tired of the chase when it comes to you because I know that once I win your heart, I will give you more than the world has to offer” ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
Genre: Angst (Not much), Fluff, Romance
AU: Chaebol!au
Pairing(s): CEO!Wonwoo x Afab Fashion Designer!Reader
Warnings: None except the shitty ex-boyfriend
Synopsis: After going through the most traumatizing relationship ever with your ex, you vowed never to open your heart to just anyone and simply accepted the fact that maybe you truly were just unlucky in love. That was until Jeon Wonwoo made it his life’s mission to prove to you that you weren’t unlucky, you just ended up with the wrong people.
Note: I don’t know why this took me so long finish, I started writing it during new year’s and still ended up finishing it in April ;; This is based off a true story (The shitty ex) and I wrote it to make myself feel better. Remember, never settle for less because you’re always deserving of more. Happy reading! And as always, don’t forget to like + reblog.
WC: 10.4k (and it took me 4 months)
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Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, you had finally had enough. It had been a week since your ‘boyfriend’ decided just to get up and ghost you, and now here he was when you finally thought he’d completely leave your life? Not only that but breaking up with you over text for that matter.
He couldn’t even call you to tell you shit, and he came back just to end things between you both.
“He’s so full of shit like I’m gonna take his fucking excuse of being busy like I always do. I’m tired of waiting for this guy, all talk that’s what he is. He wanted me first and now he’s the one initiating the breakup? The audacity he has to do all this when I put in all the work to make this relationship work.” You run a hand through your hair in exasperation as your friend Jennie eyes you worriedly.
“I told you, you deserve better Y/n. Never trust a guy who has to make up for his face with his ‘personality’, What’s the point? You gave him a chance because you pitied him. This guy should be embarrassed for even breaking up with someone in your league, you can do way better,” Rosé says.
Your ex wasn’t the most favorable person among your girlfriends, or your circle of friends in general, but love truly is blind.
You land on the couch beside Jennie, the movie on the big screen in your theater long forgotten as it was paused momentarily because your ex had decided to return at the worst possible time.
“He’s an ass, end of story. He never deserved you to begin with and I could see it coming ever since we met him, what guy uses him being busy as an excuse? If you truly loved your girlfriend, you’d spend every waking minute with her and spoil her with attention. You don’t even ask for much!” Jisoo shouts.
Lisa slaps your friend’s leg in an attempt to calm her down as you all laugh.
The girls knew that you were well aware of your worth, but this guy was persistent so you gave him a chance, but he ended up hurting you either way.
It was such nonsense for him to break up with you when you were nothing but good to him, hell, you were the whole package and he still couldn’t see where he wasted such an opportunity.
“Y/n, he never deserved you at all. You’re the full package when it comes to a partner. Like, you don’t even ask for that much assurance and give him all his freedom, and not only that, you’re so patient and understanding. You have your way with words, as well as a personality as pretty as your face for fucks sake. He wasted such a creative and unique person, he’ll get his karma soon enough,” Jennie says softly from beside you.
You were fully aware of the treatment you give your friends and can vouch for how much of a good person you are, but this guy broke up with you because one of your friends had decided to call him out on his shit treatment towards you? If he had worries about that he could’ve talked to you about it.
“Your ex is full of shit just saying, so how about we forget about it and get ready to go to Mingyu’s housewarming party tonight? I’m sure there will be guys flocking toward you from every direction, so stop crying over a guy who never deserved you.” Lisa dragged you and the girls into your walk-in to get ready.
Who did your ex think he was, anyway? He was probably some shitty lesson for you to vow to be more picky now with whom you let into your heart.
Since you were the one who was heartbroken in the midst of all this, your friends had taken extra time to help you look your best.
Jennie had grabbed a long black strapless dress that had a slit that ran until your mid-thigh, and Rosé helped with your makeup, opting for a subtle smokey eye and a deep red lip.
You decided to let the girls get ready and offered to do your hair with Jisoo in the bathroom, the two of you breaking into a friendly chat.
“I will never understand what you saw in that guy Y/n, you have so many guys chasing after you and yet you decided to give Junseo a chance. He wasn’t exactly the best-looking and even had a shitty personality. He only seemed good at first when he was pursuing you but he got shittier, anyone could see that only you were putting the effort in for the relationship to work,” Jisoo sighed.
You finished curling your hair and laughed at your friend’s words. Even you, yourself, couldn’t understand why you gave him that chance when he treated you like absolute garbage, he kept leaving you and coming back at his convenience, using the excuse of being busy as always.
He started becoming inconsistent, he couldn’t even give you the bare minimum and broke up with you just because he couldn’t handle communicating with you.
Because he couldn’t admit his mistakes? It wasn’t worth it in your opinion, and you had already detached like it was nothing. The relationship itself was comical.
“Well, he doesn’t count as a boyfriend to be completely honest. I don’t see him as one, like even as a person he isn’t all that, he is a good friend to everyone else but this guy isn’t all that in reality no matter how hard you look. He talks about me as if I’m just a random girl to his friends, Mingyu can vouch for me on that because he overheard him at the bar. Honestly never again,” you grimace at the memory.
Mingyu had called you up at two in the morning, and you wondered why on earth he’d be calling you at that hour.
Sure, your best friend was a bit of a party animal, so you weren’t exactly a stranger to a few drunk speed dials from him, but Mingyu sounded quite frustrated over the phone.
“Your asshole of a boyfriend, if you can even call him that, is at the bar we’re at right now. This dude talked about you as if you were some random chick. Honestly, if Hao hadn’t held me back, I would’ve punched the shithead square in the fucking face. Y/n, you should break up with him, you don’t deserve this disrespect at all.” You could hear Dokyeom telling Mingyu to let it go because they’d just go and find another bar.
Frankly, your boyfriend was pissing them off at that exact moment because they had all overheard his conversation from the table beside theirs.
“Gyu, I can’t believe he left after an argument we had, and this is what I come back to? You know what, never mind, I’ll deal with it myself. Don’t worry ok? You guys enjoy your night, I’ll talk to him as soon as possible” You reply quietly.
Mingyu starts to worry and asks if you need him to come over, but you assure him that you’ll be fine and that you’ll call Jeonghan to come over instead.
“I’m sure Jeonghan hyung will understand, so you rest up there. I’m sorry he’s a shitty person Y/n, you need someone who will take care of you just as well as we do, someone who’s just as good as you even. I’ll come over tomorrow to check up on you, ok? I’ll try not to drink as much knowing you’ll be worried about me driving with a hangover,” Mingyu tells you.
You tell him to take care and enjoy his night once again, and not to worry about you before you hang up. You debated texting Jeonghan, who was probably on his way to your penthouse already, so you decided to leave it to Mingyu.
You needed more time to do something about the current situation. It was all so confusing and you didn’t know how to feel, but thankfully you had friends who were practically angels on this godforsaken planet.
What you couldn’t fathom was that you gave this guy all the freedom he needed, hell, you stretched your patience and your ability to understand to its limit because of him, and yet he throws your name around as if you’re just some random girl he decided to hook up with? You don’t deserve that kind of disrespect, especially when you were a woman of class, and the person supporting him and his family without asking for anything in return.
When Jeonghan arrived at your place, you were ready to bawl and cry over how rocky your relationship had been since the beginning. The man had entered your home with a tub of ice cream and a bottle of your favorite aged wine that he always kept for you in case of emergencies.
Mingyu had described your dilemma enough for you, saving Jeonghan the explanation and the confusion as to why you needed him in the dead of night, but you knew well enough that if they also needed you, you’d be there in a heartbeat.
Jeonghan had sat you down in your living room, the lights in the penthouse out completely as you both bask in the darkness and the dim city lights that seep through the window. He takes a sip from his glass and eyes you with worry, before pulling you closer to his side.
“Your boyfriend is an asshole and you deserve better, and I know you’re tired of people telling you that, but this guy has completely proved time and time again that he is undeserving of your love. I know it will be easier said than done but you need to break up with this guy, he’s been hurting you Y/n and he’s acting like it’s completely ok just because you make excuses for him? God, I hate seeing you in this position as one of your best friends” Jeonghan mutters from beside you.
You take a sip of your wine and nod. This guy wasn’t the most well-liked individual in your circle, and you were starting to see the reality of things.
He’s been neglecting your needs and you as a whole, only using his having a girlfriend as something to brag about. Not only that, but he also had the privilege to date you, and he’s suddenly acting as if you’re some lowly girl chasing after his tail.
A highly respected chaebol and someone whose family and community as a whole consist of only the most elite, Yoon Jeonghan, son of Yoon Holdings. and Kim Mingyu, son of Kim Legal Group are some important names to note.
Your inner circle was full of powerful people, and they would hire a hitman on your behalf if you weren’t so patient, so this guy should be afraid to hurt you.
“Look, he doesn’t know the full extent of how much he hurt you and he’s acting like everything is ok just because you’re understanding and kind. He lost a very special and unique individual, hell, he lost the heir to one of the biggest fashion companies in the world. You shouldn’t have settled for someone who’s not even close to your league, like, you have models pining after you for fucks sake Y/n. I have a whole line of friends ready to treat you right,” your friend laughs.
“He’s not the most ideal guy, and I get it now. I guess I only liked how he treated me and made me feel special in a way, especially when he’s known me for so long, but you’re right Han. I need to gather the courage to break up with him because I can’t wallow in self-pity any longer, I own one of the biggest fashion companies in the world and I let this guy deter me from my goals. I need to start focusing on myself now,” you say with newfound confidence before laying your head on Jeonghan’s shoulder.
You were worth so much more, and you deserved to be valued as much as your friends valued you.
A week of healing and detachment led you to your current position now, a freshly single woman who was ready to start focusing on herself and herself only.
If a man wanted a place in your life, he was going to have to earn it and he should prove himself worthy of your attention. You are no longer going to settle when your ex practically gave you less than the bare minimum.
“You know what, you have the right to find someone else who’s in your league. I know you’re not in the mind to be in a relationship right now, but I hope at least one of the guys you meet tonight will try to pursue you with genuine intentions. You deserve someone willing to show you how much you mean to them, someone who’s not afraid to show and express their love for you.” Jisoo fixes your hair and you nod in agreement.
You were in no rush to find something new after being in such a draining position, but you also wouldn’t mind entertaining more notable suitors that had actual potential in your future because your boyfriend had always been in a questionable position, to begin with.
You didn’t mean to judge him, but you were a notable figure and he was quite unsure of his career path, which isn’t a bad thing, but your ex was careless and didn’t seem to care which way he was heading.
On your end, you had started to learn the ropes of fashion at a young age, and now you were ready to take over your family legacy. You should at least give him something as a reminder of the kind of woman he lost.
“Are you guys ready? Because it’s our turn to do our hair,” Jennie peeks into the bathroom. You and Jisoo chuckle in unison and nod as you head to your shoes and bags closet.
Jisoo picks a small all-black YSL clutch and a pair of classic black Louboutin heels before handing the items in your direction. You take the shoes and give your friend a knowing look as she winks at you.
“I think a pair of Vivienne Westwood earrings would look gorgeous with the outfit, pair that with the matching necklace and you’re all set. God Y/n, you’re such a stunner and your ex wanted to break up? That’s his biggest loss ever,” your friend helps you put the necklace on as you finish up your earrings.
You were much more excited about Mingyu’s housewarming party, especially because it was at the house that you had helped him pick while he was house hunting.
Being a fashion designer and someone who works in such a creative industry, your friends always ask for your input knowing you have an eye for things that they would like.
It was a no-brainer decision for one of your best friends to take you house hunting with him because whatever you liked, Mingyu also had a knack for. Your ex didn’t count though, but when it came to everything else, your best friend was your other half.
“I’m just excited to see Mingyu and everyone else, it’s been way too long since we all had a proper hangout. Everyone’s been so busy ever since we started uni, and some of the others graduating ahead even, so thank God for him moving homes, because we probably wouldn’t have any other chance to reunite” you laugh softly.
The girls had already finished dolling themselves up and you all headed to the parking garage. You had a hard time picking between which cars to choose from, but you decided on your black Ferrari convertible as a reward for yourself.
Slipping into the driver’s seat, you motioned for them to get in, Jennie immediately calling shotgun and causing the other three to groan in unison.
Driving to Mingyu’s place was a breeze because he lived right in Hannam-Dong, your favorite area, and one of the reasons why you convinced your best friend to get his current home.
There was no way Mingyu was gonna say no to you anyway, you both always just looked out for each other like that because he was like a brother to you and you were like a sister to him.
You even contributed to at least half of Mingyu’s choices when he was choosing and decorating his current living space. Yes, your friend had taken you to every furniture shopping trip and had even called you over during renovations he was making.
Pulling into the gate, security stops you and asks who you’re there for and what house number. “House nine, Kim Mingyu,” you smile softly. The guard lets you in and tells you and the girls to have a good night as you drive toward Mingyu’s place.
“You’re already so familiar with the area, Mingyu did bring you around the whole time so it makes sense. God, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you two were dating,” Lisa joked.
You roll your eyes and let out a snort. Never in a million years would you ever think of dating Mingyu, he was your best friend and that’s all you two ever will be.
Besides, you found his other friends more appealing, but you were also too shy to approach them knowing Mingyu would never let you live it down. It was just the dynamic you both settled on because you both had gone through more than enough together.
“I would never date Mingyu, we’re too close to date and we grew up together. If you were to ask me, I’d have my bets on any of his other friends,” you parked in Mingyu’s designated parking spot that he had put especially for you (he had insisted since you would be coming over quite often anyway).
“Should’ve gone for them instead of your ex then,” Lisa laughed and you all got out of the car, ready to head inside.
Jisoo’s mouth had dropped as she stared in awe at Mingyu’s estate. “Mingyu chose the right person for advice, Y/n this place is beautiful. You do have an eye for amazing things,” your friend says. You shook your head and thanked her with a bashful smile.
The estate was beautiful, it was modern with wide windows and a black and white exterior. The gate was wide open and you could see people inside the house mingling as you all made your way in.
You then see the homeowner himself at the door, seemingly waiting for your arrival. Mingyu had a goofy smile on his face as Jungkook waved at you from beside him, he was practically Mingyu’s twin because he was around Mingyu just as much as you were.
“You’re finally here, he wouldn’t stop whining about you and honestly thank God. Mingyu finally shut up and insisted we come down to greet you once he saw your car pull up into the driveway,” Jungkook hugs you as he says that and you turn to Mingyu himself who looks just as happy to see you.
“He’s joking, now you guys come in. You’re looking quite better Y/n, did something happen?” Mingyu quips. You shrug your shoulders and casually mention that your ex had broken up with you through text after ghosting you for a week.
Jungkook turns to you as if you had dropped a bomb on them and Mingyu’s jaw falls slack at your revelation. You laughed awkwardly and tried to slip away after seeing Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, but you were immediately stopped by the two of them.
“OK first, I’m proud of you that you finally broke up with his ass, he’s honestly one of the worst creatures to ever walk this earth, but second, how are you coping? You came all the way here, I’m worried about you. Aren’t you supposed to be crying and sobbing?” Mingyu mutters.
He was genuinely so concerned at how you were able to get to his party as if nothing was completely wrong.
“Not worth crying and moping over, and besides, I’m completely ok, I promise. Still open to love and finding someone eventually though,” You held Mingyu’s hand and squeezed it as a sign of assurance, but your tall friend still looked concerned.
“Gyu, don’t worry. I had the girls with me and I have you guys, you still have guests to entertain, now go. I’ll let you know if I need anything, I promise” You ushered him to the entrance of his house as he threw you one last worried glance, before tending to his other guests that had arrived.
As you and the girls head towards the living room, where most of the guests mingled, you are completely unaware of the man who had been eyeing you ever since you had stepped foot into the home.
He stares at you full of wonder, in awe at how you glowed around your friends. Was it the lighting or were you just an angel in disguise?
“Hey Won, if you’re that into her, you should just go talk to her you know? Take the opportunity while it lasts, seeing as almost every guy here has their eye on her” Soonyoung, more known as Hoshi by his friends, chuckled from beside him, as he nudged his shoulder.
“Yeah no, I’ll stick to just admiring Y/n from afar. She has a boyfriend after all” Wonwoo says, but his face forms into a soft smile after seeing you interact with Dokyeom from across the room.
He wasn’t looking for anyone to be with before he met you, truthfully speaking, given how busy he is now that he runs his family’s business but you were just naturally radiant, it was hard not to notice your beauty and overwhelming presence whenever you were around. Wonwoo did want to approach you, but he didn’t know how when so many people would be around you at once.
The two of you had met on several different occasions, but you were always around Mingyu when it came to these things.
Wonwoo only really knew you as Mingyu’s childhood best friend, but seeing how you both interacted and based on how the media portrayed you, you seemed like quite the catch and Wonwoo couldn’t deny the small crush he had started to develop towards you, but you also had a boyfriend.
“You’re going to regret that you know, he just broke up with her today so you’re free to pursue her as you like. Just take your time with her, because I know she’ll open her heart eventually…” Mingyu appeared behind them and Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at him. Your boyfriend? How could he ever break up with someone like you?
“He had a shitty ass reason from what Jennie told me, basically he broke up with her because he said he was too busy or something. I think we’re all aware that this guy is just full of shit, after all, Y/n was the serious one and she put her utmost effort into the relationship, it’s unfair on her when there are way better people out there. People like you,” Mingyu continued while nudging Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Yikes? Won, you should pursue her and treat her the way she deserves. Take your time with Y/n, we all know she’ll open up either way when you show her that she’s truly deserving of only the best.” Jihoon grins widely.
Wonwoo was starting to deliberate within himself, he had a huge opportunity right in front of him to pursue you, and either way, it was a way to get to know you better and to see if you would give him the chance.
Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t the type to chase someone but for you? You had him wrapped around your pretty little fingers and he wouldn’t mind following you through the ends of the earth if he had to. If you gave him a chance, he’d prove to you that you only deserve to be treated with only the best and nothing less.
“Y/n was such a trooper for settling for the barest of the minimum, she’s the biggest green flag through and through, and this guy chose to abuse it. I think you’re the person for her Won, you’re willing to go after her, aren’t you? Now go and ask her out, Dokyeom’s telling her to walk over.” Mingyu looked like a madman because his smile was so wide, but he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to set the two of his closest friends up with each other.
You both deserved only the best, and Mingyu must admit that you were a perfect match. He’d always wanted Wonwoo for you, but your ex had to ruin it all by stealing you away.
Wonwoo turned to the side and sure enough, you were making your way toward Mingyu and the others. Wonwoo’s breath was caught in his throat as he saw you coming closer. God, you looked so beautiful, it was hard not to stare.
Once you were in front of them, you greeted them kindly, your tone soft and sweet, but still with a hint of elegance. The guys only shared knowing glances and they urged Wonwoo to talk to you teasingly.
“Y/n, is it ok if we have a moment alone? I need to ask you something and I’d feel like it would be too much pressure to put you on the spot in front of everyone,” You looked at Wonwoo and nodded, surprised at his demeanor.
You were so used to the serious side of the man that seeing him all shy and flustered only made you smile at him.
Wonwoo led you to the second floor, and you immediately knew where he was taking you. You know Mingyu’s house like the back of your hand, so it was no surprise when Wonwoo opened up the garden on the second floor.
It was perfectly private since the second floor was off-limits for other guests, and everyone was led straight to the rooftop or was on the ground floor.
“Now that we have a bit more privacy, I heard from Mingyu and his big mouth that your ex had broken up with you. How are you coping?” Wonwoo motioned for you to sit next to him on the bench.
You took a seat next to him and let out a soft chuckle, this was the first time you were ever alone with Wonwoo, outside of a formal setting and without the company of others.
“Doing fine, I mean, I detached from the whole situation emotionally so it’s nothing. Left me quite drained, but I won’t let a hiccup like this stop me from finding someone else, I’m just not in the state to be in another relationship right now…” You reply and stare at the city from below.
The view was gorgeous, but you couldn’t deny that the man next to you was just as good-looking.
“I know you’re not in the state to commit to something else as you’re healing right now, but I’d like to ask you if you’re willing to let me court you. I don’t want to pressure you, and it’s completely up to you, but I wanted to open up the possibility because I’ve been admiring you for a while Y/n. I only want to show you that you deserve only the best,” Wonwoo proposes.
Your mouth is slightly agape at his proposal, you are just in complete shock at how someone like Wonwoo had openly confessed that he’d be willing to pursue you because he admired you.
It was a bold move and it was a risk knowing you’d just been broken up with, but he was willing to take it either way.
“Courting huh? You surprise me Jeon Wonwoo. I’ll accept your proposal, but I have to let you know that it won’t be as easy because of the trauma from my last relationship,” you look down and fidget with your hands.
You were okay with being pursued and courted, but you’re still shaken up from the events of your last relationship, so you’re taking it easy.
“I won’t get tired of the chase when it comes to you because I know that once I win your heart, I will give you more than the world has to offer,” Wonwoo chuckles before wrapping his jacket around you.
He was truly a gentleman, and what did you have to lose? The man was trusted by your friends and most especially Mingyu, your friend who was like a brother to you.
“I admire your courage and patience, but going after me won’t be so easy now…” You chuckle lightly.
You thought Wonwoo would laugh along but the man truly was serious about you, which was a surprise. People these days were only up for casual dating, but you were someone who preferred something long-term and serious, especially when work and business took up most of your life.
“Believe me, I know how you feel because I’m equally as busy, but I’m willing to work around that. You’re an amazing woman, seeing how secure you are in yourself only makes you all the more attractive. I want someone who shares my work ethic and dreams. Seeing your character, and hearing all the good things about you. I can truly say you are everything I could ever ask for,” Wonwoo continued.
You never got flustered or embarrassed, but hearing someone acknowledge your hard work, especially from a person like Wonwoo, you couldn’t help but blush at his confession.
The media has always highlighted your endless milestones, but no one ever brought up the grueling hours you’ve spent working towards a goal. Wonwoo truly was one of a kind, which only made you want to give him a chance even more.
The two of you hear a glass door slide and hear a familiar voice let out a hearty laugh. “There you two are, come down because I’m going to say a few words before the house gets trashed,” Mingyu stood by the door and smiled at the two of you.
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Since that night, Jeon Wonwoo proved that he was serious about his word, because the morning after Mingyu’s party, you had received a bouquet arrangement of baby’s breaths and camellias, along with a note.
It read, ‘Just because. Have a good day, I’ll visit your place later since your secretary told me you had a full schedule today. See you later beautiful :)’.
“Is that from Wonwoo? Look at him already treating you better than your shitty ex-boyfriend,” Jennie laughs after walking into the kitchen.
You chuckle and place the flowers in a vase that you filled with water. It was unique, usually, people would send roses since it was romantic, but this was sweet of Wonwoo because he isn’t like everyone else.
“By the way, baby’s breath flowers mean ‘everlasting love’, and camellias mean ‘you’re a flame in my heart’. This man is already gaining my approval because he knows the flower language and put in the effort to arrange that, and have it delivered, between his busy schedule. I can’t wait to see what else he has in mind,” you hand Jennie a mug of coffee you were making and roll your eyes playfully.
It was cheesy, but you had to admit that it was also admirable. This was your first time receiving flowers from someone from a romantic perspective.
You had received flowers from Mingyu, Seungcheol, and even Jihoon, in the past, but they were all friendly gestures or formalities at one of Mingyu’s events. This time, it felt different as you feel a sense of giddiness bloom in your chest.
“He’s coming over tonight, I wonder what else he has planned,” you wonder aloud. Just as you said that sentence, the other girls had walked into the kitchen, and Jisoo immediately asked who you were referring to.
“Wonwoo sent her flowers and said he’d come over to see her, crazy right? This guy just started courting Y/n and is already proving himself worthy,” Jennie replies.
Rosé raises a brow and Lisa’s brows knit. This was a first from any of the guys you’ve ever been with, and Wonwoo hadn’t even taken you out on a proper date yet, but it was a lot coming from someone who was now taking over one of the biggest companies in the country. The man was bound to be busy almost every minute of his entire life right now.
It was a no-brainer that Wonwoo had a lot of responsibilities but given his dating history, or lack thereof, this was a whole new thing for him.
A man who is serious about what he wants is one of the hottest things ever to you, so he was gaining your favor faster than you thought.
“Stop being a bare minimum enjoyer, I can’t wait to see what he’s going to bring to the table for you though. I need this guy to treat you the way you deserve to be treated because you settled for shit men and that isn’t who you are, you need someone serious and emotionally intelligent,” Rosé huffs.
Your friends continue to talk amongst themselves as you get started on your breakfast, your mind still on Wonwoo.
You never paid much mind to Mingyu’s friends, but you slowly warmed up to the twelve men, getting particularly close to Jeonghan, Jihoon, and Seungcheol, specifically, but Wonwoo? You could barely remember your last exchange with the man except for the one from the night before.
They all had their charm and you wouldn’t mind hanging out with any of them at all, but Wonwoo was one of the busier members of the group so you never got the chance to see him as much due to schedules clashing.
You couldn’t lie though, you thought the man was attractive for being so hardworking but still finding the time to go to every dinner or event he was invited to, especially when it came to their friend group in particular.
You had missed a few here and there because you were either too burned out from working, or had too much on your schedule that day, but you always managed to hear that Wonwoo had made it.
“Hey Y/n, we’ll be leaving in an hour or two so you can mentally prepare yourself for your night with Wonwoo. No weird shit ok? I know he’s hot and all but have some self-control and save it for when you’re officially together,” Jennie jokes from behind you as she gives you a back hug.
You let out a giggle and nod softly, immediately catching your friend’s drift.
“Yeah don’t worry, I promise I have it all under control ok Jen? Now let me finish cooking our food so I can at least send you guys off with a thank you for being the best,” you say softly.
The girls smile at you, their expressions teasing in a way. You could only roll your eyes at them. For the first time, your friends supported a guy. It was new and completely unexpected, especially when your close-knit group of friends consisted of maneaters.
After breakfast, your friends had finally left you alone in your penthouse with nothing to do until Wonwoo came over that evening, so you decided to tend to some important emails and other matters.
Hence, you no longer had anything else to think about. You couldn’t help but think though, how could someone like Wonwoo ask you out? Let alone court you. Jeon Wonwoo was someone you least expected to have the time for something like courtship.
It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you both were some of the busiest people in the industry, especially with your family brand making a name overseas and his company taking the whole country by storm.
You both always had packed schedules, but Wonwoo was willing to fit you into his somehow, which you admired. Your friends always say that a man is never too busy for someone he truly loves.
“He’s already so sweet, I’m already getting sick just thinking about him,” you say to yourself.
You couldn’t help but feel all giddy, even after the traumatic experience with your ex, you felt happy to give someone a chance because they promised to make up for what you had gone through.
Despite your giddy feelings, the emotional trauma had started to creep up on you. Jumping into something new almost immediately wasn’t the wisest idea on your part, but Wonwoo was one of Mingyu’s closest friends as well, so Mingyu wouldn’t push the idea if it wasn’t good for you.
“I shouldn’t put too much effort into how I look tonight, after all, we are just having dinner here, but I wonder what he’s got planned,” you get up from the couch and make your way into your room. Even if you were just going to meet at your own home, you still had to look presentable at least.
Walking into your closet, you decide to pull out another one of your favorite black dresses. It wasn’t too out there, but it was pretty enough to wear for dinner at home. The dress ended at the knees and had puffy sleeves, with the waist having a corset-like design.
This dress was your pride and joy because you had designed this when you were still in your first year of high school, with only one piece existing in the entire world.
“You know what, maybe I should call Mingyu. He could calm my nerves and tell me what Wonwoo is like…” you sigh softly.
Whenever you did feel your nerves catching up to you, you always turned to call your puppy of a best friend to help you get over your thoughts, and since the guy was also one of his closest friends, Mingyu could help alleviate any worries you have.
You opted to call him because he would probably take forever to lecture you either way. You grab your phone and dial Mingyu’s number, the man probably had nothing better to do right now because his family was going to be over that night as well and he talked to you yesterday about wanting to cook for them in his new home.
“Hey, you’re calling me. Don’t tell me you’re nervous about your date with Wonwoo tonight?” You can hear the smirk in Mingyu’s tone.
If he was here, you’d already land him a smack on his shoulder and a good eye roll, but you were in your penthouse across the city.
“I’m not stupid, I just need to hear more about what he’s like. Besides, I also maybe do want to get intel on his side because you’re his other best friend you know,” you chuckle playfully. Mingyu wasn’t a snitch obviously, but he could at least tell you what he gathered from the guy.
“Yeah I know, look, Wonwoo’s just as nervous as you are. It’s his first time being with a woman who wasn’t exactly chosen by his parents if you catch my drift. Just relax, he’s harmless and is pretty good at conversations, he’s not that awkward once he opens up a bit,” you hear shuffling on Mingyu’s end.
“Are you seriously preparing meals right now?” You laugh. You hear Mingyu laugh as he switches over to Facetime before he sets his phone somewhere on the counter.
“You already know, it’s their first time here so I want to make it special and meaningful,” Mingyu smiles.
Your best friend was the biggest green flag you have ever met. Ever since you were kids, you could already tell that his parents had raised him to be the gentleman he is today, and if you weren’t best friends, you would be dating him at this point. But you were already beyond that point because he just really felt like the brother you never had.
“Anyways, as I’m preparing meals, I’m also here to yap about how Wonwoo also knows how to treat someone right. I wouldn’t want anyone else for either of you, so this is all part of my plan,” Mingyu starts gathering plates as you set your phone on the vanity.
“You think you’re some kind of mastermind aren’t you?” You giggle. You would never doubt Mingyu, and if he was desperate enough to get you and Wonwoo together, it just means he’s giving you the treatment you truly deserve.
“You only deserve the best, besides, you’re a woman of class Y/n, don’t get it twisted now. Let me remind you that your family owns one of the biggest fashion companies in all of Korea right now, and your circle only consists of some of the most powerful people in the country.” Mingyu points out.
You hum at his words, had you forgotten who you were because of a guy who was never truly worth your time?
“Thanks for the reminder as always Gyu. I think we could call up Cheol to do a background check on him, and we can get Soonyoung to hire a hitman if possible. I’ll also make sure to call you if I need to sue someone,” you close the lid of your eyeliner and hear Mingyu huff as he holds back another laugh.
The guys were overprotective of you, and you couldn’t blame them for their dislike towards your ex, it was justified now that you truly think about it.
Your ex couldn’t even walk into a gathering with your friends without Dino and Seungkwan giving him side eyes and the dirtiest looks known to man.
“Anyways, Wonwoo doesn’t exactly know how to cook, so he asked me to make your favorite. I made your pasta the way you liked it, just so you know,” Mingyu picks up his phone again and you shake your head as he shows you the various food laid out on the counter.
“I wish I was there, tell Auntie and Uncle that I said hi, and tell your sister that I miss her,” Mingyu pouts. “What about me?” You hold back a smile, ever so clingy.
“We saw each other yesterday, you’ll live. I practically see you almost every day you goof,” you reply.
“Kay whatever, anyways, I’m guessing Wonwoo is on his way so I’ll leave you to it. You look great, don’t give him a heart attack,” you laugh as Mingyu hangs up the call. Your best friend always knew what to say, and you were always grateful to him in every way possible.
You spray on a bit of your favorite perfume and head out into the living room, seeing that the sun is already setting and casting a soft glow into the room.
You smile to yourself, you loved the view from your penthouse, but your sorry excuse of an ex was also a reminder that you chose the place while thinking of him and the life you could’ve had together.
“Stop thinking about him, he’s not worth your fucking time anymore. You have to focus on yourself now, and you’re gonna make it right,” you mutter to yourself softly.
After thirty minutes of pacing around your living room, you hear the buzzer of your doorbell and flinch at the sound. ‘Wonwoo’s here,’ you think, as you make your way to the door to greet your guest, or date, for that matter.
You see Wonwoo through the camera and immediately let out a breath, accompanied by a smile, upon seeing his appearance, as you unlock the door to your home. He looked a bit tired when you went to get him at the door but in a split second, he looked like he was hit with adrenaline upon seeing you.
“Hey, gorgeous, sorry if our first date isn’t exactly the most ideal right now. I’ll take you out somewhere better next time,” Wonwoo says softly before throwing you a smile.
God, he was so damn charming and this was only the first date? And he promised to do even better for the next date?
Wonwoo was already exceeding your expectations by planning another date, making it to your house on time for dinner, and even going out of his way to ask Mingyu to cook your favorite food.
You felt like you could finally depend on someone and moments like that aren’t exactly something you had the luxury of enjoying.
“I’m fine with whatever really, but if you insist, I’ll have to take you up on it,” you say and lead Wonwoo over to the kitchen.
You notice how he takes in the interior carefully, studying every detail of your place of residence. You smile at his action, his observant behavior is endearing to you.
“Your penthouse is beautiful by the way,” You turn to Wonwoo as he places the food on the island in the kitchen. “Thank you, I kind of want to make a few renovations though.” You reply in a gentle voice.
Almost every corner had reminded you of your ex, and you hated how your living space didn’t correspond to your taste anymore.
“Seeing Mingyu’s place, I’d like to be around when you do your renovations. I figured the penthouse was lacking in your personality, but still beautiful like the owner,” Wonwoo keeps his gaze trained on you. You burn under it and start helping him plate the food.
The action of plating the food together and chatting about each other’s lives felt so domestic and natural to you. If you were honest, you wish you were dating Wonwoo and never even met your ex.
You hated comparing your ex to Wonwoo, but the treatment was vastly different, even from the first time he had asked you out. Your ex had asked you out quite casually since he was a friend of a friend, whilst Wonwoo had really taken the time to consider your feelings and had given you time to think.
After dinner, you decided to take Wonwoo on a tour around your penthouse, the two of you easily conversing and feeling more comfortable with each other.
“You still manage to game in between your busy schedule? That’s so crazy,” you smile.
Wonwoo shrugs as the two of you make your way back to the living room, he finds your demeanor cute, and his heart continues to beat even harder for you.
“OK then, what do you do in your downtime little Ms. fashion designer?” He jokes. Wonwoo loved hearing about you or anything to do with you, he adored you that much, and he treasured every moment with you.
“I like niche hobbies, you know? I’ve always loved making handmade things, so beaded jewelry, crocheting, painting, and doing art. I also dabble in writing, reading, photography, and I dance,” you list all your hobbies down, not thinking much of it since no one had ever really asked about them besides your friends.
“Your hobbies are just as gorgeous as you are,” Wonwoo looks at you with a lovesick smile. He felt himself fall for you even harder, he was in too deep and he wouldn’t mind waiting years for you if he had to.
You felt your cheeks heat up and reply with a chuckle. It was only the first date and this man had already managed to make you blush, smile, and make you feel taken care of in just a matter of a few hours. You appreciated the way he treated you so carefully, and you were willing to give him a chance to be a part of your life now.
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A few months had gone by in a blur with Wonwoo, and there was never a dull moment with him. From his daily words of affirmation, endless compliments, and a lot more dates he managed to fit into his schedule.
He never forced anything on you, and he was patient with you through and through. You couldn’t have been any more grateful for him for waiting on you for so long.
“Are you attending fashion week next week? I heard from Mingyu that you were offered a spot for your collection debut, that’s amazing Y/n,” Wonwoo smiles from the kitchen island.
You wave your hand dismissively, you felt shy whenever it came to these things, but seeing as Wonwoo was constantly up to date on your endeavors, much like you were with his, you couldn’t avoid it and decided to enjoy the thoughtfulness. He was just perfect, and with each passing day, you admittedly started falling for him just as hard.
“I am, do you want to go with me?” You replied. Wonwoo hums, eyes still on you and with a loving expression on his face.
“I’d be honored to go with you gorgeous, but I wouldn’t want to be crossing any lines with you. You do know that right?” Wonwoo replies.
He had always been so thoughtful, you wondered if the Gods above had finally decided to end your streak of failed relationships.
“Yes, Won. I hope you also know that in no way are you crossing lines by being with me, I mean, you’ve been nothing but amazing to me. Having you by my side is a breath of fresh air, I am always grateful to have you around,” You walk over and give Wonwoo a soft peck on the cheek.
“Great, I’ll ask my secretary to clear my schedule for next week then. Just so I can spend as much time with you as I can, you need all the support you can get since it is your official debut at such a huge event,” Wonwoo circles his arms around your waist and you rest your arms around his neck.
Though you were in a courting stage and weren’t exactly official, you and Wonwoo never shied away from small acts of affection, which slowly uncovered the reciprocated feelings that were starting to bloom on your end.
It was like Wonwoo fit into your life so effortlessly, he was the most supportive, loving, and soft-spoken person in the entire world. He was everything you could’ve ever wanted and he never got mad or raised his voice at you. He truly was perfect, perfect to the point that everyone had been itching for you to finally give him an answer, and you were going to eventually.
Soon enough, a week after that conversation had taken place, you were in Paris with Wonwoo, Mingyu, and a few of your other friends from your close inner circle for fashion week.
You all had arrived in France at around ten in the evening, deciding to go for a small dinner before you all became too swamped with work for the next few days.
“You two have been so cozy lately, it’s so adorable,” Mingyu comments during the dinner. Jennie hums from beside him, and Seungkwan chuckles as he notices you freeze up.
You regain your composure and throw Mingyu a stiff smile, seeing the mischievous glint in your best friend’s eyes.
“I’m just doing my best to treat her the best I can, she deserves the world, and I would give her more if I could. I don’t mind waiting an eternity if I have to, because I know it will be worth the wait to finally have her in my arms and to be able to call her mine,” Wonwoo suddenly spoke up.
You choke on your wine as the rest of your friends either have their jaws dropped or squealed with a newfound giddiness.
You look over at Wonwoo, and the man is staring at you, sincerity sparkling in your eyes. Wonwoo didn’t care about anyone else at that moment, you were the only woman he wanted, and he would do everything in his power to call you his.
He’s been made aware of your continuous strain of failed relationships, and he was determined to break that pattern because you were a woman of value who deserved every good thing the world had to offer.
Back at your hotel, you were suddenly restless after the dinner. A feeling of unease had crept up on you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your official debut at fashion week, or the fact that you were going to be facing hundreds of people tomorrow. You were always good at handling crowds, but with an event like Fashion Week, you had no idea what to expect.
“Hey, you’re pacing. What’s going on? Is something on your mind?” Wonwoo had walked out of the bedroom and noticed you pacing around nonstop in the living room. You shake your head at him, brushing off your anxiety, and telling him you were fine when you weren’t.
“You’re not ok, I can tell. Sit down and let’s unpack if you’re up for it, or we can just cuddle. The choice is yours,” Wonwoo brings you into his arms, and you bask in his warmth and comfort.
You felt so vulnerable and wanted to just rest in someone’s arms, so when Wonwoo picked you up and brought you over to the couch, you welcomed the gesture.
“You never fail to make me feel better Won, thank you for always being the best. I feel so bad for being vulnerable right now, but you constantly take care of me so well. I swear it’s just nothing and it’s just my nerves getting the best of me because of tomorrow,” Wonwoo held you tighter, and you never felt so safe in someone’s arms before.
“They’re going to love you out there, you’ve already gotten this far on your own, building your company up higher and higher. You deserve everything Y/n, and we’ll be by your side the entire time to support you. Breathe in and breathe out, the crowds won’t be a bother since we’ll make sure you get there in one piece, ok?” You nod into Wonwoo’s chest and feel his steady breathing.
It felt so nice being so close to him, and you finally decided that it was time to give him an answer and make things official between you both. “Won, could I tell you something?” You look up at him. Wonwoo nods and smiles softly as he runs a hand through your hair.
“Anything you need pretty girl, I’m all ears,” You swore you felt your heart melt. He just looked at you with so much adoration and love in his eyes, you didn’t understand what you did to deserve someone like him.
“I think I’m ready to make things official between us, I had a whole other thing planned out in how I would give you my answer, but that backfired and I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” You were yapping at this point, but Wonwoo let you go on your tangent like usual with a huge grin on his face.
“You don’t understand how happy I am to hear those words coming from you, thank you for giving me the chance to treat you right, gorgeous. Any answer from you would make me happy either way and now I get to officially call you my girlfriend,” Wonwoo plants a chaste kiss on your lips and pulls away to see you looking like a blushing mess.
Loving Wonwoo was so easy, being with him was easy, and you both effortlessly fit into each other’s lives. Maybe you weren’t the problem, but the people you had been with were just the wrong ones.
When the next day rolled around, you were already awake in bed, wrapped in not only the comforter but also in Wonwoo’s arms.
You turned to face him and watched his sleeping form, you couldn’t comprehend that he was finally yours, and suddenly every moment spent with him over the past few months had started coming back to you.
The flowers were always the most memorable. Wonwoo would constantly buy you flowers, whether they meant something or not, he would always have them on hand during a date or when he simply visited you throughout the week.
“You don’t have to get me flowers all the time you know? I love and appreciate the gesture but I hate to see you spend so much,” You giggle. Wonwoo shakes his head dismissively and pretends to shush you, causing you to laugh at his actions.
“I want to, and besides, why make money when I can’t spend it on you? You deserve it. You work so hard every day and it’s my token of appreciation for the most outstanding woman I could ever be with,” Wonwoo replies proudly. Always the charmer, Jeon Wonwoo.
The next most memorable thing was just Wonwoo’s endless effort to take care of you and make you feel loved in every way possible.
Since Wonwoo is the caretaker type, he would meticulously plan out dates, ask your secretary for your schedule ahead of time, and even ask you what you felt like doing that day just so you could be happy. It was something you never thought would ever be possible in your years of dating.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You hear Wonwoo’s morning voice and it snaps you out of your daze.
Wonwoo was there, arms around your waist, and looking soft as ever. You run a hand through his hair and hold him close to you.
“I was just thinking about how amazing the past few months with you had been, you always do so much for me, and I always appreciate the effort. Thank you Wonwoo,” You kiss him and Wonwoo responds with just as much need. He cups your face and you instantly melt into the touch of his hand.
“I will continue to treat you as such, and I hope you do not expect any less. You’re the reason I keep going these days, and being with you is something I will forever thank the stars for doing. I can’t wait to spend all these years with you, Y/n,” Wonwoo pulls away and takes in your features.
You chuckle and sit up in bed before taking your phone from the nightstand. You check the time and in moments, you realize you still need to get ready.
“Won, I’m gonna go get ready. We leave for the venue in an hour or two for final adjustments, and I still need my hair and wardrobe done before we leave,” You practically jump out of bed and Wonwoo laughs at how frantic you are. Always the perfectionist, but he found you endearing in every way possible.
Wonwoo watches as you get your hair and makeup done, his own not taking as much time, so he decided to watch you get yours done.
“You’re staring, Mr. Jeon,” You notice him from behind you. Wonwoo shakes his head and continues to watch you. You are the most beautiful woman in his eyes without a single doubt.
At the venue, there were already a lot of people lined up and getting ready for the fashion show. The press was there taking pictures of the celebrities, and you noticed Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Minghao eating up the attention.
Crowds were going wild at how gorgeous your friends looked, but you and Wonwoo decided to catch up with them after the show since you still had to go backstage.
“Will you be fine with Yerin, love? I don’t wanna disturb your work so I’ll be heading out to join the others. If you need me, just ask her to call me and I’ll be here for you,” Wonwoo smiles. He knows how much focus you’ll be putting on the show, so he decided not to delay you any longer.
“I’ll be ok, love. Thank you, again. You guys just sit back and enjoy the show, and I’ll be right with you guys,” You smile warmly.
Wonwoo nods and makes his way out to find Mingyu, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Seungkwan, who are already seated near each other.
“Wonwoo! Over here! Can you believe it? Y/n’s finally officially debuting overseas, she deserves it so much,” Wonwoo slips into the seat beside Mingyu, and takes notice of your friends Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo, and Rosé sitting behind them.
“She’s been working so hard lately, she really does deserve it,” Wonwoo replies proudly. Soonyoung and Vernon joined them shortly after, along with Joshua and Seokmin, and the show was finally about to begin.
The models walked down, all in pieces Wonwoo had seen in your sketchbook, and now they were finally coming to life. From the shoes to the bags, all the way down to the accessories, he could recognize your designs from anywhere because it was just so you. He took videos because he proudly wanted to show you that he is always going to be your number one supporter.
The show had gone by in a breeze, and you came out from behind the models, looking like one of them even, before bowing as the audience clapped for you. Wonwoo could see the sparkle in your eyes, and the way you were glowing with happiness. You look like an angel.
All your close circle of friends had then gathered, and you walked towards them. They showered you with words of congratulations, how proud they were of you, and you thanked your friends for their endless support. Out of nowhere though, as Lisa was hugging you to congratulate you, your eyes fell on Wonwoo, who was holding a beautiful bouquet of roses.
Mingyu laughed as he pushed the man toward you, and you felt shy upon seeing his appearance. Wonwoo looked so dashing while wearing a full collection of your clothes, and he was handing you your favorite flowers like a prince. You wish you were dreaming because everything felt so surreal at that moment.
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a-little-unsteddie · 6 months
Text
under the weather || steddie
this is for @rogueddie’s bday! i’m sorry it’s late but i fell ill and am only just starting to feel better. i thought a sickfic was fitting for the situation :b. hope you like it, eddie! and i hope your bday was good <3
sickfic, pre-relationship, technically post-s4
No one had seen or heard from Steve in three days.
Eddie knew he didn’t really have any right to be as worried as he was, seeing as even after spring break the two of them hadn’t gotten close. Eddie hadn't wanted to push his luck, knowing exactly how he acted during the apocalypse. There was no way that Steve didn't know that Eddie was gay, and despite Robin’s vague assurances, Eddie didn't want to press his luck much farther. But he was. Worried, that is.
Despite not being that close, Eddie still knew that Steve would never intentionally miss picking up the kids from Hellfire—now hosted at the new Munson house, government provided. He was even less likely to miss picking up Robin from work, which was what really caused Eddie to worry.
Robin had called Eddie and asked him to check on Steve, because in spite of their adamant denial, her mother still thought she and Steve were dating, and refused to let her go over to his house alone.
“Just…check on him, please,” Robin had asked him quietly, her voice tinny on the receiver.
“Of course, birdie,” Eddie replied, frowning at the counter. “I’m not sure if he’ll want to see me, though. Wouldn’t it be better to send Nancy or Jonathan?”
“No,” came Robin’s hasty reply, “no, he’d rather see you than either of them.”
That had confused him enough into agreeing and hanging up to get ready to go to the Harrington’s to check on Steve. He didn’t know what to expect, so he just grabbed a can of soup and shoved it into his bag, along with some weed, and just in case, he grabbed his pocket knife.
Unable to think of any more scenarios right at that moment, Eddie left before he could overthink it.
Fifteen minutes and a few ignored stop signs later, Eddie stood at the front door to Steve’s house. He knocked first, and then a few minutes later, rang the doorbell. When there was still no response, Eddie grabbed his knife and checked to see if the door would open. Fortunately,—or unfortunately, it did.
Eddie crept around, listening for any signs of danger and life in general, as he peered into the kitchen from the living room. He passed the stairs and heard coughing coming from somewhere upstairs and frowned. He put the knife away, and made his way slowly up the stairs.
“Harrington?” Eddie called, poking his head into the door that led to his room. The sight that greeted him was heartbreaking, Steve was under a bunch of blankets, the only part of him that was visible was his hair, which looked uncharacteristically greasy.
“Steve?” he called again when it didn’t look like Steve was moving.
Just as he was about to panic, he heard Steve groan in response, what could have been “Munson”, but sounded closer to “m’ns’n”. Steve pulled the blanket down and squinted in Eddie’s direction and whined when his eyes were greeted with light.
“Oh, Steve,” he breathed, glad that he was just sick and not in mortal danger. Eddie rushed over to him and felt his forehead, which was burning up.
“M’fine,” Steve croaked, trying to weakly push away Eddie’s hand. “Was jus’ gon’ get up,” he breathed, trying to sit up.
“Oh, no you don’t, big boy,” Eddie said firmly, pushing him back into bed. “You’re sick, sweetheart. Stay in bed.”
“M’not sick,” he protested, and then immediately started coughing. Once the coughing fit was done, Steve mumbled, “Maybe m’sick.”
“You think so, sweetheart?” Eddie teased gently as he helped Steve lay back down.
“W’d,” Steve started, but a coughing fit took over the sentence before he could even try to complete it. Eddie’s heart went out to him, aching as he watched Steve shiver once the fit was done. “Wh’d’r’you do’n’ere?”
Steve’s words were so slurred that Eddie had to make an educated guess as to what he meant, “Robin was worried about you,” he explained, “wanted me to check on you.”
“‘bin?” Steve breathed, eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.
“Yeah, Robin. She’s really worried. Rest now, I’ll get some things to help you feel better, okay?” Eddie murmured and didn’t wait for Steve to respond before he made his way out of the room.
The next two days were spent with Eddie nursing Steve back to health. Steve slept through most of the first day and a half, but seemed to be getting more lucid on the third day. Instead of being completely disoriented from reality, he seemed to be embarrassed that Eddie had to help him, which he was quick to shoot down.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than take care of me,” Steve insisted, probably for the third time. “I can take care of myself from here.”
“I’m sure you can, Stevie,” Eddie said, just as patient the third time as he was the first. “But you don’t have to, I want to take care of you, I like taking care of you.”
Steve’s face turned red, and Eddie bit back a smile as he handed over the fresh bowl of soup. He wanted to say that it was the fever causing Steve’s face to be so red, but his fever had broken the day before. The only thing that Eddie could think of that he’d be blushing right now was something he didn’t even want to consider, in case he had it wrong. He’d spent so long avoiding the jock because he was scared he’d some how sense his big gay crush on him, he didn’t want to jump to conclusions off of a few days taking care of him.
It was a nice thought, though.
“Thank you,” Steve said quietly as he held the bowl in stable hands. The first day Steve had tried to hold it himself, but was shaking so much that it was impossible, so Eddie had fed him then. It’d taken every ounce of self-control to not get overwhelmed with the closeness, instead he focused on the task.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Eddie said, sitting back in the armchair that Steve had in his room.
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Steve asked with a frown.
“I ate downstairs while making your food,” and it wasn’t a lie, he’d made himself a sandwich.
He didn’t look pleased at the answer, but accepted it nontheless.
“What day is it?” Steve asked after he finished his soup.
Eddie hummed, “Uhh, Thursday, I think. Yeah, Thursday.”
“I was supposed to pick up Dustin from school today,” Steve exclaimed, and immediately tried to get out of bed.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie stopped him, forcing him back into his bed. “The Sinclairs took care of it. Robin also took care of your shift yesterday and Keith is working your shift today, unwillingly, but doing it.”
Steve deflated, but sidn’t lean back. “Can I at least go to the living room?” he asked with a pout. Eddie staunchly refused to acknowledge the way his heart fluttered.
Maybe he was catching whatever cold Steve had.
Eddie sighed, pretending at being exasperated. “I suppose I can let you do that,” he said, standing to help Steve up. The jock was still shaky on his legs, but much more stable than he had been.
Together they worked their way downstairs slowly, taking it one step at a time. Eventually Eddie helped Steve ease onto the couch, and then went over to the tv and VCR.
“What movie do you want?” he asked, looking back at Steve, catching him blushing and looking away. He raised his eyebrows, bewildered as to what he could have been doing that warranted that reaction.
“Uh..” Steve slowly grinned, “Grease.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, groaning. “Of course you want to watch Grease,” he sighed, grabbing the tape and putting it in. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Stevie.”
Steve blushed, and grinned widely at Eddie as the metalhead made his way back to the couch. He lifted the blanket and Eddie smiled softly, settling into the couch next to him.
“It’s a good movie,” Steve protested. He must have still been loopy from being sick, because he curled into Eddie’s side, and forced him to wrap his arm around Steve.
Eddie tried to keep his heart steady, but found himself unable to.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
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