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mouthfullofmunson · 7 months

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Dirty little secret

Summary: Eddie is in desperate need of a fake girlfriend after lying to his band mates about his dream girl.

Warnings: so extremely cheesy, corny, very much classic romcom tropes! Swearing, smut :p not exactly proofread!!

Wc: 11.5k

Y/n walks home, soft rain pattering on the concrete, she watches the drops splash on her black boots. After a long shift at the hideout all she wants to do is get back home to her cozy apartment where she can wash the liquor scent off of her and become useless on her couch.

“Hey, you!” She adjusts her tiny headphones, turning up the volume on her Walkman to drown out any noise around her. “Hey!” She walks a little faster when she spots a van out of her peripheral vision. The van drives slowly, matching her speed. “Hey!” She finally pulls one headphone away from her ear, turning to look at the man.

“What?!” His eyes widen for a second before they return back to normal. “You work at the bar right? The hideout?” She gives him a skeptical look, either he is a regular or a stalker and she doesn’t have the time for either. “Why should I tell you?!” The wavy haired man softly laughs, his ringed hand tapping on the exterior of the old van. “I see you there all the time.”

“Hm…well maybe you’re thinking of someone else?” Y/n picks back up and continues her walk home, but not before she's stopped again. “I need you to do me a favor!” She slowly turns her head back to him, trying to decide if she should give him the time of day or continue on home. “Before you call me crazy and run away, I’m Eddie, my band plays at the hideout every tuesday- you've worked a couple shifts when we play.”

She huffs, but ultimately decides that he might have something valuable to say. “Yeah, so what?”

“So,” he pulls the key out of his van and steps out, feeling the relief of his jeans clad legs finally being stretched. “Just hear me out before you say anything, okay? Basically I'm like the only single one in my band so I kind of…maybe told them that I have a girlfriend?” Eddie finally ends his spell and waits for Y/n’s response. She tosses her arms out a little, letting her hands slap back on her legs. “Sorry about that. What does this have to do with me?”

Eddie gives her a smile, “And that’s where you come in. You are… close enough to the description of what I gave them. So what do you say? Will you be my fake girlfriend?” She blinks at him, her eyes bugging out in disbelief of what she’s hearing. She scoffs, not being able to form any words. Gulping, she finally musters up a response to this maniac. “Are you serious?! What’s wrong with you? We hardly know each other.” She rubs her forehead, looking back down at the sidewalk.

“Well, yeah. I need this, I’ll pay you back! I’m not sure how, but I promise I’ll make it up to you! And who wouldn’t want to have this.” His hands scan his body, trying to show off what a prize he is. Y/n shakes her head, not that this isn't interesting, and maybe the drama of it all will spice up her ever so boring life of sleeping and working, but she still isn’t sure. “I’ll have to think about it. I’ll call you!”

And with that she makes her way back to her apartment.

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Y/n’s been thinking a lot about that strange encounter with Eddie earlier. He wasn’t a complete stranger, She’s been there a couple times when his band was playing a gig at the hideout but they’ve never had more than a five sentence conversation. She’s gotten into a bad loop of sleeping, working, sleeping, working, she hardly sees friends anymore and she definitely isn’t going out of her way to make any fun just herself, so fake dating really didn’t seem too bad. Maybe this will get her out of the house, and add a little excitement.

She flops open the phone book, finding Eddie’s number and dialing it. She waits for him to pick up, sitting on the counter, picking at her nails. He finally answers and her ear is instantly flooded with the sound of his raspy, sleepy voice. She has to admit, when she heard his tired voice she felt her breath hitch a little.

“What do you want?” He almost growls, his sleepy eyes growing heavier by the second, threatening to close and send him back into a deep sleep. “It’s me, Y/n. I was thinking about our conversation earlier.”

Eddie blinks his eyes back open, “So you call me at one in the morning? Couldn’t this have waited?” Y/n rolls her eyes, but damns herself for continuing to ignore the healthy sleep schedule she so desperately needs. “Well, I was going to agree to it. But maybe it’s just one of those crazy one AM thoughts. Who knows?”

Eddie rubs his hand over his face, rolling his eyes. “Are you doing it or what?” She waits a best before responding, to give herself a second longer to really think it through- but mainly just to leave Eddie waiting. “I’m doing it. But we need to lay down some ground rules. I’ll come over at two tomorrow-“ suddenly she’s interrupted by Eddie’s groggy voice “don’t you mean today?” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “I’ll see you at two.”

And just like that, she’s fake dating Eddie Munson.

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Y/n knocks on the door or Eddie’s trailer, patiently waiting to hear him walking towards the door. He flings open the door, standing in a pair of sweatpants with his plaid boxers coming out and a cut off tank top with his lower belly slightly peeking out from his hand resting at the top of the door frame.

“Come on in.” His free hand glides out to show her the way and he lets her step inside before shutting the door behind her. “This is my palace. Take a seat on the couch and I’ll be back with refreshments.” He walks down the hallway and soon joins Y/n on the couch with a cigarette between his lips, offering her one then lighting his own. “No thanks.” She moves the pack away from her and sits her bag in her lap.

“What did you call this meeting for?” He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, letting out the white Smokey air.

“If we are going to fake date we are going to do it my way.” Eddie glances at her without moving his head, then looks right back at the television. “We need to ease into it, not packing on the PDA right off the bat, but also seeming comfortable around each other. And I think it would help if we did some sort of test run, maybe I could properly meet these bandmates of yours before we jump in?”

Eddie ashes his cigarette, “Did you major in fake dating or something?”

“Haha, very funny asshole. Do you want to do this or not? You’re trying to act smug but you’re the one who had to lie to his friends about having a girlfriend.” Eddie lets out a sigh, extending his response by taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You’ll properly meet them on Friday.” She nods, jotting it down on her planner.

“We need to lay some ground rules, obviously don’t try to randomly shove your tongue down my throat. I think since it’ll be the first time I'm meeting them let’s just keep it simple, maybe hand holding, a cheek kiss or two. Nothing crazy.” Eddie laughs, leaning forward and crushing his cigarettes in the glass ashtray already full of white and grey ashes and cigarette butts.

“I’m not going to fuck you infront of them or anything, don’t worry. I understand boundaries.” He gives her a smile, faint dimples carving in his cheeks. He’s lucky he’s got a pretty face or she’d storm out right now.

She gives him a disapproving look before shaking her annoyance off and continuing with the plan. “Hugs, hand holding that’s all fine, cheek kisses or whatever- I guess that’s okay all the time. But an actual kiss or anything like that needs a little warning and easing into.”

“Yeah, all sounds good to me. So I’ll see you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

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Eddie’s van is pretty cozy. Despite the five curbs he’s run over and the ten stop signs he’s blown through, it’s actually been a nice ride. The diner they were meeting at was about fifteen minutes away and Eddie had called her an hour before telling her he was going to pick her up. His van was warm, surprisingly smelt good (she noticed the cherry scented air freshener he hung up), and was actually pretty clean. He had a few books in the back, a water bottle or two and a few cartons of cigarettes in the door- but it had a homey feel.

“Haha, sorry.” Eddie murmurs, making her sling forward as he breaks hard. Thank god for seatbelts.

He pulls into the diner parking lot, looking around to find a parking spot. The diner is pretty cute from the outside, it has. A blue roof and a bright LED sign, large windows giving you a peek into the busy restaurant.

Eddie jumps out, racing to open the door. “They are already here.” He holds a hand out, helping her out of the van. They walk inside, Eddie leading the way to the table the guys were sitting at. “Hey guys,” Eddie gives a little wave, pulling a seat out for Y/n then plopping himself next to her at the table. The diner was bright, checkered floors with red and white booth seats, neon colors everywhere. “This is Y/n, Y/n these are the guys.”

She smiles, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear. A boy with brown feathery hair sticks his hand out, “Hi gorgeous, I’m Gareth.”

Suddenly Eddie was hyper aware of the fact that his band mates were oogling his (fake) girlfriend. He grabs the underside of her chair and pulls her closer, reaching over Y/n and pushing Gareth’s hand down. “And he has a girlfriend.” Eddie stretches his arm in the top of Y/n’s chair, guarding her from the others.

“Well it’s nice to meet you guys! Eddie has told me so much about you.” She smiles, feeling warm and awkward with all the eyes on her. “Like what?” Another one speaks up, staring at her awkwardly. Eddie leans in her ear “That’s Doug. Ignore him.” Y/n softly laughs, “Tons of good stuff! I’ve seen you guys play a couple of times at the hideout. I work there every other day during the week and all weekend. I’m excited to get to know you all a little better.”

“Well, you’ll have tons of time on the trip! I’m Jeff. We’re all so excited to finally meet you, Eddie has really talked you up. I’m bringing my partner, Gareth and Doug are bringing their girlfriends so you won’t have to deal with us alone!” Y/n gives Jeff a sweet smile before turning her head to Eddie, her face instantly changing. “What the fuck is he talking about!?” She whispers, leaning in to whisper in Eddie’s ear.

“We’ll be right back.” Eddie announces to the group before him and Y/n step aside.

“What trio are they talking about?! You didn’t tell me about a trip!” Eddie rubs his face, “We go on a ‘group bonding’ trip every year. That's why I needed you, I couldn’t not bring a girl when everyone else is bringing their partners.” She groans, suddenly growing the urge to stomp her foot and fold her arms like a child.

“When is it?”

“Next week”

“How long will we be gone?”

“Only a week.”

Y/n huffs, rubbing her forehead then crossing her arms. “I think I can swing it. I never miss a day at work and I’m always on time, and I always pick up extra shifts if they need someone so maybe I can talk them into some sort of paid time off?”

Eddie bites at his fingernails, “so you’re coming?”

“I guess so.” Eddie claps, giving her a smile. “You won’t regret it, sweets!”

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It’s a chilly morning, the ground frosted over, chattering teeth and near frozen eyelashes, but with the body heat of five guys, and two girls, Y/n was more than warm. Usually being up at Seven in the morning on such a cold winter morning would have Y/n seething with regret and frustration for agreeing to such early plans, but this morning was quite different already.

Eddie picks her up last, giving her a little extra time to sleep since she had previously made it very clear that if she doesn’t get a full eight hours of sleep she will not be getting out of bed at all and if she is forced she will “reign terror on all of Hawkins”. He tosses her luggage in the back, the other girlfriends already asleep in the back row, and then lets her hop in the passenger seat as they head up to the cabin they rented for the trip.

The boys are loud, and the music they blast was about to give Y/n a major migraine, but it was oddly enjoyable. They had a nice energy to them, they were all smiles and laughs, the good energy was rubbing off on her.

She was looking forward to this week, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, especially if she got some alone time. She’s always thinking she needs to give herself a break since it’s not stop working for her, and this is the week just for that. She’s overpacked but not in her mind, she’s brought anything and everything she needs to make this week's stay as comfortable as she can and she intends to do that. She hopes the cabin has a nice big bathtub so she can use the fancy bath salts she packed.

Eddie turns the music down a couple notches, “having a good time?” He reaches for her hand, and at first she almost pulls it away but reminds herself that they have to act natural. “Yeah, the music is a little loud though.” He laughs, “they’ll be louder than the music will ever get if I try to turn it down. Good luck.”

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The drive hasn’t been so bad, now that they are an hour into the drive the boys have settled down, the adrenaline and excitement has worn off and now they are a little sleepy. Everyone’s head is either pressed against the window or sagging back onto the headrest of their seats. Y/n huffs, sinking into the passenger seat that is growing evermore uncomfortable by the second. She presses her forehead against the glass of the window, closing her eyes.

Eddie pants her hand and she cracks an eye open. “No you don’t. If I can’t get any sleep you can’t either. You can sleep once we’re at the cabin.” She groans, rubbing her eyes while trying to stretch to the best of her abilities in the limited space. She wracks her brain, trying to recall a time where she agreed to be woken up early, then stay up the whole two hour drive with Eddie while everyone else slept- but she guesses it’s a good thing a girlfriend would do.

“Okay, but” she yawns. “I don’t know if that will last long.”

Eddie turns the music up a little louder, “we’ll stop to get gas soon. Just hang in there for about five more minutes maybe? There should be something coming up.”

A couple more minutes pass by and before y/n knows it Eddie is pulling up to a gas pump. She swings the door open, jumping out. The relief of stretching her legs is unmatched and she paces a couple times.

Everyone stumbles out of the van, everyone equally as excited to be able to stretch their bodies and get some fresh air that wasn’t contaminated by cigarette smoke or the smell of a bunch of twenty year old boys.

As Eddie shoves the nozzle in and starts pumping gas he wraps his arm around Y/n, pulling her into a little hug. She leans in, resting her head against his chest. His hand reaches up to play with her hair and she pulls away from the hug, letting his arm continue to rest around her shoulder and play in her hair.

It is a little awkward to hang on to each other like that but she’s going to have to get used to it if she’s going to survive the week. She came here to do this favor for Eddie, and as much of an annoying asshole he is, she still plans to follow through with this to the best of her abilities.

“You can head in with them.” Eddie says, nodding over to the group that is heading into the gas station to grab whatever road trip snacks they can find. “It’s fine, It would make more sense to stay with you, right? I don’t really do this whole dating thing.” Eddie nods, “Me either. If I’m honest, I’ve never really had a girlfriend. I wasn’t exactly the most popular in high school.”

“Yeah, I had a few dates but they never went anywhere.”

The gang comes out of the store, white bags filled up with different bags of chips, cookies, and different sodas. Eddie tops off the tank, closing it up and opening Y/n’s door before hopping back in and starting up the van to continue their journey up to the cabin.

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The sudden stop wakes Y/n up, feeling Eddie’s warm hand on her shoulder softly shaking her awake. She rubs her eyes, yawning. “Are we there?” Eddie laughs, “Yeah, we’re here.” She blinks her eyes open. The snow is falling, bundling the dark cabin in a white blanket of snow. It piles up high on the ground and stacks up on the room. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” She steps out of the car, pulling zipping her coat up to her chin to hide herself from the bitter cold.

Eddie opens the trunk of the van, pulling out everyone’s luggage. He throws his beat up old duffle bag around his shoulder and then grabs Y/n’s suitcase, lifting it so it doesn’t track snow in. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” Eddie shakes his head, “I’ve got it, sweets. I’m pretty strong.” He mumbles with a wink, grabbing the key from the mailbox and unlocking the door.

Y/n has to keep her jaw from dropping. The cabin is absolutely beautiful, big and open with warm, dim lighting. There’s a brick fireplace in the living room with a big puffy couch, knit blankets tossed over the back, Sliding glass doors that lead out to a big deck. When you walk in there is a kitchen to your left, a round wooden dining table with glossy cabinets, little green accents all through the kitchen.

Eddie leans forward, “stop gawking and go snatch the best room before anyone else can.” And with that Y/n turns the corner, walking through the hallway and jogging upstairs. All the bedroom doors are open, showing off the perfectly pristine rooms. She peeks through each room until she stumbles upon the biggest one. She opens the door to the bathroom, a nice big bathtub with a standing shower next to it, a big mirror and two sinks.

She would definitely be comfortable here for a week. A big cozy cabin that looks like it’s straight out of a fairytale book, the biggest and nicest room with snow blowing in, she didn’t have anywhere to be or anything to do besides relax. The only downside is that she would have to constantly be putting in a performance when in front of everyone but despite that, it was perfect.

“Well I could get used to this.” She hears Eddie’s deep voice from behind her. Spinning around on her heels, Eddie gives her a quick smile. “Nice huh? And where will you be sleeping? The floor?” Y/n rolls her eyes at him, “No, maybe you should go sleep on the couch downstairs while I take this nice bed.” She pats the king sized bed while Eddie throws their bags on it. “Or maybe there will be a spare room for you?”

It’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. He crosses his arms against his chest, “in all seriousness, let’s just try to make this weekend as easy as possible. And don’t go falling in love with me, sweets.”

She fake gags then opens her suitcase, if she’s going to be staying here for a week she’s going to make it comfortable. She pulls her folded clothes out and shoves them into the dresser, then hangs her sweaters and whatever else she doesn't want getting creased or wrinkled. She takes out all of her toiletries, stashing them in their respective spots in the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower. I want to wash all your cigarette stench off.” Eddie nods, yawning. “Yeah, I’m going to build a fire. The guys are already bitching that they are cold.”

“Okay, I’ll be down soon.” She grabs a change of clothes, something cozy to bundle up in since today they were just getting comfortable in the cabin. “See you later.”

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Eddie sits next to the fireplace, tossing wood into it to start a fire so everyone will get off his ass about how cold they are.

“So how long have you and Y/n been together?” Jen, Gareth’s girlfriend asks. Eddie rubs his forehead, glancing over at the group who is all huddled on the couch. “Um, about six months I guess?” Maybe that’s how long he has been trying to lie about a girlfriend? He knows it’s pathetic, really, but with the way his friends (even his 16 year old friends) were making him feel about being single was too much that he had to make up some fake girlfriend.

“Awe! You guys are so cute together! How did you meet?” Eddie strikes a match then tosses it in to start the fire. Not exactly how he learned in cub scouts but it was good enough. “We met at the hideout. She works there.” He scratches his face, he’s not really in the mood to try to make up anymore details of his and Y/n's fake relationship.

“Were you playing a gig? That’s so cute! Have you said I love you yet?!” Jen is a nice girl, but god does she ask a lot of questions.

Out of the corner of his eye Eddie sees Y/n walk down the hallway and into the living room to join the rest of the group, and fuck is he happy to see her. “There you are. How was your shower?” Y/n takes her place next to Eddie, sitting by the fireplace. “It was good! I feel a lot better now.”

Now that they are here at the cabin with everyone, maybe they have underestimated how difficult this is going to be. Now that this is the first time everyone is properly meeting Y/n and getting to know them as a couple there will probably be endless questions about their relationship, their future plans, etc.

“Good, good. Now you can relax.” He picks at his nails, closing his eyes to relax.

Every year this trip is the highlight of his year. He loves coming up here and staying in for a week, doing absolutely nothing at all but hanging out with the guys. Usually they have some big fun thing planned, skiing, snowboarding, one year they tried to ice skate but that didn’t go very well, but with the stress of Eddie having to find someone to have a fake relationship with- well, they didn’t really get to plan anything big. But that’s okay, these trips are really all about reconnection and spending some quality time together.

“We were just talking about how cute you and Eddie are!” Y/n gives Jen a polite smile. “Oh I’m sure Eddie just loved that, hm?” She pats Eddie’s chest, relaxing back into the pillows Eddie threw down by the fireplace for him to sit. “I was just asking him some questions, is all. You guys met at the hideout? He said that you work there!”

Y/n glances over at Eddie. “Yeah, he was playing a gig when we met. I guess his whole rockstar thing just kind of drew me in. Love at first sight!”

“Oh, so you guys have said I love you!?” Eddie and Y/n make direct eye contact, and thank god Eddie had a little sketch book out or else they both would’ve been in trouble. He quickly scribbles in the corner of the book, his handwriting spikey and in all caps reading “we’ve been together for 6 months” trying to quickly fill her in on a few things they haven’t gone over due to Jen’s questions.

“Yeah, yeah. What about you and Gareth? Enough about us!” Y/n shifts the conversation, not wanting to get caught up in any confusion or lies. “Enough about you?! This is the first time we’ve met Eddie’s girlfriend! To be honest I didn’t know if we were ever going to meet you, he’s hidden you from us for so long I just want to know everything.”

Y/n wanted to kill Eddie for refusing to go over more plans for this fake dating scheme, but she also wanted to thank him for taking a hundred stops on the trip even though she was annoyed. He made her wake up so early just for him to stop every fifteen minutes and make them get to the cabin at sundown. She blames all the peach tea he was guzzling but she’s so thankful for it at this moment.

“It’s getting kind of late. I think I’m going to head to bed. Tomorrow we’ll have all day to get to know each other, right? Eddie has talked about you so much so I can’t wait to get to know you.” She tries to politely excuse her and Eddie off to bed but she gets pulled back down by Jen’s constant questioning. “It’s only nine! How are you already sleepy?” Jen laughs, repositioning herself to get comfortable to stay up a couple more hours.

“She gets car sick. So I think we’re going to get some shut eye.” He stands up, putting his hands on Y/n’s shoulders and giving them a quick rub as she leads the way off to their room.

Once they get in the room Eddie shuts the door. “What the fuck are we going to do about Jen’s constant questioning?!” Y/n scoffs and shakes her head, dressing down the bed for sleep since they don’t have much else to do. “You’re the one who said it was “dramatic and not necessary” to go over the details! Eddie groans, flopping down on the bed. “This is your fault, Eddie! Don’t get grumpy with me.”

“Shit!”

“Shit is right! We will just have to go over whatever details we can think of tonight.” Eddie stands back up, dropping his pants and ripping his shirt off until he’s just in tube socks and boxers. He slides back in bed, taking his time to get comfortable, ignoring the fact that he’s loudly fluffing his pillow and practically jumping on the bed. Y/n huffs, tossing a body pillow in the middle of the bed to separate their sides.

“How are we supposed to know what the fuck else she’s going to ask us?! She might personally quiz us on facts about each other.” Y/n’s throws her hands in the air, “Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. We just go over simple things that a girlfriend and boyfriend should know about each other! Some family stuff, age, name, the obvious!”

“Well I’m pretty sure we’re the same age, and you know my name!” Eddie tosses and turns trying to get in the perfect spot. “Keep your voice down or they are going to think we’re fighting and question us even more.”

“Okay, my name is Eddie, your name is Y/n, we’re both twenty-two-unless you’re hiding something? You’re favorite thing about me is my gorgeous hair and my favorite thing about you is your personality. Is that solved?”

Y/n’s jaw almost drops at how annoying he can be. “I’m going to bed! I guess we’ll just play this all by ear.”

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Three days into the trip and it’s been a breeze. Eddie and Y/n have had a few hiccups, but nothing to throw them off too hard. Jen got the message and stopped her constant questions, which kind of made them feel bad because she didn’t mean any harm, she’s just a curious cat.

After more arguing they finally settled down and stopped being so stubborn and went over a few things. They both got to know the basics, just simple get to know me icebreakers you would tell about yourself on the first date- not that either of them would really know what to say on a first date, but they tried to fill each other in as best as possible without staying up all night to share their whole life story.

“You know, you snore really fucking loud.” Eddie says, walking out of the bathroom with toothpaste still on his chin. Y/n folds up her clothes, shaking her head. “Well you kick, and you groan, and you drool but I haven’t complained about it.” A smile appears on Eddie’s plump lips as he walks over to what has become his side of the room, digging through his bag to find some clothes for the day.

“You love every second of it.” Y/n raises her eyebrow, “I’ll see you downstairs, weirdo.”

Y/n joins the group downstairs, everyone huddled in the kitchen eating breakfast. “Hey guys” smiles full of pancakes and bacon greet her back. “Where is Eddie?” Jeff asks, looking around to see if he had missed him- which was pretty hard to do since he sticks out like a sore thumb with his crazy dark hair and his loud mouth. “He should be coming down any second!” She grabs a plate, adding two pancakes onto it, a pat of butter, and some maple syrup.

Eddie comes down almost scarily quiet, coming up behind her and kissing her cheek. “Oh thanks for making my plate, sweets!” He takes the plate of pancakes from her, adding on some bacon and a mountain of potatoes. “Gotta fuel up for the day.” He gives his signature smile then shovels a pile of pancakes into his mouth.

Y/n shakes her head, grabbing another plate and making breakfast of her own- again. She joins the rest of the group at the table, sitting down next to Eddie where he shovels food into his mouth like a starved man.

“I can’t believe we still have eleven days left of the trip.” Doug says, a smile on his face. “It’ll be over before we know it. I don’t want it to end!” Y/n turns to look at Eddie, his face just as full of confusion as hers is. “What do you mean eleven days? Are we not leaving Monday morning?” Y/n looks around, waiting for a response while everyone looks at her confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie says between a mouthful of potatoes.

“I’d like to know too.” Y/n says, her voice slow and confused.

“We’re staying here for two weeks. That’s been the plan all along.” Jeff pipes up, shrugging at Eddie like he’s stupid. “Well who the fuck was going to tell me that?” Eddie gulps down orange juice after then wipes the juice that falls from his plump lips with the back of his ringed hand. “We all decided to add another week to the trip, you were there.” Eddie tosses his hands up in the air and Y/n stands up, grabbing his arm to lead him to the bathroom to talk about whatever the hell was going on.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me we’re staying here for two weeks?!” Eddie scoffs at Y/n, shaking his head. “Obviously I didn’t know either! You think I wouldn’t have told you?” She groans, smacking her hand down on the sink. “Why didn’t you pay attention?!”

Eddie’s jaw drops, throwing his arms in the air. “Maybe if you would have paid more attention you would’ve figured it out!”

Y/n grabs the hand towel, slapping him in the arm with it. “You’re so frustrating!” The room goes silent for a while, both of them thinking how this is going to work out, how they can deal with another week of this without cracking.

Suddenly Y/n hears Eddie’s deep chuckle, shooting her head up to see his arms cross against his chest while he has a crooked smirk on his face. “What?” He continues to laugh, rubbing a hand over his mouth to try to stop the laughter. “Are you done with your fit now?” She’s a little annoyed, but can’t help but crack a smile. All Y/n has to do is let her family know that she will be gone another week so they don’t get worried if they try to call or visit, she needs to call the hideout and let her manager know that she’s going to be gone longer than anticipated. And luckily she has enough to fall back on since she will be out of work for two weeks.

“I think I can swing it.” She rubs her forehead, “Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Eddie claps his hands together, smiling. “Then let’s get back out there and shove our faces full before we head out today.”

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Thankfully, the group found some stuff to do so they won’t be totally cooped up in the cabin the whole entire trip. The guys want to go to some of the bars around the little town they were staying in, and there are some random touristy spots they wanted to hit, like a snowy hike Eddie seemed excited for, but Y/n is not excited in the slightest. She wasn’t excited for hiking in the freezing cold, ice everywhere, smoke coming from your mouth anytime you speak, teeth chattering.

“Are you almost ready?” Eddie asks, pushing the door to the bathroom where she is getting ready. She gasps, looking back at Eddie. “What the fuck?” A smeared black line is under her eye, blinking fast since the wand hit her pupil. “Um, you’ve got something right here.” She groans, smacking her hand down on the sink, letting her mascara wand fall from her hand.

“You just ruined my makeup, Eddie!” He walks back over to her, lifting his hand up and circling around his eye. “Right there?” She nods, “Yeah, you don’t need all that shit anyways. It just hides your face from me.” Y/n is taken aback, her face gets hot as he walks out of the room.

“What?”

“Five minutes! Come on!” He claps his hands together as she hears him swing the door open and jog down the stairs.

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Y/n feels like an outsider.

Everyone is already well acquainted with each other, having established relationships that have lasted years. The guys are all sticking together and the other two girls have been friends for a while, so Y/n is kind of stuck. She gets along with the other partners, but the only one she’s comfortable enough to talk to is Eddie. So she lingers around behind him while everyone else chats about. She doesn’t mean to leave herself out, or seem rude, but she isn’t sure how to include herself and she doesn’t want to form some bond with these people if she’s never going to see them after this trip.

Eddie clearly enjoys hiking. He’s climbing huge rocks and going above and beyond, nearly causing everyone a heart attack when he fake trips near the edge of a cliff- completely ignoring the ice and snow all around him.

It’s not that Y/n isn’t athletic or necessarily hates hiking, it just isn’t her thing. She feels out of place enough and heavy breathing in the freezing cold in the back of the group is a little humiliating.

Patches of ice cover the big rock steps, everyone carefully trying to avoid them so they don’t slip. Snow falls and covers most of the steps so it’s a big guessing game on where the ice is under the heaps of snow.

Y/n grabs onto the railing they built for people to hold so they wouldn’t fall on the steep stairs. She tracks up the stairs, successfully navigating the rocks. She steps onto the last one and instantly feels unsteady, her foot sliding from under her from the slippery ice under it. She falls on the stairs, smacking one knee on a sharp edge and her chin on the ground.

“Oh fuck!” She hears, already growing more embarrassed than ever at the eyes she knows are on her. Eddie scrambles to help her up, “Careful now!” He whispers as she stumbles. Her eyes well up and she blinks hard to try to keep her tears at bay. She's not sure if the tears are out of embarrassment or the nauseating pain. Eddie sizes up her injuries, wincing and turning her head. “You guys go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

There’s spots of blood in the snow and the knee of her pants is completely soaked through. “C’mon sweetheart. Let’s sit you down.” He takes her hand and leads her to a little bench, throwing his first layer of jackets onto it so she doesn’t have to sit on the wet wood. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbles, feeling bad that Eddie has to stop when he’s clearly enjoying himself to clean up her mess.

“Honey, you don’t need to apologize for anything.” He softly chuckles, thumbing away her tears. “Can I check out your leg?” She nods, wiping her tears away while he shuffles her pants over her knee. “You’re lucky I’ve got all sorts of shit in here.” He pats his large hiking backpack and opens one of the front pockets, pulling out a first aid kit. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding but I’m going to try to clean it up as much as I can.” His tongue peaks out as he rips open some packages, wiping over her knee.

“Ah shit, I think you might need stitches.” She panics, shaking her head. “No, no, no! We’ve still got so much to do!”

“Who cares when you’re hurt? I don’t think anyone will mind if we skip bar hopping to get you taken care of. Now I can play doctor, I’ve had to stitch myself up a few times but I don’t want to risk that on you.” His tongue pokes out again as he bandages up her legs, wrapping it up. “I think that’ll do for now. Now let me see that chin, honey.”

He softly grips at her jaw, looking at the big cut under her chin. “Well, it doesn’t look good, but I think it just needs some cleaning up and you’ll be all better.” He rips open a little alcohol pad, whispering a warning before he wipes her cut clean. He sticks a padded bandage under it and pulls her pant leg back down.

“Okay, wounded soldier is all recovered.” He holds out a hand for her, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Eddie.” He rubs her shoulder, throwing his back back on his shoulder. “No problem, sweets. Let’s get back up there. The troops are waiting on us.”

Y/n successfully gets through the hike without any more accidents. Though she is embarrassed about the whole thing, she smiles through it. Eddie holds her hand the rest of the hike to ensure she wont lose her balance and end up injured again.

“Do you wanna go back to the cabin? We don’t have to go out with them.” Y/n shrugs while buckling herself into the van, Eddie starts it up and cranks the heat up to warm their red noses. “No, you’ve already had to hang back. I don’t want to keep you from them anymore.” Eddie leans in, “Truthfully, I don’t want to be their babysitter. So let’s hang back, yeah?” She nods, cracking a small smile. She was kind of relieved that Eddie doesn't want to go out, she wants everyone to have fun but she’s happy that she doesn’t have to hop around to crowded bars with a janky knee all night.

“Yeah.” And with that he drives off, dumping the group to some random bar and heading back to the cabin, Y/n half asleep next to him.

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“Wake up, sleepy head.” Eddie shakes Y/n awake , his hand on her shoulder. “We’re back. Time to get up.” Y/n blinks awake, stretching and rubbing her eyes before sitting back up. “Are we home?” She hears a warm chuckle from Eddie, his lopsided smile making her want to fall back into her cozy sleep. “We’re back at the cabin if that’s what you mean by ‘home’.” She nods, holding her hand out for him so he can help her out.

He leads them to the door. “You really did a number on yourself today, huh?” She nods, “I guess so.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie starts, opening the door and letting her walk through before shutting it behind them. “We can set up on the couch for the night. But first, I should probably double check to make sure you don’t need stitches.” She groans, but leads them to the bathroom nonetheless. Pathetically jumping up on the sink, Eddie knees the floor under her and rolls her pant leg up to investigate her injury again.

He peels the bandage, cleaning it with cool water. “You could use maybe one stitch. But you’ll heal fine without it. I’d do it myself, but you’re much too delicate for that, hm?” She gulps, nodding before he lifts her chin, wiping the dried blood clean. “Let’s keep these bandaged. You want to keep them clean, but you’ll heal them up in no time.” He pats her thigh to let her know she can jump down before he walks off.

Eddie gathers supplies, throwing down a mountain of blankets on the couch, along with all the snacks from the kitchen, and a pile of games he found in one of the hallway closets.

“We’ve got scrabble, monopoly, connect four, guess who, or we can just play D&D?” Y/n rolls her eyes, “What’s with all the baby games? It’s not 1981 anymore.”

Eddie scoffs, “You’re taking a lot of smack for someone who’s got a busted jaw. Shouldn’t it be all locked up or something?” Y/n laughs, plopping down beside him on the big puffy couch. She’s kind of happy that she slipped and busted her knee, if she didn’t they would probably be in a stuffy bar with old drunk men surrounding them who smell strong of liquor and body odor despite the cold temperatures. Without her injury she wouldn’t be wrapped up in a fur blanket on the couch, watching the snowfall in the big cozy cabin.

It’s crazy to think that a couple weeks ago she hardly knew Eddie and now she shared a bed with him every night.

“Let me get a fire going and then we’ll start a game or something? Maybe we can look through their VHS tapes?” Eddie stands up, walking over to the fireplace since there was an extra chill from all the snow piling up outside. “We can do anything. I’m happy as long as I’m on the couch.”

Eddie comes back after lighting the fire, “Well, let’s get this party started.”

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“I’m about to flip this fucking board over!” Eddie groans, smacking his ringed hand onto his forehead. “You chose monopoly don’t get pissed that you’re losing!” Eddie huffs, watching Y/n make her next move.

“I win! I win!” Y/n laughs loudly, sticking her arms up in celebration of her victory. Eddie shakes his head, trying to act mad. He grabs her arms pushing them back down- but she refuses and wrestles him away. Eddie can’t help but laugh along with her, wrestling her arms down. The board falls onto the floor with a clatter and they ignore it, Eddie straddling her legs while they fight. “You cheated! You are a cheater!” Y/n laughs loudly, Eddie smiling down at her. Suddenly his arms give out, the big smile not leaving his face. Y/n opens her eyes, her laugh suddenly fading as she sees Eddie above her.

The silence is loud, only their breathing can be heard before Eddie leans down, slotting his lips between hers.

The door suddenly swings open, making them fly apart like they were caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing. Eddie clears his throat, falling back on the cushion breathless, unable to make eye contact with Y/n.

Caught, both of their cheeks burn red. “Can’t wait until you get to your bedroom?” Doug questions them, letting out a throaty laugh while all the others stand there with smirks on their faces.

They both know that for people who are supposed to be in a relationship this is completely normal, but given their situation they are embarrassed to be caught, especially knowing what could have happened if they weren’t interrupted. “Fuck off, Doug. Don't act like I haven’t caught you two two unspeakable things. In my van too!” Doug gasps and Eddie snickers, walking back to their bedroom and Y/n follows hot on his tail.

Once they get into their bedroom Y/n shuts the door. Eddie stands there, watching her as she rubs her hands against her bare arms. Neither of them are sure what to say, obviously something happened back there and they would both be lying if they say they didn’t feel a spark.

“Well,” Y/n takes a step forward. “I think I’m going to get ready for bed. I shouldn’t be long- if you need the bathroom.” Eddie nods, biting at his fingernails. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.”

While she is in the bathroom he paces around the room before sliding his rings off onto this nightstand, leaning back onto the mattress and blowing out a sigh. He rubs his face, “what the fuck are you doing, Eddie?” He asks himself, wondering why he can’t get his thoughts straight. It’s supposed to be a two week thing, after this trip they can just fake a breakup and forget about this whole thing and move on with their lives. Eddie isn’t so sure about that. How can he ever just forget about all the memories he’s already made with her? Today was one of the best days of his life, being able to take care of her, spending the evening playing board games with her and completely letting her win.

“Do you mind if I turn off the light?” He hears her voice from the other side of the room, she stands next to the door, her hand on the switch. “No, go ahead. Let’s hit the hay.”

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A group of girls arrived in the cabin next to them today. The two other girls decided to invite them over to join them since they had a day planned of sitting in the hot tub and getting drunk.

The snow has stopped falling for the first time in their week-long stay, finally crawling up to a tolerable temperature of forty five degrees. Y/n and Eddie have completely ignored the moment they shared last week, taking the weekend to have a little alone time, the girls went out to get pedicures while the guys stayed in and played D&D. It was nice to get to know the girls, Y/n actually really enjoyed talking to them and getting a break from the nerdy guys was pretty nice.

“Okay, we’ve got enough beer for the day.” Eddie says, lifting two twenty four packs of beer and setting them on the table. “You’re joking… right?” Eddie shakes his head, “Duh!”

“Smart ass” Y/n mumbles, shoving the random groceries Eddie had bought into the refrigerator. “What did you say?” Eddie questions with the rise of an eyebrow, walking over to her and peeking at her face. “Oh nothing.” She hums, ignoring him standing behind her.

“Hm, no, I think I heard something!” Y/n shakes her head at Eddie’s words. “Nope, nothing.”

Eddie nods back at her, “Oh! Okay. Sounded like you called me a smart ass but maybe I misheard.” She softly laughs, shrugging. “You’re probably having auditory hallucinations. The beer is already getting to you.”

Eddie cracks a smile, “okay smart ass, go and get your bathing suit on before you end up in the spot next to Doug’s feet.” And with that Y/n jogs away to go put her swimsuit on and score them a good spot in the tub.

When Y/n gets back Eddie is already in the tub, a gap open which he obviously saved for her. On his opposite side is a girl, long dirty blond hair that falls mid back. She’s beautiful and Y/n can’t help but feel a little insecure in her color block bikini.

She turns back, walking into the kitchen. Feeling far too exposed to be walking around in the house, She tries to adjust the highwaisted bottoms and cups on her top to cover more, but to no avail. She dotes around, trying to figure out how to stall. She's not sure why seeing Eddie talking to that girl has got her so worked up, she feels a little lightheaded and her face is hot.

“What’s got you looking so green?” Jeff asks, stepping into the kitchen along with her.

“Um, nothing. What are you up to?” She places a hand on the cold surface of the table, trying to get her to calm down. She can feel herself getting increasingly angry with her own thoughts. Her and Eddie aren’t actually together, there’s no reason for her to feel so… jealous.

“I needed to go to the bathroom, but Eddie sent me for a beer.” Jeff complains, leaning against the fridge in his rubber ducky swim trunks. “That’s okay, I’ll grab it for him.” Jeff thanks her and runs off to the bathroom while Y/n collects a couple beers in her hands, knowing Eddie and the guys are bound to be taking a couple more trips to the fridge.

She slides into the hot tub next to Eddie, seeing the girl's hand placed on Eddie’s arm. A switch goes off in Y/n’s brain, “Here, babe. I got the beer you asked for.” Eddie turns his head, seeing her holding a can out for him. “Oh, thanks. Where did j-“ Y/n smashes her mouth into Eddie’s, cupping his jaw with one hand and pressing the other to his chest.

She slips her tongue in his mouth, Eddie taking a moment to process it before he slowly kisses back. She pulls away, red embarrassment painted all over her face. Eddie clears his throat, cracking open his beer. “I’ve got to go… clear my head.”

Y/n face palms. How stupid could she be? Of course he didn’t feel the same, he just needed a girl to play along with him so he didn’t have to tell his band mates his dirty little secret. She groans, getting out of the hot tub and ignoring the looks she gets from the girl. Y/n is sure she is nice, and she probably just ruined a potential girlfriend for Eddie, a real one.

She waits a while before she goes to talk to Eddie. As she walks up the stairs after fifteen minutes of sitting on the couch she plans what she will say to him, apologizing for shoving her tongue down his throat and getting jealous when she has no right. They aren’t actually together, this is all acting and she needs to respect that.

She opens the door to their shared room, hearing the shower running. She shuts the door behind her, sitting at the edge of the bed to wait for Eddie once he’s out. He was probably in the shower rinsing the chlorine out of his hair since he was trying to avoid it the best he could.

After a couple of minutes Y/n hears him turn the water off and she prepares for him to come out.

Eddie steps out, leaving the door cracked behind him to let the steam escape the bathroom. She opens her mouth to start, but promptly closes it. Eddie stands in front of the door, chest rising and falling with ragged breathing. She starts up again but fails to get any words out once more.

Eddie walks towards her, standing tall above her. Her breathing matches his, her chest suddenly feeling heavy. She reaches her hand up, settling it on his stomach and trailing it down before she pulls the white towel wrapped around his waist, letting it fall to the ground then wraps her hand around his thick cock. She’s at a loss for words as she takes in his naked form. His skin pale and pink, the dark blank ink of his tattoos contracting. His plump lips already puffy and bitten, his wet waves dripping down his chest and rolling past his belly button.

His cock is pretty and pink, long and thick. Perfect, just like she knew it would be.

“Eddie… I really like you.” He lets out a hiss then softly grabs her jaw, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “Fuck sweetheart, I’d love to talk about this right now but if you keep touching my dick I don’t know if we’re going to get any talking done.” He presses his lips back to hers, trailing them down to her neck. His hands grab at the strings of her bikini, trying to untie it but failing.

“Get this fucking thing off.” She softly laughs into his mouth, reaching behind her back and pulling the strings to untie them. He peels the wet top off of her skin, groaning at the sight of her tits. “Jesus Christ, honey.” He’s practically drooling at the sight of her, reaching out to run his hands along her body. “Get in the bed.” She listens to his order, crawling up the bed and laying in the middle, watching him follow her lead and crawl over her body.

Y/n reaches down, going to pull her bottoms down. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Eddie practically growls, pushing her hands away and slipping her swim bottoms off herself. Her chest heaves, begging him to do something, touch her, feel her. “Please.” Eddie smiles down at her, “please what? What do you want me to do?” His hands slide down her thighs and her hot skin warms his cold hands.

“Anything, please Eddie.”

He connects his mouth with hers again, moaning into the kiss. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and Y/n loves it, she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough.

Eddie’s lips trail down, pressing pecks down her arm, her chest, her sides, kissing over the little stretch marks that line her hips before he sinks between her thighs. “Is this good?” Eddie asks, his deep voice dripping out like honey that’s been sitting in the sun too long. His big brown eyes stare up at her, dusted with lust and heavy with need. “Yes, yes it’s perfect.” He lets out a deep laugh, making her squeeze her eyes shut as hard as she can to stop a moan from coming out of her pathetic mouth.

He finally lowers his head, pulling her thighs up to rest them over his shoulders. “Fuck look at that.” Eddie presses a kiss to her thigh, “is this all for me?” She bites her lip, nodding. Eddie dives in, pushing his tongue between her lips.

Y/n gasps, her hand flying into his dark waves. Her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of Eddie’s tongue working magic on her. He gently sucks at her clit while he slides a ringed finger inside of her. They hear a creek at the floor, the stepping sounds far too close to the room for their liking. Eddie looks up, panting. “Did you lock the door?” Y/n shakes her head and Eddie jumps up, walking to the door to quickly lock it before any of his rude friends could barge in.

Y/n admires Eddie’s perky ass, softly laughing at it bouncing. Eddie jumps back on the bed, both of his hands cupping her jaw as he pulls her into a kiss. Y/n hand cradles the back of Eddie’s head, closing her eyes and leaning into him. “I think I might have a condom.” Eddie softly laughs on her lips, pulling her body closer into his.

“I don’t have any. I didn’t think this was how the trip would go.” Her hands slide over his arms, threading their fingers together and placing pecks over his lips. “One” kiss “second” kiss “I’ve gotta grab one I’ll be right back.” He laughs on her lips, giving her hands one last squeeze before grabbing his wallet and pulling out an old condom he’s had in there for a while.

“It’ll do the trick, right?” Y/n softly laughs, nodding. “Yeah, as long as there’s no holes in it.”

Eddie shrugs, looking at the gold packet. “Should work.”

“Lay back.” Eddie mumbles, getting serious again as he tears open the packet with his teeth, rolling the condom onto his cock. “You ready?” He crawls between her legs, his thumb rubbing her clit. She nods, pulling home closer. He knees the bed, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside of her.

She gasps, gripping at his arm. “You okay, honey?” Eddie trails kisses over her neck, taking his time to place delicate kisses on her skin. “I’ve never been better.” He pulls out, starting to slowly thrust in and out of her while his mouth gravitates to one of her nipples.

He sucks at her nipples, feeling it grow hard in his mouth. He circles his tongue around the sensitive bud, gently biting at it. Her back arches into him, throwing her legs around his hips and pulling him into her again. “Faster baby, please.” Her hand rests on the back of his head again, moaning at the electric feeling pulsing through her body.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Eddie’s pants, completely breathless as he slides in and out of her, making a complete mess of the now crumpled sheets. Y/n feels her wetness drip down, surely making a wet mess of the fabric under her, but she couldn’t care less.

She didn’t expect the fucking whines that come out of his mouth. Whining like the one thing he’s never wanted has been ripped from his hands, laced with want and desire. She squeezes around him the moment the noise hits her ears, feeling like she could already cum around him.

He whines again, shoving his face against her neck. His hips speed up, snapping quick and deep. Eddie hits her G spot, making her back arch. He hums, letting out a little breath. She’d spend the rest of her life making him feel good as long as he keeps making these noises.

She doesn’t get around much, but she’s never had someone be so delicate with her but still make her feel so good. Everything about him is intoxicating, the slight drag of his teeth against her lip when he kisses her, the way his head falls back when he feels really good, the way his thick cock stretches her out perfectly and fills her up.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus H Christ, I fucking love your pussy.” He's obviously close to cumming as he starts rambling on, his balls growing heavy as he gets closer and closer. “I need you to cum first, sweetheart.” His hand slips between them, rubbing her clit. Y/n’s thighs twitch as the feeling, feeling more lightheaded as she gets closer and closer.

She squeezes tight around him, never wanting it to end as his cock slides in and out of her dripping pussy, Eddie all over her. “I’m about to cum, Eddie.” It takes him all but one second after her words for Eddie to bust inside of her, moaning loud. His hand never slips from the spot where he rubs her cunt, needing her to cum more than he’s ever needed anything before. “C’mon honey. Cum for Eddie, please. I know you want to.” She whimpers, closing her eyes as he works her closer and closer.

“Eddie” she gasps, calling out his name while she cums, clenching around his dick while her eyes squeeze shut.

She blinks her eyes open, trying to catch her breath. She watches Eddie sink down between her thighs again, her eyes widening. “Holy shit” she whispers, feeling his tongue dart out to clean her messy pussy up.

He raises with a smile, pulling her into a kiss before he flops down next to her. “We’ve got to find spare sheets.” Y/n laughs, laying her head on Eddie’s chest. He rubs her back, kissing her forehead.

Edie glances around, suddenly feeling fidgety. “I…” he shuts himself down, not sure where to start. “Yeah?” Y/n looks up, placing a kiss to his bare chest. She laces their fingers together with the hand that wasn't softly scratching her back. “I know I’m not the… coolest guy ever, and I’ve still got some growing up to do… but I think I can be something good for you maybe… if that’s what you want.”

A smile breaks across Y/n's face, “I think so too, Eddie. I didn’t expect this trip to go this way… but maybe now you won’t have to lie to your bandmates about a girlfriend?” Eddie laughs, wrapping one of his legs around hers. “I think, maybe no more lies?”

“Yeah?” Y/n asks, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand.

“Yeah.”

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“We should probably get up.” Y/n mumbles, Eddie half asleep as he breathes slowly with his head back against a pillow. “I can’t.” He whispers, “I’m too sleepy.” Y/n shakes her head, drawing circles on his chest. “We’ve just been laying on the wet sheets for almost an hour.” Eddie shrugs, finally opening his eyes.

“C’mon, I need to shower.” She jumps up and Eddie follows her, walking behind her as she opens the bathroom door, turning the shower on.

She looks in the mirror, trying to wipe the messy mascara that has leaked under her eyes. While she’s occupied Eddie leans against the wall, admiring her messy state. Completely bare, bed head and smeared makeup. “You’re really beautiful.” He’s just thinking out loud, really. Not fully aware of his thoughts just flowing out. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Y/n stands there completely stunned, not sure what to say.

“No one ever said that to me.” She awkwardly laughs, feeling embarrassed by his sweet words.

“Really? That’s hard to believe.” He takes a step forward, brushing her hair out of her face. “Can I tell you something?” She nods. “I told the guys that I was dating you before I even asked you. You were the one I told them about all along.”

Y/n’s mouth falls open, at a loss for words. “It’s kind of creepy, huh?” He laughs, shaking his head at how unbelievably dumb he can be sometimes. “I just saw you at the bar and you were so sweet and I just… I got a little crush on you and I really didn’t think it’d go anywhere.”

She sighs, “Maybe a little creepy before, but not now that everything works out.” Eddie scoffs, feeling playful again. “Creepy huh. Sure you want to be with me?” Y/n hums, tapping her chin. “I’ll give it a good two months before I get a restraining order.”

Eddie's jaw dramatically drops, grabbing her and yanking her over to the shower with him. “And I thought it would be kind of endearing!”

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“Wake up, baby.” Y/n whispers, pressing kisses to Eddie’s cheeks to wake him up.

Today was the last day of the trip, and Y/n was kind of relieved. It was always nice to get a break and go away, especially with how this trip panned out for her- but it all felt like a dream and she wanted to get back to reality to make sure it was all as good as it seems.

Eddie groans, yelling while he stretches. He tosses the other way, trying to get away from her so he can sleep some more. “Eddie,” she laughs. “You’ve got to wake up. We gotta be out of here by one and I already let you sleep in until ten.”

Eddie groans again, sitting up with a grumpy look on his face as he rubs his eyes hard to force himself to wake up. He shouldn’t have put off packing last night, but he got a little preoccupied.

He turns to Y/n a deep from turning his whole face down. Suddenly a smile flickers onto his mouth, “I forgot you’re naked.” He rubs his hands together like he has an evil thought. Y/n steps out of bed, throwing on Eddie’s corroded coffin shirt and pulling her panties up. “No time for this. We’ve got to get packing.” Eddie flops back on the bed, sitting there for a beat until he throws himself out, standing up and stretching out with a big yawn.

“Put something on to cover your ass and get to packing.”

Eddie snaps his head to her, offended. “You love it!”

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Somehow, everyone packed all their things up and got them shoved in Eddie’s van with ten minutes to spare. Since Eddie drove the whole way up to the cabin, Gareth agreed to drive the last hour so Eddie could have a little break.

“Get your ass in there.” Eddie jokes, smacking Y/n’s ass as she crawls into the van. She rolls her eyes, smacking his hand away before he closes the door for her. “Now you can’t fall asleep. I need twenty four seven entertainment to keep me driving.” She laughs, leaning her head back against the seat.

“Were you guys in a fight at the start of the trip? You seemed pissed at each other.” Eddie and Y/n look at each other with knowing grins on their faces. “Something like that.” Y/n mumbles before Eddie starts up the van for the ride home.

This drive doesn’t nearly seem as long as the first time around. Maybe that’s because she and Eddie get to cuddle up in the back, and Eddie is definitely relieved to not drive the whole way.

Y/n plays in Eddie’s hair, softly massaging his scalp. “You’re putting me to sleep.” Eddie says with a sleepy smile, his eyes closed while he enjoys the light massage. His head rests in Y/n’s lap, deciding he needed a relaxing nap.

“Yeah, well your nap won’t be too long. We’ll be home in about twenty minutes.” He groans, shoving his face in her thigh. “Just keep playing with my hair.” She laughs, “I will”

It’s not long before they are back in Hawkins, sad the trip is officially over, but excited to be back home and in a more calm climate instead of there being a constant blizzard outside.

Gareth dropped himself off and the others quickly trickled out, leaving just Eddie and Y/n. “I don’t want to leave you.” Eddie confesses, lifting their tangled hands and pressing kisses to each of her knuckles. “Maybe you don’t have to.” Eddie takes his eyes off the road for a second, glancing back at her. “Hm?”

“Maybe just unpack at my place. Stay with me for a while.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll just stay with you.” He squeezes back, pulling up to her apartment building.

“Let’s get in there. I want to make up for all that lost time on the trip when we weren't together.”

A/N: this is my first fic I’ve ever posted on here:)))! This is kind of big for me, sorry if there is typos I tried my best to check!!! I’ll fix the spacing because tbh it’s annoying me! I hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts!

Tagging people who asked or was interested! :D - @ali-r3n @celestair @rustboxstarr @the-fairy-anon @myotherlifeiswattpad

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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months

Text

foolishness and all

summary: your boyfriend puts your love to the test when his heart is set on a certain unsightly purchase.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: jar jar binks. not edited, i was laughing too hard.

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: this is the product of a very insane conversation that occurred in the middle of the night last night with @emmaisgonnacry, @lokis-army-77, and @emma-munson. forever sad we can't get the jar jar watch </3 (but at least emma got the darth maul one!) ((thank you for making me laugh until i cried last night, friends.))

“If you buy that thing, I’m breaking up with you.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m getting the watch.”

“And I’m getting a new boyfriend.”

You glare at your boyfriend for several beats of tense silence, narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do anything to change his mind. His heart is already set – there’s no stopping what’s about to happen.

“Edward Munson,” you stress, hand shooting out to hold his wrist, but he’s already whipping it out of your reach, “That thing is hideous. We’re shopping for a nice watch for Steve’s wedding, not that.”

“This thing has a name, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles toothily, tilting his head tauntingly at you, “And I think it fits the theme perfectly.”

“In what fucking world?”

You're whispering harshly now, trying to keep from causing a commotion in the middle of the store and garnering any more unwanted attention. The workers had given you strange enough looks when Eddie had first laid eyes on his prize, his little yelp of excitement seemingly startling them.

The less people who witnessed the atrocity on Eddie’s wrist currently, the better.

Eddie goes against that wish entirely, holding his wrist high in the air for the entire mall to see at this point, “In my world. He did say it was meant to be open for interpretation-”

“Not like this.”

“And my interpretation is buying this absolutely priceless Jar-Jar Binks watch.”

The thing looks down at you, almost as if it’s laughing at you just as Eddie was right now.

Part of you wonders if it’s all a bit – something Eddie noticed set you off, and he’s now making it into an entire catastrophic situation solely for his own enjoyment at your irritation. But part of you also knows that even if it is a bit, Eddie Munson will commit wholeheartedly to it.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or not. He’ll be leaving this store as the owner of that watch, and the thought mortifies you.

“Please,” you finally resort to begging, feeling a bit childish as you give a pitiful hop to reach his wrist. It’s useless. He only stretches higher, shirt riding up to expose that strip of pale skin beneath the fabric. Your eyes catch on it momentarily, but you force yourself to not get distracted, “Eddie, baby-”

“Nuh uh,” he’s quick to shake his head, taking a full step back from you, “Nope. That baby shit isn’t working on me this time. I’m buying it. End of discussion.”

Fine. The sweet talk route didn’t work. That’s fine.

You had more than one weapon in the arsenal.

Before he can even think to step any further away, you reach out and hook your finger through one of his belt loops, giving a tug that further exposes the band of his boxers all while forcing him closer to you.

You’re back on your tip-toes, no longer reaching for the watch, but to let your lips barely graze over his as your whispers, “What if I ask you not to very, very nicely?”

That has him faltering. Complete hesitation as he takes a deep breath and visible gulp, arm beginning to drop ever so slightly.

“I would… I’d…” he trails off, clearly losing focus as your lips stay hovering just out of touch, “I’d probably… I-”

“Probably not buy it – right, handsome?”

And just as quickly as he’d fallen victim to the game you’d started playing, he’s pulled from it.

He leans back as far as he can with your finger still clinging to his pants, scrunching up his nose, “I see what you’re doing. Not fucking fair. It’s only thirteen dollars, anyway. I bet if Steve was here right now, he’d tell me to get it.”

“He wouldn’t!” you whisper-yell, giving up and pulling back as well, “It’s his wedding, Eddie. He told us to get something nice to fit in with the black tie dress code,” you can see him ready the argument of interpretation once more, and nip it in the bud, “No amount of interpretation can ever qualify the head of Jar-Jar Binks turned into a watch as something that fits into black tie attire.”

He’s not convinced. Not of the point you’re trying to make – no, you know he agrees with you and is just being a little shit at this point – but of not buying the watch.

“What if I just bought it?” he barters, “Maybe I don’t wear it to the weddin-”

“There’s no maybes about it. You can’t wear it to the wedding. You’re one of the groomsmen.”

He lifts his other hand just as the one adorning the eyesore finally drops to be eye level once more, “Fine! Fine. I won’t wear it to the wedding, but I’m still getting it.”

It’s a compromise. Or as close to a compromise as you and Eddie were going to get to right now.

With his wrist finally lowered, you can finally get a proper look at the thing. It’s Jar-Jar’s head with a band to mimic his skin, no clock in sight until it’s flipped open. The inside might be even worse though. Vivid font curling to spell out Jar-Jar, a light orange background with darker swirls, and the world’s smallest sliver of a screen to display the digital time.

It absolutely blows your mind that anyone thought it was a good marketing idea. But then again, people like your boyfriend exist. He was the intended audience, not you.

“It’s not even that cool,” you weakly still try to fight the losing battle, gingerly grabbing for the wrist this time with your free hand. Your finger hasn’t left Eddie’s belt loop, now resting comfortably in it, just growing fond of the closeness rather than weaponizing it against him.

And maybe as a way of keeping him from running up to the counter to complete the purchase. Maybe.

“It’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he proudly proclaims, right there in the middle of the Radio Shack, never having looked more satisfied with himself, “It can just be a conversational piece. I promise, I won’t break out the secretly evil little shit-”

“What?”

“Unless the occasion actually calls for it.”

“I’m sorry, can we go back to where you just called Jar-Jar secretly evil?” you ask, more perplexed than concerned at this point.

He was getting it. You were hating it. You had bigger wars to win with the man before you at a later date, surely.

His grin makes you regret asking, “Oh, you haven’t heard the theory about Jar-Jar being a Sith lord, have you?”

Your finger slips from his jeans, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head.

“Go buy that thing. I’m waiting in the car.”

“Wait, babe, no!”

“Nope. I’m not listening to this.”

You turn from Eddie to walk away, making sure he can’t see the corners of your mouth twitching with a smile you’re so desperately fighting, but it’s no use when he grabs onto your elbow to spin you back around.

“Eddie, I’m not-”

You’re interrupted with his lips on yours, an unexpectedly genuine kiss ensuing. The kind that reminds you why you’d ever deal with someone who wants a Jar-Jar Binks watch, the kind that reminds you why the occasional embarrassment Eddie purposefully puts you through in public is all worth it.

All the butterflies, all the sweetness, all the tenderness. The way his thumb traces over your skin as his hand stays wrapped around your elbow, the way his other hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You can still taste whatever sour candy he’d bought moments before walking into the store all over his tongue and lips, hiding his last cigarette from hours ago.

It’s a good enough kiss to forget the entire interaction that had just occurred.

When he pulls away, you’re a little breathless, all fluttering eyes glazed over as you look up at him, “What was that for?”

His smile could melt your entire existence. Turn you right into a puddle of all the love you struggle to contain, just for him.

“Just because,” he shrugs, but then he continues on, “And for putting up with me. Thank you for that.”

“I don’t put up with you,” you say immediately, and mean it.

Even when he’s being insufferable. Even when he’s still wearing the goddamn Jar-Jar Binks watch. You don’t put up with him – you love him. Foolishness and all.

Your finger returns to his belt loop, and this time, you tug him in for another kiss. Something short and sweet, something just because.

“You know,” he mumbles against your lips, arm wrapping around you so you can’t leave him just yet, “They have a Darth Maul one, too…”

Your hand comes up between the two of you, only a slight struggle, just for you to smack him in the center of his chest, “You can only have one, Munson.”

“We could match!”

“I am not wearing that thing.”

He throws his head back and cackles, a certain glee only born of being with the one you feel safest with flooding his features. All those wrinkles in the corners of his crinkled eyes, the stretch of his lips that bring on the appearance of dimples you could bury yourself in if given the chance. A boy made up of stardust and felicity. Your boy made up of every good thing that could have ever existed in this lifetime.

You’d rather bicker over the useless things with him a hundred times over than ever live a life without him.

“It’s fine,” he finally sighs dramatically, “I’ll just wear the Jar-Jar Binks watch to our wedding one day.”

Our wedding one day.

Your heart just about explodes, and the only thing you can do to not choke up is smack him even harder.

Our wedding.

It has a nice ring to it.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you tell him instead.

There’ll be plenty of other moments to talk about that. Now, when he still wears the ugliest watch you’ve ever laid eyes on, is not the time.

“Gotta catch me first,” he teases as he slowly backs away, a twinkle in his eyes that makes you question if he knows how you’d secretly felt about that joke. That makes you question if he and Steve Harrington had really only been shopping for Steve’s rings for the last year.

He doesn’t even run to the counter, knowing that you won’t be chasing him. You’re content to stay back and wait. You’ll always wait on him, really.

Even if it meant waiting for the day he wore that goddamn watch on your wedding day, because at the end of it all, you’d probably let him. You’d even wear the Darth Maul watch to match if he insisted.

You’d let him wear whatever he wants, and you’d wear whatever he insists upon, because at the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter – it’d be enough to simply marry the dork that just tripped on his way up on the counter while giggling over a watch on his wrist, and know that he’s yours, forever.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo @findmeincorneliastreet

join my taglist!

#holy fucking shit i just love eddie munson so much #i'm actually eddie in this. i want the watch.#ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #joking one shots like this with him always end with me turning to mush at the end truly #it just reminds me why i love him #and why i love fandom at times #sorry to make you all have to endure the jar jar binks watch- actually im not sorry i WANT THE WATCH #also forever sad because i couldn't get the original photo i wanted of eddie to match. i wanted the deranged :D photo #just know that's the face he's making this entire one shot

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6gumi · 5 months

Text

scandalous!

synopsis ﹒bllk men reassuring you that all those useless false scandals and fake news online are false ! ( in a rather . . peculiar way than normal reassurance . . <3 )

pairings﹒ michael kaiser, itoshi sae, oliver aiku x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited ( mistakes might be present ) 、 blowie ( oliver aiku ) 、dirty talk 、riding ( michael kaiser ) 、small titplay ( itoshi sae ) 、mentions of cheating but it doesn’t acc happen, promise ! 、v4ginal fingering ( itoshi sae ) 、use of feminine terms ( girl, gf (?) etc) 、 more tba !

note ﹒hello every1 ! ! :,3 wrote this while working on my art project lol ! ! ! first bllk work i believe ? ? i hope there isn’t too many mistakes in this one i’m very very sleepy trying 2 make my art look nice . . :,3 | reblogs r highly appreciated, feel free 2 send me an ask ! — millie ♡

୨୧ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

“come on, mein liebling . . is that really what you’re worried about? i assure you . . these pathetic scandals aren’t true anyways.” with a firm grasp on your hip, he guided you on his cock with such elegance and ease, wanting to fuck all worrying emotions lingering beneath that pretty face of yours. “speak to me, liebling. do you seriously believe all of those rumours going around about me? about us?” his voice was addictive . . your head was completely empty . . filled with nothing but his damn voice. even so, these stupid rumours and scandals . . . as reassuring as he is, you can’t help but think maybe there’s some truth behind those rumours.

sweat glistened his well-fit body and yours, mingling the intoxicating fragrances within the air. squeezing your breasts in his hands with a lick of his lips, his fingers grazed down your spine, grunting at his own sharp and desperate thrusts. you rode him with the same amount of desperation and arousal he had. your passion filled him with both satisfaction and hope . . hope that you believed you were his only, utterly dependent and devoted to you. the blonde’s fingers dug into your soft flesh as every movement brought you both closer into harmony, each groan echoed against the walls of your shared bedroom. “that’s it . . .” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breathing ragged from exertion. "ride me hard, beautiful.”

your face contorted in pleasure as you slammed yourself down against his cock, feeling the tip kiss your sweet-spots as you struggle to speak up, the mere feeling of his cock was enough to send you to heaven itself ! just then, your mouth opened to speak. “i—it’s not impossible,” you murmured, “what if you’re lying to me . .” “oh baby . . . do you really think i’m not telling the truth?” kaiser’s face grew serious, snapping his hips upwards against your pussy. he relished the feel of your warm body against his, wanting to fuck those precious thoughts out of you. he was telling the truth, those stupid articles . . were only trying to ruin his image. his large hands gripped your hips tighter, his nails practically digging into your skin with a sense of desperation . . wanting to prove himself to you.

“mein liebling . . . seriously. i’m telling the truth. i’m telling the truth when i say this pussy is mine and mine only. and i’m definitely telling the truth when i say this cock is yours to fuck yourself dumb on.”

“ . . you, mein blume . . . have nothing to worry about. my cock belongs to you.”

୨୧ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

“i mean it, [name].” sae whispered against your ear, sending streams of electricity through your spine. his renewed determination to reassure you became his goal for the day, pressing his nose against your neck again, inhaling the scent of your fragrance. he had you seated on his lap, his hardness pressing close against your ass . . . trying his best to hold it in when the time comes. his fingers darted out again, swirling around the sensitive nub. “y—you don’t mean it . .” you protested, which only made things more harder for sae. he hated when you doubt his words, his movements growing more confident and skilled with each passing moment . . mind focused solely on pleasing his pretty girlfriend who was all worried about these articles that weren’t even true.

“i do mean it.” your boyfriend’s heart pounded in his chest, free hand reaching out to touch your breasts. his fingers brushed against your nipples, making them harder than steel. "hm. what can i do to make you believe me?” he grips your hips, pulling you towards him, erection straining against his shorts as he struggled the urges to fuck himself balls deep into your pussy. “those articles aren’t always true, angel-face. i mean it. i’m telling the truth, okay?”

grinding his cock against your lower back, he pushed another finger inside. your walls trembled, gripping his digits with pure vigour, you could almost feel his cock throb ! “mmh.. but the article . . .” your whimpers were music to his ears, pleasure dancing across your face, replacing the looks of uncertainty and concern. an absurd wave of protectiveness washed over sae then— the idea that these people were making up false and uncouth claims and lies filled his heart with sick dissatisfaction. their declaration of his infidelity was another layer to his coldness, he hated all of them, he wanted you and you only . . . was that not obvious ?

“i know, angel, but they’re not true.” he whispered huskily, holding your heavy breasts steady. “fuck . . . you always say such pretty things," he murmured against their your damp hair, fingers lightly grazing down your labia as he thrusted them back in, wanting to make you cum and lose your mind completely. “please, you know those articles are just bullcrap trying to put our relationship at risk. but i’m not letting it happen.” there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he pulled out from within you, leaving behind an echo of fullness in your core.

“you know i love you, angel-face. is that in your head yet? or do i have to fuck it into you?”

୨୧ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

“oh fuck . . baby, you’re suckin’ me good.” oliver bit back a grunt, eyes drifting shut. he was supposed to be reassuring your pretty little head that he only had eyes for you, but it feels too fucking good. too tempting. he hoped and prayed you wouldn’t blame him later for wanting your mouth. the way your wet heat surrounds him sends him in a frenzy . . . your tongue swirling and dancing around was enough to drive him absolutely insane, he wanted to push your head down further onto his dick, thrust inside and give you all of him . . show you just how truthful he was being at this moment. “m—mmf . . listen baby, all those articles are just tryna’ ruin people’s images of me, of us. they ain’t real and will never be, kay?”

the sensation of your soft mouth enveloping him sends electricity straight to his body, wanting more of your mouth. desire raced through his veins, drowning out rational thought. your warm breath, soft moans . . he can hear all, feel every stroke of your tongue. your small sobs, and even those pretty tears. ohh . . . those tears. he loves them. gripping the armrest, fighting to maintain control. your precious tears streaming down your face . . . it only aroused him further, his dick twitching in your mouth.

you sniffled, trying your best to accommodate his size. “baby, i’m really telling the truth. all those cheating rumours . . . those pictures are photoshopped— ah fuck . . baby you gotta’ believe me.” oliver groaned loudly, mouth curling into a satisfied yet concerned smile as he watched his dick go in and out of your lips, his hips slowly moving on their own as he slammed himself against you, forcing you to take more of his cock. “i’m tellin’ ya, baby doll,” his voice rasped hoarsely in the air, swallowing a lump in his throat. “does my cock being in ya not prove anythin’? you’re the only one i imagine suckin’ me off so perfectly like this . .”

oliver couldn’t help but grin cheekily at the slurping he heard from you, “damn, you’re takin’ it all, baby. always knew ya were my girl . . never thought i’d end up with such a pretty girl like you . . don’t believe those dumb rumours, kay?” a low groan escaped your beloved boyfriend, hands running through your hair tenderly, guiding your movements until he could take it no longer. “just like that, darlin'. make me yours, again and again."

“can’t wait to be inside ya tonight. provin’ to you that i only want my dick to be inside this pussy.”

#millie’s writings ✔︎#kaiser . . sae n oliver >< i luv them so muchies #bllk talk w/ millie :3 #blue lock #bllk #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk x reader #sae x reader #bllk x you #kaiser smut #oliver aiku x reader #oliver smut #sae x you #sae smut #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you

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classyrbf · 7 months

Text

THE MAN I USED TO KNOW! — GETO SUGURU

SYNOPSIS...you’ve noticed suguru has changed, his attitude, his demeanor, he isn’t the same anymore. his coldness towards you won’t change and it breaks your heart

INFO...geto x fem!reader, angst (no seriously), arguments, yelling, break up, cheating, crying, cursing, no comfort, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

The metal scraped against the ceramic plate as Geto played around with the food you had made for him. His face stoic as he sits there and stares at it. Your eyes flicker up to his fingers, taking a bite of your food. He hasn’t said a word to you since he’s walked through the door, completely ignoring your presence and advances. He didn’t even respond when you said hi.

He’s been acting cold towards you for months know, not responding to your texts, coming home late, always tired, shrugging you off when you try and show him affection. You didn’t want to overthink it, knowing that he does go through phases where he’d rather be by himself. But this, this was different. Usually he’d talk to you, explain what he’s feeling, and now he can’t even do that. He treats you like a stranger, like you’re a roommate rather than his girlfriend. As you sat there in your bed late at night, staring at his sleeping figure, you began to wonder if your once loving boyfriend was cheating on you.

The thought of it broke your heart in two, made you sick to your stomach and put an empty feeling in your chest. You’d walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind you to cry, hoping you don’t wake him up. The man who was sitting across from you right now wasn’t the man you fell in love with.

“Not hungry?” You broke the silence, placing your fork down on the plate.

“No,” he bluntly answered, tossing his fork down. A long sigh left his lips, pushing the plate of food away from him. “I already ate.”

“At work?” You asked, puzzled. He didn’t come home until nine at night, six hours after he was supposed to leave work.

“Yep,” he plainly replied.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, looking back down at your plate as Geto sat there, arms folded across his chest. You weren’t sure what to say to him anymore. Anytime you tried sparking up a conversation he never showed interest, completely shutting you down. He was pushing you to your breaking point, leaving you nothing left but to lash out on him about his behavior towards you.

“You really shouldn’t have waited up for me.” Yet another sigh leaves his lips, like he was annoyed with the fact you were present in his life. Your brows furrowed, his words not sitting right with you. He’s made you feel useless, unwanted, like you were nothing but a placeholder in his life.

“Well, I wanted to. We never spend time together anymore.” You grab your cup, taking a sip of your water in hopes to hide the shakiness in your voice.

“We do,” he quickly said.

“We don’t.” You avert your gaze, unable to look at him.

“What is your problem?” He asks, voice sharp.

You found it in yourself to meet his gaze, taken by surprise from his question. You scoffed, almost laughing in his face. “What is wrong with me?” You ask.

“Yeah!” He shrugs his shoulders.

“What is wrong with you, Suguru? You come home and ignore me, can’t even find it within yourself to say hi. You come home late every single night, walking right past me like you have something to hide. You don’t even eat the food I cook for you anymore even if it’s your favorite! You can’t even hold a conversation with me! And we haven’t even said I love you to each other in I don’t know how long!” You’ve reached your breaking point, all the months of holding everything back now unleashing.

“Because I am too tired! What don’t you understand?!” He yells, a scowl on his face.

“Too tired?! Too tired! You stay six hours later than you need to every fucking day doing who knows what! That’s your own fault! I’m your girlfriend, Suguru, sorry that I have to remind you! I’m not some damn roommate of yours that helps pay the bills! You’ve been treating me like some stranger for the last few months!” You quickly respond, tears brimming your eyes. You stand up from your seat at the table, letting out shaky breath as you turn to look away from him. The room becomes silent. All that could be heard were your broken sobs. Suguru looks at you, chest heaving up and down as he tries to control his breathing.

“It’s hurts,” you whimper, sniffling. “I love you so much and I don’t even think you feel the same way anymore.” You turn to look at him. “What happened to the man I used to know?” A frown forms on your face as you try so hard to hold back your tears. “What are we?”

He stares at you for an unreasonably long time, eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t know,” he answers after what feels like hours. His words make you sob even harder, embarrassed that it’s come to this.

“Are you seeing someone else?” You have your back turned towards him, heart beating rapidly in your chest. It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest as you wait for him to answer you. You can’t bear to look into his empty eyes, knowing that the love he had for you is no longer there. He’s an empty man. Anxiously, you bite on your nails, leg bouncing up and down. Your dinner was cold, and so was the room. Everything seemed cold.

“Yes.” He almost sounds ashamed when he answers. Tears pour down your face upon hearing that singular word. You knew it all along. Suguru is still sitting there, holding his head in his hands before dragging them down his face.

The room is spinning and your chest hurts. You feel nauseous, the food you just ate threatening to come back up. Though your knees are weak, you find the strength to walk towards your shared bedroom, tears blurring your vision as you pull your suitcase from the closet, tossing whatever clothes you had in, not bothering to fold them. Anger flows through you, remembering all the times you desperately tried to fight for his affection and love, all the times when you cried to yourself as you sat alone with your thoughts. He didn’t care.

You hear footsteps approach from behind you as you angrily rip your clothes off of the hanger and from the drawers, throwing them to the floor. You can’t stop crying no matter how hard you try. He doesn’t deserve your tears. “I’m sorry.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, slowly turning to look at him. “Now you’re sorry?!” You inch your way towards his brooding figure. “Why did you even stay?! Did you get enjoyment from me trying to get your attention, huh? You’re a fucking joke.” You stare up at him with hatred, venom lining your tone. “Fuck you!” You push him causing him to stumble backwards. “I hate you!” Your voice cracks as more tears well up in your eyes. “I really hate you!”

“I know.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

You shake your head at him, returning back to packing your things. Suguru doesn’t know what he expected, he can’t seem to find an explanation for why he did what he did. You were perfect, loving, beautiful, caring, and he took all that away from you in a span of five minutes. He took it away from you his hands touched that other woman. He knew you’d catch on, you weren’t stupid. He felt guilty, but couldn’t stop himself from indulging in the attention of others—the woman.

“Who is it?” You ask, sitting on the floor as you hold your crumpled up shirt in your hand. As much as it would hurt to know, you needed some type of closure.

“I met her the night we had that argument.” He bit the inside of his cheek. It was a petty argument the two of you had, something about him leaving his clothes all over the floor. It escalated into a full blown fight, yelling at each other about that things that had zero correlation with what you first started fighting about in the first place. Hurtful things were said and he left to blow off some steam, finding himself at a club while you were at home texting and calling him, wondering where he was. That’s where he met her. Declining your calls while he was entertaining another woman. That entertainment shortly turned into him ending up at her place, their clothes discarded on the floor and his lips on hers, sweaty bodies pressed against each other.

After she fell asleep, he checked his phone to see you had texted him over ten times and called him over five, concerned for his safety. When he came back home, he found you sleeping on the couch, no blanket, no pillow. You fell asleep while waiting for him. It spiraled down from there.

A sob raked through your body as you remembered the argument he was talking about. “You were fucking her while I was here…waiting for you to come back home.” You felt sick, hands shaking as the thought formed an image in your head. “I can’t even look at you. I don’t know who you are anymore,” you said with disgust. Zipping up your suitcase, you stood to your feet and bumped shoulders with Suguru as you walked towards the front door to grab your coat and put on your shoes.

You left the house key on the small stand by the door before walking out, slamming the door shut behind you. The house stood silent, Suguru standing in the hallway as he stared at the front door. Remnants of your perfume filled the air, the dinner you had made still left on the two plates, the gifts he had got you were left behind, your side of the bed still messy from where you slept this morning, your towel still hanging in the bathroom along with your shampoo and conditioner.

He understands how much of a shitty person he is. He knows that he deserves a life without you as he casted you aside. As to why he stayed? Suguru was unsure of that himself. He questioned it multiple times when he heard you crying in the bathrooms all those nights. He hurt you deeply. Maybe he was waiting for the moment you broke up with him, afraid of doing it himself for whatever reason. He feels a sort of emptiness as well now, standing as silence consumed him. He was unsure of how to feel or react. Is he broken in a way? Is that why he did what he did?

His phone vibrating in his pocket pulled him away from his thoughts. He slowly pulls it out, staring at the name on the screen. It was her. He sucked in a breath, thumb hovering over the screen.

He declined the call.

Part 2

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tawfu · 1 year

Text

Thinking about Sugar daddy!Pantalone, who escorts you by the arm in public, flashing his close-eyed smile as he shows off the fact that you chose him to the world. Is there a greater honor than that?

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who hires one of his underlings to hack into your phone just so that he can search through your texts for anything you might possibly want that you’re hesitant to ask for. Somehow, you always find yourself spoiled with everything you can think of, and in turn, you throw him a gentle smile as you jokingly ask if he can read your mind. God, that smile of yours is like a drug to him.

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who travels with you all around the world, eagerly taking you to the most luxurious spots and making sure that you don’t have to move a single finger, no matter the cost. Though he’s got plenty of rats by his feet, ready to serve him, you’ve got him under yours.

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who doesn’t hesitate to take out anyone who dares to look your way for a moment too long. Anyone who has the audacity to offer you help, whether it’s one of his servants suggesting to put your jacket on, or a strange man opening a door for you in public, is met with a death glare that later, when you, the deity beside him isn’t there to witness it, leads to their demise.

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who always offers to take care of you. Arrived home after a night out? You mustn’t waste those beautiful hands on something as miniscule and pathetic as changing. Your jacket’s already on the hanger, and he’s on his knees, slowly removing your expensive shoes. He takes a moment to admire the sight in front of him, thinking about all the times he’s been in this exact spot before.

Like when he’d look up at you, just like this, with pleading eyes, begging for you to step on his cock. It has no use, after all. He’ll give you anything you want, as long as you bless him with that disdainful look on your face when you watch how drools and squirms on the floor, trying to gain control over the way his hips jump at the feeling of your foot rubbing him.

Or when you actually allow him to cum from the stimulation, and he knows that the only place to do so is on your shoes, for the sole purpose of buying you new ones, but more than that, so he can lick them clean afterwards, like your own personal dog.

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who feels like he’s too cocky for his own good, and needs you to put him down where he belongs. Make him scrape his knees on the floor while you tug at the leash in your hand, one that’s attached to a beautiful silver collar with your initials carved on it, as you force him to crawl to you with his credit card in his mouth. Promise that you’ll only allow him to spend his money on you if he repeats that he’s nothing but a wallet to you, an utterly useless pet whose only purpose is to serve you in every way possible.

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who always gets bratty when his ass is stuffed, whether it be by a plug or your cock. He’ll purposefully ignore your commands, talk back and degrade you, resist when you attempt to restrain him, all in hopes that you’ll punish him and fulfill his masochistic desires.

Throw him on the bed, pound into him, gag him with your fingers, spank him with a paddle, torture his cock, gods, just please do whatever you want to him, as long as he’s left in a puddle of cum, drool and tears, unable to think a single coherent thought.

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who loves the strong and powerful image the two of you exude, and the fear in people’s eyes when they recognize him. Little do they know about the ropes hugging his body tightly underneath his clothes, or the vibrating butt plug that’s sitting comfortably inside him, filling him with the anticipation for the moment it’ll turn on. How about the pretty, pink cock cage that serves as a constant reminder of who the true owner of his body is?

Sugar daddy!Pantalone who’s completely and utterly obsessed with you. No money in the world compares to your gaze. His body and soul is nothing if not yours. He would do anything, whether it be betraying his own god, or burning the world away, just to be close to you.

#dom reader #sub genshin #sub pantalone #gn!reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #dom!reader #gn reader #sub character #sub genshin impact #sub!genshin #genshin impact

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 9 months

Text

Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.

Word Count: 5.4 k

Warnings:

The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce.

Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you.

It is enough to drive the man insane.

From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest.

Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire.

“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.”

He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”

Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.

You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.

“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”

You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.

It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you?

Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force.

No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down.

That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied.

Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.

You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough.

He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his.

Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave.

“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.”

The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own.

The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.

“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”

He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.

You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room.

Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?

Only one way to find out…

Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination.

“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”

Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”

You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”

How could he ever deny a request like that from you?

The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.

Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room.

“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”

Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.

Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.

A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass.

Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur.

The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.

“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”

Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.

His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other.

That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling.

“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit.

“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”

Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed.

“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.

A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”

That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip.

“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.”

Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.

Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure.

As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top.

“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”

As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.

Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.

Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.

His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss.

You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.

Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away.

Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end.

Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries.

Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut.

Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs.

Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things.

The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.

Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second.

Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.

Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.

“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”

Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him.

A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts.

You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.

You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.

His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.

“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open.

Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?

Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.

“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex.

The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs.

Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.

Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.

Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simin ghost riley #simon smut #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost smut #ghost smut

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rbfclassy · 3 months

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THE MAN I USED TO KNOW! — GETO SUGURU

SYNOPSIS...you’ve noticed suguru has changed, his attitude, his demeanor, he isn’t the same anymore. his coldness towards you won’t change and it breaks your heart

INFO...geto x fem!reader, angst (no seriously), arguments, yelling, break up, cheating, crying, cursing, no comfort, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

He’s been acting cold towards you for months now, not responding to your texts, coming home late, always tired, shrugging you off when you try and show him affection. You didn’t want to overthink it, knowing that he does go through phases where he’d rather be by himself. But this, this was different. Usually he’d talk to you, explain what he’s feeling, and now he can’t even do that. He treats you like a stranger, like you’re a roommate rather than his girlfriend. As you sat there in your bed late at night, staring at his sleeping figure, you began to wonder if your once loving boyfriend was cheating on you.

“Not hungry?” You broke the silence, placing your fork down on the plate.

“No,” he bluntly answered, tossing his fork down. A long sigh left his lips, pushing the plate of food away from him. “I already ate.”

“At work?” You asked, puzzled. He didn’t come home until nine at night, six hours after he was supposed to leave work.

“Yep,” he plainly replied.

“Well, I wanted to. We never spend time together anymore.” You grab your cup, taking a sip of your water in hopes to hide the shakiness in your voice.

“We do,” he quickly said.

“We don’t.” You avert your gaze, unable to look at him.

“What is your problem?” He asks, voice sharp.

You found it in yourself to meet his gaze, taken by surprise from his question. You scoffed, almost laughing in his face. “What is wrong with me?” You ask.

“Yeah!” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Because I am too tired! What don’t you understand?!” He yells, a scowl on his face.

The room is spinning and your chest hurts. You feel nauseous, the food you just ate threatening to come back up. Though your knees are weak, you find the strength to walk towards your shared bedroom, tears blurring your vision as you pull your suitcase from the closet, tossing whatever clothes you had in it, not bothering to fold them. Anger flows through you, remembering all the times you desperately tried to fight for his affection and love, all the times when you cried to yourself as you sat alone with your thoughts. He didn’t care.

“I know.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

You shake your head at him, returning back to packing your things. Suguru doesn’t know what he expected, he can’t seem to find an explanation for why he did what he did. You were perfect, loving, beautiful, caring, and he took all that away from you in a span of five minutes. He took it away from you his hands touched that other woman. He knew you’d catch on, you weren’t stupid. He felt guilty, but couldn��t stop himself from indulging in the attention of others—the woman.

“Who is it?” You ask, sitting on the floor as you hold your crumpled up shirt in your hand. As much as it would hurt to know, you needed some type of closure.

A sob raked through your body as you remembered the argument he was talking about. “You were fucking her while I was here…waiting for you to come back home. Worried something happened to you.” You felt sick, hands shaking as the thought formed an image in your head. “I can’t even look at you. I don’t know who you are anymore,” you said with disgust. Zipping up your suitcase, you stood to your feet and bumped shoulders with Suguru as you walked towards the front door to grab your coat and put on your shoes.

His phone vibrating in his pocket pulled him away from his thoughts. He slowly pulls it out, staring at the name on the screen. It was her. He sucked in a breath, thumb hovering over the screen.

He declined the call.

repost from my old account

#—☆classyrbf #anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #geto x reader angst #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader angst #jjk angst #geto angst #suguru geto angst #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto angst oneshot #jjk geto #geto suguru

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pastryfication · 3 months

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homework | leclerc sister

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader, arthur leclerc x sister!reader

summary: you’re completely stuck on your homework, and arthur isn’t to much help. luckily, charles comes to your rescue.

warnings: mentions of physics the absolutely worst subject known to date

sitting at the kitchen table, your physics textbook and a notebook, filled with scribbled equations and crossed-out attempts at solving them, open in front of you, you feel like you are ready to cry. the clock on the wall is ticking away, reminding you of how little time you have left before the assignment is due. your older brother, arthur, is slouched in the chair beside you, brows furrowing at the same problem.

“i don’t get it,” you say, frustration and a hint of desperation evident in your voice. “why does physics have to be so complicated?”

arthur shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “i really wish i could help more, but i’m as lost as you are. i haven’t touched this stuff since high school.” he says, sighing at the defeated look on your face. you had called him almost in tears, begging him to help you, but he hadn’t been able to do anything but calm you slightly down. physics was as much his strong suit as it was yours. you really should have called lorenzo instead.

the two of you continue to stare at the problem, hoping that somehow the solution will magically appear. it doesn’t. instead, you feel the pressure mounting even more.

“i just don’t get how i’m so bad at it, arthur.” you sigh leaning your head on the table as you do your best to keep the tears at bay. “i have no problems in math or chemistry. it doesn’t make sense.”

“hey,” he leans forward, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “you’re not bad at it. it’s just a hard assignment. even i can’t solve it.”

you nod your head slightly, pulling yourself together as you sit back up in your seat, but arthur keeps his hand firmly placed on your back, his thump moving up and down in a repetitive, comforting motion.

“let’s try again.” he suggests, attempting to sound hopeful, but you both know that it won’t get any easier just because you try a tenth time.

it only leaves the two of you even more frustrated when you once again have to give up. the new site arthur had opened to find help proves to be as useless as his competence, so you’re just about to suggest giving up and accepting a failed grade when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“hey, are you home?” charles voice calls out from the hallway.

you and arthur exchange a surprised look. charles is rarely home. his demanding career keeps him traveling around the world for most of the year, and even now, when he’s on a break between races, he spends most of his time with his friends and girlfriend, so it’s a rare treat to have him standing in your childhood home.

charles walks into the kitchen where you are sitting, his presence instantly filling the room with a sense of ease and comfort, because your older brother is here. everything will be fine now. he looks at the two of you with a curious smile. “what’s going on here? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

you hesitate for a moment before sinking further down into your seat. “we’re stuck,” you admit, gesturing to the textbook and your chaotic notes. “physics should be banned. it’s ruining my mental health”

charles raises an eyebrow in amusement as he puts away his things and takes a seat across from you, glancing at the problem. “mind if i take a look?”

“be our guest,” arthur replied with a huff, sliding the notebook over to him.

you watch as charles studies the problem, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. despite his career in racing, he always had a knack for understanding complex concepts and problem-solving. you observe as his eyes scan the equations, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration.

“okay, let’s see,” charles begins, picking up a pen. “this part here,” he points to one of your scribbled attempts, “is on the right track, but you need to account for the force in the opposite direction as well. it’s a vector addition problem.”

you lean in closer, trying to follow his explanation. “i did not understand any of that.” you admit.

“okay…” he seems deep in though for a moment before he begins breaking it down step by step, making the complications seem much simpler. you and arthur nod along, starting to see where you went wrong.

“thank you so so much.” you gush in gratitude as you finally apply the correct information to your rapport.

“no problem,” he replies, grinning as your face loses the previous tension. “it’s nice to know that you still need your big brother sometimes.”

he is teasing you, so much is evident from his facial expression, but it’s also clear that there is some hidden sincerity in his words. he used to help the two of you with everything, and although he wouldn’t admit it, it hurts to see arthur taking over the big brother role when he‘s away. he was supposed to always take care of you.

arthur is smiling brightly at charles as he claps him on the back. “you saved us. we’d have been here all night.”

charles laughs, leaning back in his chair. “anytime. but i’m a bit disappointed in your lack of knowledge on this subject, arth.”

arthur gives him an offended look. “we can’t all be unhealthily obsessed with physics.”

as they continue their back and forth banter, you contentedly close your textbook. feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you realize how much you’ve missed having charles around. his ability to jump into any situation and lend a hand is something you’re eternally grateful for.

tonight, he’s not just your older brother or a famous racing star—he’s the hero who saved you from the perils of physics homework.

a hero who’s always ready to save you from anything. always just a call away.

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agaypanic · 4 months

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One More Problem (Rodrick Heffley X Jefferson!Reader Smut)

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Summary: You were a good girl; straight-A student with extracurriculars, nice to your brother, the worst curse word you’d say in public was “damn.” But behind closed doors, your boyfriend Rodrick can turn you into an entirely different kind of girl.

A/N: inspired by a jefferson!reader ask i answered. did i go overboard with this? who knows lol

C/W: corruption kink, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification kink, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!!), degradation kink, praise kink, cockwarming

***

Nobody could really wrap their head around why you and Rodrick were dating. You were different, too different. You were the good girl. Model student, a golden child, practically perfect. Rodrick, on the other hand, was a complete neanderthal who would probably end up dropping or failing out of high school.

You supposed that that was something you liked about Rodrick. He was different from the expectations that you had to live up to. He practically lived on energy drinks, played loud ass rock music wherever he went, and wore eyeliner that was always smudged beyond any kind of definition. When you were with Rodrick, he made you feel alive.

Plus, the sex was amazing.

You sighed for what felt like the thousandth time, staring a hole into the homework that sat on your desk. Rodrick had come over to hang out, mainly because the rest of your family was out of the house, but you wanted to finish your homework before goofing off with him. But for some reason, this math worksheet was kicking your ass.

“Babe, just take a break,” Rodrick said, sitting up on your bed.

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes. “Just one more problem.”

“You said that four problems ago.” Suddenly, Rodrick was standing next to you, looking down on you. “Don’t you want a break?”

With the way you were acting, you should’ve said yes. But instead, you shook your head. What you wanted was completely different.

Rodrick noticed the pleading look in your eyes and had to stop himself from laughing. “Do you want me to help you?” You nodded. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

Any other person would immediately say no. But you knew that Rodrick wasn’t offering to help you with the math.

Rodrick grabbed your wrist, helping you get up. He scooted the chair back a little before sitting down and unbuckling his studded belt. Your mouth watered as you watched your boyfriend pull his half-erect cock out of his jeans and boxers.

“Come on, baby.” He said, one hand stroking himself while the other went under your skirt, cupping your aching pussy through your panties and making you mewl. “Aw, you’re soaking. Needy thing.”

Rodrick moved you to stand in front of him. He tucked the hem of your skirt into the waistband and moved the seat of your underwear to the side before guiding you to sit on his dick. You let out a whiny moan when Rodrick bottomed out, filling you to the brim. You leaned against his chest, trying to adjust to his size while he stroked your hair.

“You’re just useless without my dick in you, huh? Isn’t that right, pretty girl?” He hooked your legs over his spread ones to put your stuffed pussy on full display. Rodrick looked at the sight from over your shoulder. “What a pretty pussy. Look, baby. Look at how my fat dick is stretching your little cunt.”

You shuddered at his words, incredibly aroused by the way he talked to you. If you had told yourself a year ago that not only would you be dating Rodrick, but you’d also love the way he degraded you during sex, she would’ve thought you were fucking crazy.

“Okay, you know the rules.” Rodrick brought you out of your thoughts by grabbing your chin and making you look at the neglected paper you had been working on. “Finish your homework, and you can get fucked like the dirty girl you are. You only have one problem left, right?” You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough for Rodrick. His hands went down to your hips and pulled you even further down on his cock, making you squeal. “I thought you were a good girl.”

“I am.” You whined, gripping his wrist. “I am, I am.”

“Then answer me. You only have one problem left, right?”

“Yes!” Pleased, Rodrick let go of his iron grip on your hips, making you both relieved and disappointed. His hands settled on your inner thighs while you grabbed your pencil and started to read over the problem again.

But he just felt so good. You tried to discreetly grind on him, but a hard slap to your thigh deterred you from any further action.

Rodrick must have sensed that you were still having problems. “I thought my dick was supposed to help you, baby.” He cooed, fingers ghosting over your clit. “But you’re just getting dumber and dumber, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh.” You gripped your pencil as Rodrick pinched your clit, making you jolt.

It felt like a million years before you finally finished the math problem. With every second that passed, you just became more and more needy and cockdrunk. It didn’t help that Rodrick would play with your clit every time you actually started to concentrate.

You set the pencil down on your desk. “Done?” Rodrick asked.

“Uh-huh.”

He looked over your shoulder, smiling when he saw that the paper was completely filled out. He, of course, didn’t know whether or not you were actually correct, but the fact that you finished the problem was its own accomplishment. “Looks like my girl deserves a reward, huh?”

You furiously nodded, and Rodrick grabbed your chin to smash his lips against yours. It was a sloppy battle of tongues and teeth. Not wanting to ruin your work, Rodrick moved the worksheet to the side before standing up, bringing you with him, still impaled on his cock. He broke the kiss and had you bend over the desk, staring out the window that was right in front of you.

He slowly started to pull out, spreading your cheeks so he could see how soaked his dick was in your juices. He stopped when just the tip was in, smirking at the sound of you whining about feeling empty before slamming back into your greedy cunt. Rodrick kept up a brutal pace, balls slapping your clit with every thrust.

Your eyes rolled back as Rodrick grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up so you were arching your back and looking out into the neighbor. “Imagine your family saw you like this.” He grunted in your ear. “What would they think? Seeing their precious daughter being a dirty, cockdrunk whore for me right now.” You whined loudly, incredibly grateful that the house was empty. “If only everyone knew that the golden girl gets dumb from me dicking her down.”

Rodrick reached around to start rubbing at your clit, making your legs tremble. Thank god the desk and Rodrick’s grip on your hair were holding you up. “Roddy!” You whined, screwing your eyes shut. “Roddy, I’m gonna come. Can I come?”

“Beg.” Your boyfriend responded sharply, keeping up his relentless pace.

“Please, please, please. I’ve been such a good girl for you.” You whimpered at the feeling of Rodrick continuously brushing against your G-spot. “I’m your dirty little girl. I wanna come so bad, please!”

“So fucking needy.” Rodrick groaned, speeding up the pace on your clit. “Since you wanna come so bad, do it now. All over my cock.”

The coil in your tummy snapped, and you let out a high-pitched scream at the feeling of your intense release. Your entire body shook as you covered Rodrick’s dick in your cum, which just made it easier for him to piston in and out of you. He fucked you roughly through your high, making you whimper and squirm as he chased his own.

“Fuck, gonna-” Rodrick cut himself off with a groan, spilling into you while his pace stuttered to a stop.

Slowly, he leaned on top of your worn-out body, both of you hissing at the feeling of him going deeper in you. You were quiet for a few minutes, trying to collect yourselves.

When Rodrick recovered, he left a couple kisses on your shoulder. “You okay?”

You looked back at him, a lazy grin overtaking your features. “Never been better.”

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit @screechingsandwichtriumph

#agaypanic #rodrick heffley x reader #doawk rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader smut #doawk x reader

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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months

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Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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astridthevalkyrie · 7 months

Text

the floor between you and xavier is thin. you are beautiful. and xavier is tortured.

cw: afab reader, masturbation, nonconsensual auditory voyeurism 😭, xavier being a pervert

i have a midterm in two hours and i spent the last two hours writing all of this. dammit. inspired by this brilliant post (original poster is @skynapple) thank you for giving me permission to write this lolz

once a habit forms, it is incredibly difficult to break. he knows that. he has known that. xavier has had years and years and years to make habits and to subsequently break them.

those twenty-something years he was a nail biter. the tugging of his hair whenever he was tired for around thirty-two decades. six hundred years strong and he still can’t keep a straight face whenever he smells something his nose doesn’t agree with.

some habits he’s fine with not breaking.

but this one.

oh, he needs to break this one as soon as possible.

and yet, every friday evening he tells himself that this time will be the last time. when friday morning arrives, he wakes up refreshed and confident that it will not happen again. by the time the clock hits 3 pm, he can already feel his palms become clammy; if he was a cartoon he’d think an ironic bead of sweat would form on his temple. and by the time the sun is going down and the rain has soaked his hair completely, xavier is shoving his too practical key into the too practical lock of his apartment door, and the dread in his chest has already settled with the weight of what he knows he’s going to do.

he could leave. he could go.

he doesn’t.

xavier takes his time changing out of his uniform and showering. the water burns even when he sets it at a lower temperature. his entire space feels too hot. sweat is actually building on his forehead now.

it’s been a long week, he thinks, as he rolls onto his bed, opting to wear nothing but boxers (and even that’s useless). he tries to remember all the missions he’s been on since monday, and more importantly all the missions you’ve been on. you’re a bit of a braggart, so he hears all about them, and he never minds, because he could listen to you brag about yourself for centuries on end and the whole time he’d only nod along and agree.

the more missions there’s been, though, the more exhausted you are at the end of the week. and the more exhausted you are, the more orgasms you try to pull from your fingers every friday night.

when tara’s over, your music is never loud. your laughs rarely carry over. and your volume has never been disruptive (not that he would consider hearing you to be disruptive at all). it’s as if you know that the walls are thin and you’re trying to be as polite as possible.

then why is it that when you touch yourself, you’re so loud?

are you trying to make sure he can hear you?

or, and this is what already has him hardening at the thought, are you just so sensitive that you can’t help it?

your first whimper blesses his ears, and xavier shuts his eyes, lying flat with his head against his pillow. closing his eyes helps. it makes him feel less like a stalker who’s crossed through time and space for you, and more like he’s just someone you care for, because this way he can imagine you’re in front of him, on top of him, letting out those first few sweet sounds at his touch.

“mmh,” your voice carries over, and goosebumps litter his arms as he swallows, teasing the line of his boxers with the tips of his fingers. there isn’t a rush. usually, he has just enough restraint to make sure he comes with you.

the next thing he hears is a sharp gasp, and xavier groans lowly, trying to be quiet, or at least more quiet than you. already he’s building tonight’s fantasy up, spurred on by the sound of the rain beating against the window. the last time you and he had spent the night in the rain…

“just stay until tomorrow morning,” you’d urged him, lashes fluttering innocently, not knowing the key that he’d supposedly forgotten was heavy in his pocket. even though he was the one who’d lied, he’d still argued against it, because now that the invitation was out in the open you were too close for his rapidly beating heart, your eyes too inviting and your hands too soft.

xavier imagines he didn’t argue that night. he imagines he’d agreed instead, and had accepted the change of clothes from your closet. the acid in his chest that hisses knowing you even have another man’s clothes in your closet is quickly silenced when you don’t wait for him to leave the room, and instead lift your own shirt right above your head.

he’s never seen you like that. but his imagination is more than ready to supply him with what you’d look like, evidence gathered from how your uniform would cling to you while you fought, or even from how your robes would slip up a little when you were sparring him some hundred years ago—

his hand wraps around his cock without him even realizing it, and he lets out a small, choked moan.

your hands are softer than this. they’d feel better. in the corner of his mind he sees you, topless, pushing him back onto the bed and crawling above him, caressing his face with those soft hands before running them down his chest. your touch does so love to wander. and his body is yours to explore. he’s never belonged to someone else.

he whispers your name and almost as if in response, you let out a cute little squeal, and xavier curses under his breath as he pictures you making that sound while he fingers you. he’d start off with one, just because you seem sensitive. but then he’d add another. and another, and then he’d watch you ride them.

slowly, he rubs his hand up and down his length, remembering the last time you’d held this hand to resonate with his evol. last week, for a particularly tough wanderer. your palm had been smooth against it, and now the next time you do it he’ll remember that he touched himself to the thought of you with that same hand.

“mmh, don’t tease me…”

oh, you’re speaking today. pleading with an invisible voice, or maybe you really do know that he’s just below you, hanging on to your every word. and he’s disinclined to acquiesce to your request—he’d do nothing but tease you. once he’d make you come once with his fingers, he’d toss your legs over his shoulders and drag his tongue along your folds, bring you to the brink before pulling away. he’d watch the way your lips pout and the way your eyes flare up whenever you’re emotional, and he wouldn’t give you time to complain before diving in again.

“sorry, sweetheart, you know i can’t help it.”

xavier’s eyes fly open with a gasp at the sudden other voice—there’s someone with you. there’s someone in your room, on your bed, with their hands on you.

there’s a pause, and then he hears you again, letting out a small, “y-you’re so…haah, mean…”

one of his hands curl into the sheets below, clutching them so tightly in his fist that he wouldn’t be surprised if they came off.

someone is touching you. someone is making you—incredible, wonderful, beautiful you—whine like that, close enough to hear you, far closer than xavier has ever been.

“i’m not mean,” the man who is invading your bedroom right now says, “you can’t look like that and expect me not to edge you. you’re the most beautiful when you’re begging, you know?”

“i could say the same about you,” is your not-so-hushed response, and during the next pause he can barely hear anything but he knows you must be kissing him. him, whoever he is. a date, your boyfriend, the devil—you’re kissing him, those soft, gorgeous lips of yours are against someone else’s when all xavier has done in his time with you is try to tear his eyes off those lips, wondering what they would like against him.

“c’mon,” your voice pleads again, “i need you. i’ve needed you all day.”

the man groans, and xavier hears the kiss this time, one fierce and stolen in the heat of the moment.

“if you insist. you know i can’t resist you, sweetheart.”

there’s some shuffling and xavier thinks his heart is going to beat out of his chest. he feels…he feels everything, sick and jealous and almost angry, and he can feel himself trembling with every inch of him screaming to get up and confront whoever thinks they can touch your skin and draw those noises from your throat—

but when you let out a high-pitched, muffled cry, xavier’s hand goes back down, and he starts stroking himself with more urgency.

you’ve never been this loud before. and xavier used to enjoy that, thinking of it as a challenge, that if he ever got to have you, he’d make sure you were louder with him than you were with anyone else. he’s brought himself to orgasm at just the idea. but now it’s torture, hearing your voice go up several octaves for someone who isn’t him, for whoever’s hips are roughly colliding against your own, filling his ears with a muted plap, plap, plap…

“fu-u-ck, baby, how are you this tight?” the interloper groans, “gonna make me come, m’gonna come inside you…”

xavier’s skin crawls at the needy moan you let out in response.

the fantasy in his head is ruined. there is no more vision of a seductive version of you having your wicked way with him, but instead he is imagining exactly what is happening, a dirty picture of him in a corner watching someone else enjoy you to the fullest extent. wrecking your beautiful body the way you deserve.

your moans are building, higher and higher, and his back is arching off the bed as he fucks his fist, still trying to pretend like he’s yours and you’re his, that he’s the one burying himself inside your wet heat, that your nails are digging into his back, leaving lines on his skin, drawing blood if that’s what you wanted—

“raf!” you wail, and your voice breaks, and xavier’s eyes roll back, and he spills into his hand.

there’s still a ringing in his ears as he pants, breathing heavily while the sound of skin slapping becomes more desperate, as the intruder—raf— speeds up to try and reach his own end too.

his hand moves on its own. with barely an intention formed in his mind, he presses it to his heart, and he feels a surge of energy run through his chest, no time left to regret anything.

the sounds stop completely.

after a minute, his phone lights up with a notification.

starlight: hey did your lights go out too???

starlight: my room just blacked out

starlight: i had a friend over i’m so embarrassed lol

with his chest heaving as he lays back against the pillows, and his right hand sticky, xavier texts you back with his left, a soft, tired sigh escaping him.

xav: no mine’s still on

xav: i’ve got tea and takeout come over

xav: i’d love to meet your friend

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #l&ds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #xavier fic #xavier x reader #xavier smut #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #xavier #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x mc #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace xavier #valkyrie stories

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narryffdreaming · 6 days

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lia and harry's story (one)

summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) || word count: 14,7k

some scenes are different. some scenes are still the same. but here they are again.

“Rohan isn’t working tonight.”

The toneless, husky voice echoed in the dim lights, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat as she whipped her head to her left.

Harry walked past her and towards the sink, too occupied carrying a box under one of his arms. When he stopped, he turned his back to where she was and placed the item on the laminated counter, then put his free hand into his pocket and pulled a utility knife, not wasting any other second before using it to tore the cardboard in half.

Lia’s belly fluttered.

White t-shirt, black pants. Sleeves short enough for her to admire the multiple tattoos covering his arms, and fabric tight enough for her to follow the movements of the muscles on his back as he pulled a few napkins and straws out of the box.

She only needed a second for things to click inside her, and for her to remember why she decided to go to The Wandering Triplet in the first place.

Harry’s unkempt dark brown hair curled on top of his head and also a little bit to the sides, but it seemed shorter on the back. He had clearly gotten a haircut since last week, when she last saw him at the bar, and even though Lia couldn’t see his face, she already knew that it suited him.

She knew that he looked good.

Really good.

No, she knew that he looked great.

Unfairly and painfully handsome.

Like a dream.

Like he always did.

Lia sighed.

Harry grabbed the box with one hand and turned around, briefly glancing at her. He didn’t say nor did a thing, seemingly completely unamused by her presence as he looked forward and headed back towards the black curtain.

And that’s exactly when it hit her: she still hadn’t said anything to him.

Nothing.

Not even a word.

Oh my God.

A flush of heat creeped up through the back of Lia’s neck, and her belly turned into knots.

She shifted on her feet, straightening up and pulling her elbows closer to her body as she watched him disappear behind the thick black fabric.

Rohan isn’t working tonight.

Lia frowned.

Why did he even… Ugh.

Of course Rohan wasn’t working that night. It wasn’t something hard to figure out—she had been to The Wandering Triplet more than enough times to realize that on Wednesday Rohan always started his shift later at night, meaning that Harry always opened the bar by himself.

Besides, why did he have to start a conversation with her like that? Why couldn’t he just have said something simple like… Hello?

She pulled the loose sleeves of her cardigan and covered her fingers, then crossed her arms against her stomach and scanned the three shelves at the back wall. Honestly, entertaining any useless thoughts was better than overthinking Harry’s actions. She didn’t have the strength inside her to try and understand his dislike for her. Not anymore. She had already given up on that a long time ago. All she wanted was to get something to drink, get comfortable on a table, and daydream a little before going back home and dealing with all the very real consequences of that pathetic and useless day.

Lia shook her head.

Ugh.

White rum… White rum… Where’s the white rum?

Since she’d walked into The Wandering Triplet for the first time, Lia had stared at those shelves long enough to realize they had a system to place everything. The one at the bottom was filled with different types of glasses, all upside-down, while the other two above were used to perfectly organize rows of many different types of alcohol.

When it came to the bottles, the still unopened ones and also the most expensive brands were at the top, while the most commonly used were in the middle, closer to their reach. From left to right, they were also careful, matching not only by type, but also organizing by brands and colors.

Another sigh left her mouth, and Lia dropped her shoulders. She knew she’d agreed with her psychiatrist that she’d wait until her body got used to the new medication, but she could’ve really used a drink that day. Not just any drink, but a mojito—it was her favorite, and Harry always made the best one.

“Ok, then. What can I get you?”

Lia jumped slightly, batting her eyelashes and shifting her arms on the counter.

Harry stood next to her, cleaning the already-clean-bar.

She recognized his white t-shirt as one of her favorites. The design, mixing palm trees and searchlights with shades of blue and green, reminded her of one summer she’d spent in Los Angeles with her family, and the faded orange words around it made her think of an old record store.

Harry always looked cool with that t-shirt, especially when he matched it with those black wide-legged pants he was wearing right then. He looked like someone who could be in a band, like someone who could hold a guitar in front of a crowd and make people faint at the sight.

Not a popstar or rockstar, though. Nuh-uh. He was too snappy for that.

If Harry were a musician, he would probably be part of an indie band. Or one of those groups people never heard of until they randomly shuffled through a rainy and foggy playlist on Spotify.

And he’d definitely be the moody and mysterious bass player, bothered only by doing his own sound and ignoring all the screaming girls at his feet.

Bass guitar player. Yes. That would be for sure—he had great hands, and they looked perfect for the four-stringed instrument.

Harry wiped the surface forcefully, then tightened his long fingers around the light-brown towel and threw the item over his shoulder. As he held it there with one hand, he finally faced her, grasping the edge of the counter with his other hand and stretching his arm.

Leaf, intense, green eyes stared into her boring brown ones, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat.

He was so pretty.

So, so pretty.

And to daydream and imagine things was fun, but Harry wasn’t in any indie band, nor even a musician. He was simply the sulky, pretentious bartender who worked across the street from her apartment. And the guy who she had the biggest and most stupid crush on.

Harry cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows, and flinched his chin down.

Damn.

Lia shifted on her feet.

“It’s—I—I mean…” She shook her head and cleared her throat, too. “Sorry. Just water, I think? I—Yes. Water. Please.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned around, scoffing quietly as he walked to the shelves. “Of course.”

Lia furrowed her brows and held her breath, watching him take his time while he put some distance between them. As if having to get her a simple glass of water was the most boring thing he could do. Or maybe the most annoying thing he could do. Or maybe the most tiring thing he could do.

His reaction felt out of place, but she couldn’t be surprised, could she? After all, she was used to his awful mood, and she’d gotten really good at pretending it didn’t bother her—to the point where she almost believed it herself.

In fact, to be honest, had it been any other day, she probably wouldn’t have even minded his behavior. She would’ve probably just accepted it and added it to the countless humiliating moments she’d lived so far.

But it was the last thing she needed on that particular Wednesday evening, when everything had already turned out so shitty that she was both mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Lia exhaled through her nose and clenched her jaw.

In less than eight hours, three people had already treated her with disdain and condescension, and four had made her feel inferior and weak. All she had done was to work on herself and try to step out of her comfort zone, like she promised Dr. Reisman she would do, and all she had gotten in return was… Nothing.

So shame on her for needing some distraction, right? Shame on her for thinking that silently watching her crush from far away would help her forget about her stressful and dreadful day. Shame on her for believing that she would be able to feel at least slightly better after spending five minutes at the bar.

A glass full of water emerged in front of her, and Lia blinked.

“There you go, princess.” Harry smiled, as blatantly sarcastic and careless as he could be, then turned around and walked back to the sink.

Lia glared at him, tightening her hands into fists and letting her body be consumed by her heavy breathing.

She hated when he looked at her like that. And she hated when he made her feel like a child. Harry almost never talked to her, but when he did, he seemed to always find a way to make her feel mocked or challenged to say something. Challenged to be different. Challenged to speak up. Challenged to react quicker.

And Lia hated it.

She truly hated it, because she wasn’t good with words. At all. And she was well aware of that. She was getting treatment because of that, for fucks sake!

So she didn’t need anyone pointing out the obvious for her. And she didn’t need anyone making her feel even worse for not being able to actually get better. Or for constantly messing things up even though she desperately tried not to.

Why…

Why did it have to be so hard for her?

And why did it have to be so hard all the damn time?

Why couldn’t she get things right? At least once in her life?

And why on earth did she insist on nurturing that fruitless crush, anyway?

Huh?

Why did she care about someone who didn’t know her at all? Someone who had never even tried to get to know her?

Huh?

And also, why couldn’t Harry just let her be?

Why did he have to treat her that way?

What had she even done to him, huh?

What had she done, besides moving across the street and being a regular customer at the bar?

Huh?

Huh?!!

Lia grabbed the glass in front of her and took a sip of water. Then another one, and another one. Desperately gulping down three quarters of it before putting it down on the counter again.

Harry was unbelievable.

Unbelievable!

The judgment behind every action and every word was completely unnecessary.

So what if she was drinking water? Huh? Why did it matter? What difference did it make? She could drink whatever she wanted to, right?

And why—why—calling her princess? What was the point? What did he even mean by that?

Huh?

Huh?!?!

“Ok, look,” Harry said, standing in front of her with a frown on his face and arms crossed on his chest, “are you just going to stand there all night? Because I told you Rohan isn’t—”

“Oh my goodness!” Lia laughed, uncrossing her arms and taking a step back from the counter. “This is… I… You… I’m just… Ugh!”

She shook her head and looked down. Reaching for her bag, she watched her own movements as she put her hand inside it and rummaged through her things.

“I’ll go, okay? I’ll go,” she said, fishing around for her wallet. “But you know what, Harry? Considering I’ve been around here for almost a year now, and that so far you’ve never even cared to… I don’t know… At least know my name, you don’t need to try so hard to be an asshole to me all the time, y’know?” She found some cash laying around, then grabbed the notes firmly between her fingers and slammed them on the counter. “You’ve already earned the title.”

She turned around and gritted her teeth, feeling the heat reverberating through her skin as she mumbled, “Asshole.”

And then, she walked away, finally removing herself from the unneeded interaction and not even once daring to look back at his face.

For the next three weeks, Lia didn’t go to the bar.

It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t intentional. She was busy, and life was happening. She went back to her parents house for a weekend, enjoyed the quietness of hometown, worked some extra hours, had dinner with her friends, took some alone time for herself, and then… Well, and then she also didn’t make any effort to go.

Because why would she, anyway?

“Excuse me.”

Someone shoved her, causing Lia to stumble on her feet and snap out of her mind. She looked to her side, apologizing for standing in the way while shuffling on her feet to keep her balance.

Nobody seemed to care about her presence, though. Nor to have the slight idea of how much wondering it took before showing up again. Or to know that the last time she’d been there she’d called a bartender out for not knowing her name—and that she might’ve used the word asshole, too.

Lia let her hair fall on her face and sighed.

Things inside The Wandering Triplet were… Different.

Really different.

For starters, it was way more packed than usual, more crowded than what she ever expected it to be. People stood everywhere, talking and laughing even louder than any other time. And she wasn’t sure the place had at least once smelled that much like beer and perfume.

On top of that, two guys seemed to be playing live music, something she had definitely never seen there before. Just like a lot of the faces surrounding her right then and there.

She swallowed, then rubbed her neck.

It was hard not to notice the way her body heat had risen. Or how her entire outfit suddenly seemed like a bad call—because, honestly, how was she supposed to not sweat under that black turtleneck? Or under the tight fabric of her jeans? Even her feet were burning up, buried in those damn leather boots.

And it wasn’t like Lia was incapable of dressing according to the situation. It was just that, well, how was she even supposed to imagine that the place would ever be so crowded?

Especially on a Monday night!

C’mon!

Monday nights were always their quietest nights. So much so that they didn’t even require two bartenders working at the same time.

And Lia knew that. It was exactly the whole reason why she had chosen to go back on that particular night: because Monday nights were Harry’s nights off.

Or, well, at least they used to be Harry’s nights off.

Shit.

There was absolutely no way Rohan would be able to handle that chaos all by himself, right?

So…

Oh God.

She was going to see him… Wasn’t she?

The whole therapy session, with all the planning and thinking about how she could go back there without actually having to face him, had been a complete waste of time. Right?

It had been for nothing.

And a complete failure.

Right?

Right?!

Her stomach fluttered, then shot a soft tingling to her chest.

Shit.

She didn’t want to see him, though. Of course she didn’t. Not after she’d humiliated herself.

So… She should’ve turned around and gone back home, right? Try it again on a different night, maybe. Or just find a different bar.

Right?

Lia sighed, heavier this time.

She couldn’t run away, though. The whole point of going to the bar again was to challenge her own thoughts and beliefs, so she couldn’t give up now. She had to try.

Right?

Oh God.

Sliding her tongue through her lips, Lia put her hair behind her ears and focused on her destination, then squeezed her way in to make it to the counter and order herself a drink—just as she promised Dr. Reisman she would do.

To navigate her body through so many strangers wasn’t an easy task, that’s for sure, but she eventually managed to push herself all the way across the room. Once she found herself closer to the counter, a man walked backwards, holding three beers between his hands.

Lia turned sideways, giving him more room to walk without dropping anything. It also turned out to be the perfect opportunity for her to place one hand on the edge of the wooden bar, hold herself, and step onto the new empty space.

After that, everything felt mostly like a blur.

Rohan was there, but he wasn’t alone. There was also a girl helping him out. A girl she hadn’t seen there before. Short, blonde hair. Long legs and arms. Tattoos on her shoulder and piercing on her nose. She handed him empty glasses and chatted excitedly, while he grabbed each with a smile and put them all back on the bottom shelf.

And then a tattooed arm abruptly flashed in front of her, and Lia lurched back. Barely catching the color of the towel being yanked in circles right next to her.

Someone yelled an order, another person called someone’s name, and another one shouted an ‘excuse me’ a couple of steps to her side. Pop acoustic covers were still playing in the back and someone dropped a couple of spoons behind the bar.

Everything was happening at the same time. Right where she was. And yet all she could pay attention to was Harry’s figure coming to a stop in front of her.

Harry blinked once, then turned his head slightly to the side, shouting the words without removing his sea-green eyes from her. “Rohan! Lia is here!”

And just like that, Harry turned around and walked away.

And she was all by herself all over again.

Lia frowned.

What…

Did he…

Had Harry just called her name?

Lia is here.

That’s what he’d said, right?

Lia is here.

Her stomach fluttered.

Considering how the last thing she had said to him—besides calling him an asshole, of course—was that he didn’t know her name, that couldn’t be a coincidence… Right?

Right?!

“Lia, heyyy!"

She lowered her gaze to the counter and furrowed her brows.

How the hell had Harry been able to do that? To disconcert her in a matter of two seconds?

Four words. That was it. That was all it had taken.

All because he had said her name.

After three weeks of not seeing him.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Rohan stood in front of her with worried eyes and puzzled face, and Lia blinked.

It took her a moment to realize she was still frozen in place, but she finally shook her head and looked up.

“Uh, yeah… I… Yes. Oh my God. Sorry. Yes.” She chuckled and waved her hand. “I just... Long day today. Sorry.”

Rohan nodded and smiled, too. “Gotcha. No worries! It’s nice to see you again! You look taller today.”

“Oh.” Lia leaned back and looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes inside her high heel leather boots. “Must be the shoes.” She shrugged. “Don’t wear them often.”

“You should. You look nice! So, what can I get ya? Let’s cheer you up after a long day, huh?”

Lia sighed, then cleared her throat.

Rohan’s energy was always loud. His brown eyes always sparkled with joy, and every time he smiled his entire face lit up. It definitely made it really easy to talk to him, mostly because he never gave her too much time to speak and be awkward. He moved forward, simply worrying about doing his job and constantly making sure everyone was having a good time.

“Actually,” she said, “I don’t... I don’t know what I want. Maybe a cocktail, please? Nothing strong, though. I just… Yeah… I haven’t been drinking for a while, so... I think I’d rather be careful? You know? Sorry.”

Rohan tilted his head and grinned at her, watching her for a brief moment before he shook his head and chuckled.

A flush creeped across Lia’s cheeks, and she bit the inside of her bottom lip.

“Of course!” He nodded, watching her as he took a step back and winked at her. “One minute, yeah?”

Rohan turned around and walked away, and Lia let the air out through her nose.

Always the same thing. She just had to find a way to embarrass herself, didn’t she?

Dropping her shoulders and peeking at her sides, she found Harry standing by the other end of the counter, chatting with the new bartender while they mixed a couple of drinks.

He hadn’t changed much—or at all. The hair had probably been trimmed and he had clearly shaved at some point just to let his facial hair grow again, because his scruff looked just the same as three weeks ago.

Even his t-shirt seemed to be the same one—until Lia noticed it actually had different writing and design.

Her belly fluttered, just like it always did when she looked at him. And then, when she couldn’t decide if the fluttering was a good or bad feeling, her chest always tightened as well.

It tightened with a mix of amazement, delight, frustration, and sadness. All at once.

Because no matter how oblivious Harry was to it, he was the whole reason Lia had slowly become a regular at the bar.

Sure, a great therapy session had led her to challenge herself and get a drink by herself. And then, that spur of the moment decision had taken her to the bar across the street—the only one that was open that night.

But walking into the bar and meeting someone who would make her insides blaze wasn’t on her plans. And even considering challenging herself for a second time just a few days later definitely wouldn’t have happened if, that exact same night, she hadn’t met him.

Eleven months had gone by since that night, and yet Lia still winced every time she recalled it.

Harry had taken her order, but hadn’t even smiled politely when doing so. He also hadn’t looked at least one bit excited about making the mojito she’d asked for (which later Lia thought tasted delicious, anyway).

Even after that, no matter how many times she had stepped into the bar, he never even flinched when looking at her. Never.

It was as if she didn’t even exist to him.

So Lia had a crush on him, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. Harry had never hidden his lack of interest in getting to know her, so she knew he wasn’t into her. And she was fine with that. Really.

She was fine with it. And she was more than used to it by now. Even if—

“That’s Sage.”

Lia turned her head and straightened her back, only then noticing she’d been openly staring at the interaction between the two bartenders.

“She just started, so Harry’s going over our signature drinks with her,” Rohan added, shrugging and smiling. “I know it can be hard to believe, but he’s pretty patient. A great guy once you get past the frown on his face.”

Lia smiled. She actually didn’t find that hard to believe at all, but she didn’t want Rohan to know how she really felt about his co-worker, or how much she had watched all along, so she didn’t share the thought with him.

Instead, she glanced at the cocktail glass he’d placed on the counter and asked, “A martini?”

“Right!” Rohan slapped his open hand on the counter, as if bringing himself back to the conversation. “Apple martini, to be precise. Or, as some would say, appletini.”

Lia chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve had one of these before.”

“Hope you enjoy it, then.”

“I’m sure I will. Thank you, Rohan.”

He curled his lips into another bright and cheerful smile. “My pleasure. If you don’t like it, next one’s on me, yeah? So lemme know.”

“Okay.” Lia smiled and nodded, wrapping her fingers around the glass and pushing her weight off the counter. “I will.”

— — — — —

Sitting by herself, Lia took the last sip of her melted apple martini just as the two young boys finished playing another pop song from their acoustic set.

People clapped next to her, and she left the glass on the table to do the same, tilting her head and smiling at how cute and shy the pair looked on the stage. Despite the obvious age difference, they somehow reminded her of her students when they had to perform for the first time in front of an audience, which was probably why she kept feeling the need to pay attention to them and reassure them with her eyes—a way to let them know how well they were doing up there.

They thanked politely and introduced the next song, and Lia rested her chin on the palm of her hand, paying attention to the first few chords of a song she couldn’t recognize.

Truthfully speaking, Lia was proud of herself. Even though the place was way more crowded than she was comfortable with, and even though she’d thought about leaving multiple times, she survived the thirty minutes she’d promised herself she would try to stay.

So she knew she had already made some good progress, and that she could now go home without feeling guilty.

She hadn’t failed. Not that night, at least.

As a gift to herself, she allowed her eyes to wander around the bar, trying to get a glimpse of Harry before she officially left.

She found him behind the counter, of course, all focused while chatting with his two coworkers. He listened to whatever Rohan was saying, nodding along while pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. But then, something in the story caused him to widen his eyes and drop his hand to Sage’s shoulder, holding the shock on his face firmly for a moment before he finally threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. Bringing his free hand to his chest while his entire body seemed to shake.

Lia’s belly fluttered, and she was pretty sure both of her lungs had stopped working.

He was just so… Attractive.

So hypnotizing. It was like she couldn’t take her eyes away from him.

And she knew how silly she was for it. For wanting him that bad.

She knew it. But she couldn’t help it.

She just couldn’t.

A group of people approached the counter, and Rohan automatically got back into work mode, walking towards them. Harry and Sage were left behind, then, but they quickly seemed to engage into more conversation. Happy, interesting conversation.

Jealousy sparked in her chest, but Lia still watched him with nothing but fascination. She watched the way he crossed his arms on his chest, and also the way he kept raising one of his hands to gesture whenever he talked to Sage.

Lia is here.

His words echoed inside her mind, and Lia knew, right then and there, that later at night she’d be in bed and think about the way he’d said her name. Over and over again.

She’d think about the way he treated the new girl, and she’d dream about him treating her like that, too.

She knew it, because she’d been there before. Because after that first night at the bar, watching Harry became like a hobby to her. And because in the eleven months she’d been there, even though it hadn’t been that often, there had been a time when Lia used to see him with a woman at the bar. A girlfriend, perhaps. Someone who was obviously older than him, but just as tall, and had shoulder-length, perfectly straight, dark auburn hair. Someone who’d always seemed too elegant and sophisticated for The Wandering Triplet, and yet had never looked out of place. Effortlessly delicate and powerful at the same time. Someone who carried herself in a way that screamed confidence, as if she’d never known what it was like to feel insecure about herself.

During those nights, when that woman used to be at the bar, Lia always stood a little bit afar, not wanting to be disrespectful to them, but still allowing herself to catch some glimpses of a completely different version of him.

A more natural, vulnerable version. Where Harry would laugh so loud he would drop his head back, or peck her lips multiple times, and even caress her cheek in between customers. Where he would whisper in her ear, make her smile, and stare deeply into her eyes when she did all the talking. Where he would also walk her out of the bar holding her hand, or hug her waist when guiding them to his car.

It was obvious to Lia — and probably to anyone who looked at them, to be honest — how much they appreciated each other’s company, and how much he cared for her. It was also very clear how much Harry enjoyed the affection. How much he enjoyed being touched and taken care of.

And embarrassingly as it was, more than once Lia had woken up highly aware of dreaming about him. Recalling false, vivid memories of her replacing that woman, and of Harry touching and kissing her, instead.

Lia shifted on her seat, withdrawing her chin from her hand and rolling her shoulders. Hoping to push those thoughts away, but also praying people never find out they even existed in the first place.

Focusing her sight on them again, Lia caught Rohan walking back to Harry and Sage. He stood with his back turned to her, and the other two resumed their attention on whatever he had to say.

She watched a little bit more, just to enjoy those couple minutes before she left. Music played in the background, and people chatted jazzily all around her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though. She just couldn’t.

So handsome.

Harry lifted one hand, pulling his short hair back and out of the way, and then crossed his arms again. He listened to Rohan, and to everything he had to say. He focused, nodded, and offered his own comments from time to time. Giving his co-worker all his attention, solely and purely.

Until he drifted his sight to the side and met her stare.

Lia held her breath and gulped down, freezing as his eyes settled inside hers.

Oh God.

Her heart palpitated. And her breathing sped up.

It was hard to be one hundred percent sure of what was happening when he was so far away, but it was also hard to have any doubts when he was so intense that she could feel him all through her body. And when he didn’t seem to make any attempt to avoid her gaze. Or move. Or look away.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

Oh my God!

A heavy and empty feeling spread in her stomach, and Lia looked away.

What the hell was even happening?

What was she supposed to do?

Why was he looking at her?

Was he actually looking at her?

She glanced back at him, and their eyes instantly met again.

He was still watching her.

Lia closed her hands into fists, then forced herself to breathe. Deeply. Heavily.

Harry lifted his eyebrows and tilted his chin down.

It was an expression she’d seen before, and that it was enough to make every single one of her muscles quiver.

She darted her eyes back to her empty drink and blinked.

What the hell?

To have him staring back at her felt even worse than him saying her name or her calling him an asshole. It was like breaking the fourth wall. It was like acknowledging her existence. And Lia didn’t know what to do with that.

She rummaged for something, but it was as if her thoughts weren’t there anymore. As if her brain stopped functioning and she went completely blank.

And just like that, before she could give herself a pep talk and calm herself down, Lia had already pushed her chair away from the table and ran to the door. Stepping outside and away from the bar.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Or at least that was what one of Lia’s teachers always used to say. And also what crossed her mind on Friday night, when she walked into The Wandering Triplet followed by Jillie and Molly.

“Ohhh, I like this place,” Molly said, coming to a stop right behind the other two.

“Yeah!” Jillie nodded, then linked her arm with Lia’s. “I can see why you like it here. Feels kinda cozy. Intimate.”

Lia’s mouth twitched with a smile, and she took one hand up to put her hair behind her ear.

Dr. Reisman was so right about it.

Going through life without opening up and sharing things wasn’t working for her. Not anymore. And yeah, it sucked that she had needed a push from her therapist and the assignment of a new task to do it, but at least she’d told them about it.

At least she wasn’t keeping it all to herself anymore.

“I’m glad you like it,” Lia offered, looking around and taking the place in.

It didn’t feel too crowded this time, not yet at least. On her left side, most tables were occupied, and an older man was performing on the same tiny stage the two boys were playing the other night—his low, raspy voice blending with the soft chatting and laughing of customers.

To her right, though, only a few people stood near the counter, giving her the perfect view of the three bartenders working behind it.

Lia cleared her throat and diverted her eyes back to the stage.

“I guess it’s usually like this,” she added, ignoring the fact that her belly was suddenly turning upside down. “But it also depends on how crowded the other two bars are.”

“Hmm… Well,” Jillie said, turning her head to look at them, “should we get a table, then?”

Lia nodded and stepped forward.

“Sure—”

“Wait!” Molly placed her hands on Lia’s hips, forcing her to stay in place. “Let’s get a drink first.”

“A—Already? You sure? Now? Right now?"

“Yes.” Molly smirked. “Right now. C’mon. Wanna see that bartender of yours up close.”

“Oh God…”

Lia chuckled, mostly because she didn’t know what to say. Or do.

Of course they wanted to see him, though. After all, it was the whole reason why they were there that night.

At first the excitement and curiosity had happened through texts, when Lia got the courage to tell them about Harry. Their reaction had been instant, and it’d brought so much joy to her body that Lia ended up spending way more time on her phone than she should have.

Despite letting them know it was only a crush, and that he didn’t really care about her, they both entertained the subject, asking details about the way he looked or how she’d met him. It was easy to get carried away with them, because they didn’t make it seem that deep, treating the topic lightly. Treating it as a joke.

They also didn’t make her feel guilty or out of her mind for being attracted to him. And when she explained to them how she worried about being inappropriate for fantasizing about him, they both shared their own stories of moments when they’d fancied someone they probably shouldn’t have, and even of things they’d done with people that they probably shouldn’t have.

It brought some sense of imperfection to her, and of humanity, and it made her breathe better. So before ending the conversation, when they asked to meet him, Lia didn’t want to say no and go back to her lonely and quiet bubble, so she agreed with them.

And that’s how they ended up there.

On Friday night. At the bar.

“Oh, yes! I wanna see him, too!” Jillie let go of Lia’s arm and turned around. “C’mon.”

The idea of her gorgeous, tall, cheerful friend reaching the bar first and alone was enough to get a reaction out of her.

“Okay, okay!” Lia looked at the floor and closed her hands into fists, then stepped forward and led the way.

She had no idea what would come out of that night, but she knew it didn’t make sense for her to run away or avoid the situation—not even if it made her stomach swirl and turn. After all, telling her best friends about Harry and The Wandering Triplet had felt like a bold move, but also like a step she needed to take.

And one she hadn’t regretted so far.

"Heeyyy!” Rohan’s cheerful voice greeted as soon as Lia reached the counter, and she immediately glanced up. He approached them with a grin and open arms, easily leaving his co-workers behind. “Look who’s here!”

Lia curled her mouth into a closed-lip smile and cleared her throat.

“H—Hi…”

“You good? It’s nice to see you! You almost never show up on Fridays.”

“Oh…” She chuckled softly, placing her hands inside the pockets of her jacket and shrugging. “I just… Yeah. I’m with my friends tonight, so… I wanted to show them around? I guess…”

“Of course!” Rohan widened his eyes, but his smile never faltered. He shifted his sight to the other girls and stood up straighter, then stretched his arm and offered his hand for them to shake. “How rude of me. Hello there, I’m Rohan.”

“Molly.”

“Jillie, hi.”

“Welcome to The Wandering Triplet, yeah? Hope you enjoy it. Any friend of Lia is more than welcome here.”

Lia shifted on her feet, then caught a glimpse of Harry moving towards the shelves.

She hadn’t seen him again, but the intensity of his eyes was still engraved inside her mind. It had induced the most vivid dreams for the last couple of nights, and it brought a fluttery to her belly every time she thought about him.

And she really didn’t know what to think about it, or if she even should think so much about it, but it was nice to see him again. It really was.

He looked good, as usual, and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could see enough to know he was already frowning. Also as usual.

For a change, though, Harry was wearing a black t-shirt. Black t-shirt, black wide legged pants, and black shoes.

Black, black, black.

Lia sighed. She wished he could be the one taking their orders and chatting with them. Him, instead of Rohan. At least once.

Jillie elbowed her side, and Lia shook her head. Clearing her throat, she looked from Rohan, to Jillie, to Molly.

They were all watching her.

She forced a chuckle out of her mouth and faced Jillie again. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jillie shrugged. “Rohan was just saying how you’re one of their favorite regulars. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Lia laughed—or tried to laugh—and shook her head again. Vehemently, this time. Almost desperately. “I don’t… No… Yeah, no… I don’t think I am.”

“Of course you are,” Rohan said, drawing all the attention back to him. “I mean, I know you’re my favorite customer, at least.”

Rohan winked, and Lia’s brain froze. Her stomach rolled before heaviness settled in, and her senses seemed to catch every detail around her: her friends coughing next to her, Sage patting Rohan’s shoulder as she walked past him, and Harry snorting and shaking his head behind him.

Heat creeped up through her neck, face, and ears. And all she wanted was to get away from there. To be swallowed by the ground. To vanish from air.

“Oookay…” Molly laughed, throwing her arm around Lia’s shoulder and pulling her close. “So what about getting your favorite customer and her friends two mojitos and a beer, huh?”

— — — — —

“Your little shit!” Jillie hissed, sending her a glare and a laugh from across the table. “You’ve been hiding all this from us? I can’t believe you!”

Next to Lia, Molly laughed and shook her head. “Me neither.”

“And this Rohan guy? Oh my God! Lia! He’s so into you! What the hell?!”

“Yeah. How come you didn’t tell us about him?”

Lia shrugged.

Rohan had always been nice, and maybe he had said a few things here and there that had made her blush before, but he had never been so straightforward with the flirting.

Besides, she didn’t care about Rohan, so she never thought about mentioning him. Why would she?

The girls talked and laughed about her apparently “secret life”, but there was nothing Lia could think to say to them, so she listened.

And as she listened, she hid her face behind the rim of the glass in her hands, then took the first sip of her mojito.

Mint and rum went down her throat, and she pursed her lips.

It was good, but it wasn’t as good as Harry’s.

She twisted her neck and tried to catch a glimpse of the bar, but there were too many people in between.

Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed.

Was there even a way for her to interact with him again?

Should she walk in early on a Wednesday evening again?

What if Sage was there, too?

Would he take the opportunity to ignore her, like he normally did?

Ugh!

See?!

Harry was the one she wanted to talk about, not Rohan.

Why was Rohan the topic of conversation?

Lia faced the table and cleared her throat.

Both Jillie and Molly looked at her, and she shifted on her seat.

“Uh… So… What did you think of Harry?”

Eyeing one girl, then the other, Lia sipped her mojito again.

Jillie shrugged.

“I was so focused on Rohan that I didn’t even pay attention to Harry, to be honest.” She stretched her neck, lifting her head towards the bar’s direction.

“I think… Damn he’s hot,” Molly admitted.

Lia’s lips curled up. “Yeah? You think?”

“Oh yes.” Molly nodded. “The tattoos, the clothes, the hair... And not shaving but also not actually having a beard? Pft. The guy definitely knows what he’s doing.”

Lia’s smile turned into a grin.

She had always been so afraid of her friends (and people in general) judging her, or making her feel embarrassed, that she never allowed herself to just share and enjoy things with others. And in that moment, sitting with them at the bar and gossiping about Harry, as ridiculous as she knew it would sound, she felt less alone.

Damn! She just couldn’t wait to tell Dr. Reisman all about it. She would be happy to know that Lia was finally considering her words to be correct: living outside of her tiny safe bubble could, in fact, be so good for her.

— — — — —

A couple of hours later, Molly and Jillie hugged Lia goodnight and shared an Uber back to their homes.

Lia stood near the bouncer and watched the car drive off, meanwhile tried to find her keys inside of her bag.

She really needed to bring something smaller for those kinds of situations, especially considering she was only across the street from her own apartment.

Why did she even need that much stuff?

She had never stopped to journal in the middle of a drink. And she had never done her nails outside her home. And she had never needed—

“So she has friends, after all.”

Lia jerked her head to one side, and then to the other. It took her a moment to see him, standing alone in the darkness of the tiny alley next to the bar.

Harry was leaning on his right shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed on top of his chest and his head slightly tilted to the side.

He smirked, and Lia’s chest tightened.

“You thought I didn’t have friends?” she blurted out, her tone softer and lower than she had intended to.

Harry shrugged, and his shoulders went up and down theatrically — dragging his crossed arms along with him while his lips curved down.

Lia blinked and looked at the floor.

She was convinced Harry didn’t care about her. A fact that implied he didn’t think about her, nor make assumptions about her.

Thinking again, though, she knew that wasn’t the truth.

Because Harry made assumptions about her. For instance, he constantly assumed she went to the bar to see Rohan. He also tended to scoff and roll his eyes at her, as if she was too predictable.

He didn’t know her, but he acted as if he did.

But... What kind of person he thought she was, then? What kind of person didn’t have any friends?

Did he actually think that low of her?

She was aware of how hard it was for her to be social, to feel comfortable around people, but she had never thought she could be perceived as someone who wasn’t capable of having any friends.

Did that even make sense?

Why did his comment make her feel so… Sad about herself?

So... Lonely?

So insufficient.

So out of place.

Damn.

What was she even feeling?

Her chest ached, and her throat felt sore, but she couldn’t point out exactly what any of that meant… How would she be able to control her emotions, if she couldn’t tell what emotions she was dealing with in the first place?

“Oh c’mon…” Harry scoffed, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, Lia could hear his eyes rolling in his voice. “I was just saying. Don’t be a baby about it.”

He sounded annoyed.

Or maybe disappointed.

Or maybe bored.

Lia looked up and to the left. She focused on the bouncer sitting on the stool and took a deep breath in. Watching him scroll through his phone without a single care about their interaction.

Or maybe pretending not to have a single care about it.

Maybe he was internally laughing about the whole thing. Ready to pat Harry’s back and agree with him. Ready to admit he had no idea why Lia kept showing up over and over again.

Another deep breath in, and Lia looked at the ground, finding her own feet.

Her boots were dirty with beer. She needed to clean them up as soon as she got home. She also needed to wash her hair, because she could definitely smell cigarettes. Were people smoking inside? Was that even allowed?

“See!”

Lia jumped. And looked up again.

Harry snorted and turned to the side, leaning his back completely against the wall and shoving his hands inside of his pants’ pockets. Shaking his head, he murmured, “I knew talking to you was useless.”

Lia’s heart shrunk.

Harry looked defeated. And maybe he really was, because apparently he had finally noticed how boring it was to have an actual conversation with her.

God, he made her feel so, so small.

“You—” Lia closed her eyes. She needed to speak, or she would regret it the next morning. She batted her eyes open and took a couple of steps forward, stopping only when she was in front of him. Closing her hands into fists, she breathed in, and then breathed out. “You need to… Stop.”

“Stop?”

“Yes. Stop! Stop acting like you know a thing about me, because you don’t, okay? If you… If you don’t want to know me then… Then fine. Just don’t. But stop… Just stop being such an asshole to me.”

He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Stop calling me an asshole.”

“Then stop being one!”

For a second, it seemed as if Harry’s lips twitched upwards, attempting to smile.

But then he licked his lips, and shrugged.

“How am I being an asshole? We don’t even talk.”

“Well… We… You… We clearly don’t, but…” She sighed and looked at the end of the alley, searching for a safe place to put her eyes and crossing her arms under her chest before she poured her honesty into him. “But when we do, you make sure to point out only the things I hate the most about myself, and that sucks.”

There was silence. A lot of silence. And if she hadn’t heard him sigh, or if she couldn’t see him through the corner of her eyes, she would’ve thought he had left.

Breathe in, Lia.

Breathe out.

“I know I am awkward, okay? And I know I am not fun to talk to. I know it takes me some time to answer, and I know people don’t want to be friends with me. I know all that. Trust me, I know. I know, and I hate that I am this way. But you… You have no idea how hard I try anyway. How hard I keep trying to step out of my comfort zone and just… Be different. Be better. So there’s no need to make fun of me, okay? Just let me be and I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Lia—”

“Don’t. Please. Just… I already hate myself for telling you all this. God… I—I haven’t told these things to anyone besides my therapist. And caring so much about it is another thing that I hate about myself. I know it’s stupid, I know I am old enough and shouldn’t care. I wish I didn’t but… It’s just… Anyway, I don’t need you being mean or making fun of me about it, okay? Finally talking to someone about this it’s... It was supposed to be good for me. It was supposed to… I don’t know… It was supposed to feel good and not... Not like this.”

“Listen—”

“No. Let’s just… Leave it like this, okay? Forget about it. It’s not like you ever cared about me anyway.”

There was a reason why Lia spent most of the time inside her head: it was better than facing the reality of her life.

And for the last twelve months or so, her mind had created a very nice and safe bubble for her to distract herself with. A bubble where she lived happily and unbothered. Where she didn’t embarrass herself. And where she didn’t mess things up.

Her bubble was hers and only hers, but she wasn’t alone in it. Of course she wasn’t.

Since she’d met him at the bar, and even though he had no idea about it, Harry had been there as well.

Lia liked to look at him, she liked to wonder about him, and she liked to fantasize about him. Because Harry was hot. And sexy as hell. And because although she wasn’t into the “dark and mysterious” vibe, she couldn’t deny that Harry made her insides come to live.

He really did.

In her dreams, Lia was sure he was everything she always secretly wanted but never had. Especially in bed.

He looked like the type of man who wasn’t nice, because he didn’t give a damn about being nice. He looked like the type of man who didn’t get attached, who was just after having a good time. Who would sleep with her, send her home, and roll his eyes at her the next time he saw her around.

He looked like the kind of man who could have any woman, at any time, without even having to try.

And Lia had always wondered how it would be like to have sex with someone like that, but she always knew it was a dangerous path to actually walk through. So when he brushed her off, or rolled his eyes at her, or didn’t even acknowledge she was there, she fed her fantasy up. But she wouldn’t be that into him if she didn’t know that’s all it was—a fantasy.

A fantasy that kept her company in her nice and safe bubble. That distracted her. That allowed her to stay by herself without losing her mind.

And a fantasy that ended up nowhere to be seen, because the bubble in which she had been happily living and nurturing all those dreams about him had burst right in front of her. And even though she’d been stupid in the past, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to allow herself to even think about something happening between them again. Nuh-uh.

Not at all.

Not anytime soon.

Not ever again.

Only hours had gone by, but Lia was already all over the place.

She hadn’t slept at all, too busy crying and catching up her breath.

She didn’t think it was fair that Harry had been the one who she’d opened up to, especially because it didn’t feel like opening up to someone. It felt like begging for him not to be mean at her because she was too insecure about herself. It felt like not being strong enough to just let it go. It felt like not being confident enough to act like a woman next to him. It felt weak. It felt sad. It felt awful.

Lia had never been so vulnerable to someone. Not besides Dr. Reisman, at least. So at that moment, when it finally happened — when she finally let it all out — all she had wanted and needed was a hug. And she couldn’t ask him that.

Of course she couldn’t.

So she had to go back to her place and go through all of it all by herself. All alone. Just like she didn’t want to be.

Damn. Her brain hurt from so much thinking. From all the embarrassment, all the judgment, all the regret.

She was spiraling, all over again. And because of a man, all over again.

Another man.

Again.

No. No, no, no. She couldn’t go through all that again. She really couldn’t. She needed to do something. She needed to handle the situation. She had to stop it before she ended up losing herself again.

And she was going to do it the only way she knew how—creating a new, nice, and safe bubble for herself. A bubble that could be her only world for a couple of days.

Or for as long as it took until she felt brave enough to step out of it again.

One day.

Two days.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

A week.

And another one.

“They are all delicious.” Lia crossed her arms on the counter and smiled. “But yeah, Snickers was definitely my favorite one so far.”

“Really?” Cece smiled. The wrinkles around her face doubled, and her hand shook slightly as she handed Lia the card reader. “Thank you, dear. Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Hmmm… I don’t think so.” She waited for the confirmation that the payment went through, then added, “But I’ll definitely be here on Friday.”

“Good. I’ll have a slice of your favorite ready for you then. On the house.”

Lia’s smile got wider, and she was filled by this sudden need of giving that sweet lady the biggest and warmest hug.

She couldn’t believe how long it had taken her to discover CC Tearoom, especially since it was right around the corner from her place. Cece’s hands truly turned ingredients into magic. So far, there hadn’t been a flavor that hadn’t made Lia close her eyes and hum to herself. This time, it was the Roasted Strawberries & Cream Cheesecake that had sent her over the moon, but on Monday it had been the slice of Chocolate-Peanut Butter, and the week before three other different ones.

So yeah, she should’ve been there and incorporated it into her routine a lot earlier.

Coffee and pies were so much better than mojitos, anyway.

Besides, she obviously felt way more comfortable sitting on the corner of a welcoming and homelike coffee shop than surrounded by loud and drunk people. And the way Cece and the other baristas treated her? Wow. It only highlighted how stupid she had been going to that bar, pinning over a guy that gave her nothing but coldness and rudeness all the time.

The mere thought of him brought a weird feeling to her belly, and Lia tried her best to push his presence out of her mind. She was getting better at it. Faster. Which was good, because it meant she suddenly wouldn’t even remember about him anymore, right?

She stepped into the summer night breeze and crossed her arms under her chest. Another day had practically gone by. Another Wednesday. Meaning it was almost the end of the week, and then a new one would start. And she would get to repeat everything all over again.

Wake up, go to work, go home, clean up or go out for a coffee (and a slice of cheesecake), get ready for the next day, and go to bed. From Monday to Monday. With an exception here and there — like grocery shopping and doing laundry on the weekends instead of going to work, and also going downstairs and visiting Mrs. Jones for some knitting or a few rounds of card games.

The latest activity had happened for the first time only last Saturday afternoon, but Lia was keen on the idea of making it a habit. Mrs. and Ms. Jones had been living on the second floor of her building for years. They were known by most neighbors as the couple who was always bickering, but could never stay away from each other. And despite Ms. Jones’ explicit complaints about everything and everyone, everybody seemed to like them a lot—probably because no-one took his grumpiness very seriously.

She turned around the corner and looked down at her feet. Her hair blew across her eyes, blocking her view of the black sneakers her parents had given her last Christmas. They were kind of loose on her feet, but at least she wasn’t wearing those white shoes anymore. Or any other color, for that matter. At least she’d gone back to her black neutral low-key outfits.

Taking one hand up, she pulled her hair over her shoulders, then tucked some strands behind her ear.

She focused on the way her legs carried her back to her building, tracing the well-known path her steps absently followed everyday.

There was nothing like a safe, quiet, and laid-back routine, was it?

No, there wasn’t.

It was all she needed.

All she had wanted.

To be okay.

And she had finally achieved it, hadn’t she?

“Lia!”

Out of nowhere, the voice hit her like thunder. Her body staggered for a moment, and the sound lingered inside her.

It was Harry, wasn’t it?

Calling her name?

Her heart raced, and a flush of adrenaline tingled through her body.

No. Of course not.

How could it be?

Why would it be?

“Lia, hey!”

Shit.

Another thunder, and another shock to speed up her heart. Except this time she didn’t stop moving — she walked even faster.

She was afraid to be right, she didn’t want to be right, but deep down she had no doubts. She knew it was him.

She also hoped it would be.

“Wait!”

He sounded louder, and Lia knew that when thunder got louder, it meant lighting was getting closer.

Her heart pounded inside of her chest, and a low buzz rang in her ears.

She closed her hand into a fist, tightening her fingers around her keys. Maybe she could get away with pretending she didn’t hear him. Maybe, if she just walked fast enough, she would reach the door and get inside before he called again. Maybe she could run up the front steps. There were only six of them... Or were they seven? It didn’t matter. Once she got inside her building, she would be fine.

“Lia, please! Hey!”

Just get the key and open the door, Lia. C’mon… C’mon! That’s it! Now, just get inside. Go, go, go!

With shaking hands, she pushed the front door of her building and took a step inside.

“Lia, c’mon! Just, please—Hey, stop!”

Harry’s hand banged against the door, and his heavy breathing echoed between the four walls of the tiny lobby.

Lia turned on her feet with a gasp, finding Harry with his mouth open and one arm stretched out, leaning his weight on the still open door while catching his breath.

Not fast enough, Lia. Not fast enough.

“I just—Fucking hell…” Harry breathed out, chest going up and down densely. He looked down and shook his head, then faced her again. “We need… We need to talk."

Lia crossed her arms and stepped backwards. She pulled her eyebrows together as she looked at him and took her very own version of shaky breaths.

Exact eighteen days had gone by since she’d last seen him. She knew it, because she’d been counting them — as embarrassing and ridiculous as it sounded.

She had been counting them because she was determined to make the number get higher and higher.

So, so determined. So careful, and so mindful of everything.

That’s why she walked her own street with her head down — to avoid even getting a glimpse of him walking in or out of the bar. She lived as if the place didn’t exist anymore. As if she’d never stepped in there. As if she didn’t even care about what the place could be past the door.

She hadn’t counted on the possibility of Harry running after her, though.

After all, why would he?

Why did he?

He was there, flesh and bone, in the lobby of her building. Trying to talk to her. To her.

And just like any other time before, Harry looked just… Stunning.

Absolutely and unfairly stunning.

Wearing all black, just like the last time she’d seen him. Just like when she’d snapped at him and made a fool of herself. When he’d made her realize she needed to take a step back from him.

A tingle spread on her stomach.

She swallowed down, then tightened the grip of her crossed arms.

Under the black fabric of her plain t-shirt, Harry’s body seemed thick with muscle. His arms looked too big for those short sleeves, something she’d already noticed and thought about before. Something she usually enjoyed paying attention to.

Breathe in, breathe out, Lia.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Her stomach tingled again, except this time it heated all over her body.

His strong, imposing figure had always sparked inside her a flush of craving for him. It had been the reason for so many of her not-so-innocent dreams, and the encouragement for so many of her hidden fantasies. She couldn’t recall a time in her life when she had desired a man like that, and it saddened her to think there was nothing she could do about it.

“Please?” Harry insisted, sliding his hand down through the thick wood, but still holding the door open.

Great. She had forgotten to speak. Again.

Lia blinked. And swallowed. “W–why?”

Her voice was shaking just as much as her hands had been seconds before, but she couldn’t allow herself to think too much about that. She didn’t even care, to be honest. All she wanted to know and all she cared about was why.

Why was Harry there?

Why did Harry want to talk to her?

Why couldn’t she just forget about it?

Why couldn’t she just move on?

Why couldn’t she just be different?

Why couldn’t her life be different?

Why couldn’t things be different?

Why couldn’t they be easier?

Why?

Why?!

“Because you deserve an apology.”

Lia blinked again. Once, and then a couple more times.

His words not only didn’t answer most of her questions, but also created a bunch of new ones.

What was he even doing?

Was he being serious?

Or was it all just a joke to him?

“I just—I don’t—” She drew her eyebrows closer and closer, until her forehead creased and wrinkled.

"Look,” Harry said, pausing only to take a deep breath in and pull his hair back. “I know I don’t deserve it, and I get that you don’t want to listen… But I just need a minute, that’s all. Just give me a minute and I’ll be out of your way. I promise. Please.”

Lia bit the insides of her bottom lip.

Generally speaking, Lia didn’t think she would’ve been able to say no to him, because she honestly didn’t want to say no to him. Still, any doubts that could’ve dared to cross her mind and make her second guess her decision disappeared as she looked at him—as she truly looked at him.

Because everything about Harry looked just the same as always, but somehow he looked completely different from any other time before.

Maybe it was because she’d never seen him in such a casual context—after all, they had never met or talked to each other in any circumstance that didn’t involve the bar.

Shit.

Would she even be able to hold a real conversation with him?

A sigh left her mouth, and Lia dropped her shoulders.

It wasn’t even about that, was it? That is, what felt different. It wasn’t about the context or the place. Right? It was something else… Something about the way he looked at her, perhaps… Something about the way he seemed to carry softness and worry in his stare. Two things she hadn’t seen on him before. Not aiming towards her, at least.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft, and it took her by surprise — she definitely hadn’t planned on speaking up.

And apparently it took Harry by surprise, too, because he widened his eyes and asked, “Okay?”

Lia swallowed, and nodded once.

“Really?” he insisted.

“Yes… Okay.”

“Ok,” he repeated, mimicking her previous nod. He stared inside her eyes for a moment, then glanced down to the floor. It was hard to tell what was crossing his mind as he silently shuffled on his feet, or when he took his free hand up and pulled his hair back. “Right. Yeah, ok. Let’s talk, then.”

Lia pressed her lips together and waited for him to speak up first, mostly because she couldn’t think of one single thing to say to him.

Harry, on the other hand, stood there with furrowed brows and puzzled eyes, as if he was going through his own personal battle inside his own mind.

Until, eventually, he shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Sorry.” He stepped forward, and as he walked inside, he let the door go and looked over his shoulder, watching until it fully closed behind him.

There was a pause, in which he took the time to face her again and shove his hands inside of his pockets.

And then, serious and determined, Harry spoke again. “To be completely honest, I didn’t think this through. I’ve just been thinking a lot about what happened, so I wanted to apologize to you. Because I’m really sorry for the other night. And also… Well, for everything else.”

“You don’t have to,” Lia said, and she hated how she sounded way more fragile and unsure than she wanted to. “Apologize, I mean. It’s fine.”

Harry squinted, and his forehead wrinkled.

“Of course I do. Everything you said the other night was—”

“Please.” She shook her head and looked away from him, tightening her arms around herself. “I—I don’t…”

Her mouth was incredibly dry, and there was an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach that was getting hard to ignore. It was heavy, and it hurt.

She closed her hands into fists, then dug her nails into her palms to prevent herself from getting lost inside her mind. She focused on the mailboxes on the wall to her left, looking for her name that had been printed and attached under the number of her apartment so many months ago.

“I don’t want to talk about what I said. Like, I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

Harry sighed.

“Lia…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just forget about everything.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

The front door opened, and Lia turned her head to the new movement.

“I said I don’t care,” Mr. Jones’ said, his unmistakable voice reaching her ears before she could even see him. He walked in with a frown, but stopped to hold the door open for his wife. “Told you I don’t like the boy.”

Harry looked at his feet and took a step to the side, getting away from the entrance.

“You never like them, Walter,” Mrs. Jones replied with her sweet and shaky voice, walking slowly right behind him. “You’re being worse than—Oh.”

As soon as the woman met Lia’s eyes, she curled her lips into a sweet, wrinkled and excited smile.

“Good night, sweetheart! Didn’t see you there!”

“How?” the man muttered, closing the door while his wife walked a few more tiny steps forward. “They’re standing right in the way!”

Mrs. Jones kept smiling and rolled her eyes, waving her quivering hand in the air.

“Forgive my husband. He finds pleasure in being rude. And grumpy."

Lia forced a polite chuckle out of her mouth, aware that the few hours she’d spent with them over the weekend had been enough to reveal how behind the grumpiness there was a very funny and very caring man.

“‘M just telling the truth,” Mr. Jones muttered again. “Are they or are they not in the way?”

“Of course they aren’t, Walter.” Mrs. Jones dragged her feet through the lobby, right towards Lia and Harry’s direction. “There’s more than enough space for all of us to stand here.”

“But I don’t want to stand here, Mora. I want to go upstairs.”

“You can go ahead if you want. I still need to check the mail.”

Lia stepped backwards, giving the elder lady more room to cross between them and get to the mailboxes.

Mr. Jones grunted at the same time Harry sighed, and Lia pressed her lips together to hold herself back from laughing—or even smiling.

“I finished the scarf we started the other day,” Mrs. Jones said. “You should drop by for some coffee and see the result.”

Lia nodded. “Of course. This weekend, maybe?”

“Sounds good, dear. Do you like apple pie?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll make some, then.”

Mrs. Jones was sweet, she truly was. But as much as Lia didn’t want to admit, they were the worst neighbors that could’ve shown up at the lobby and interrupted them. Because she knew how unhurriedly they lived their lives, and she knew how long it could take them to finally go upstairs.

Besides, she didn’t think they were even aware they had interrupted something, so she also didn’t think they were aware that their presence was holding a conversation back.

Mrs. Jones hummed to herself while finally going through the same mailbox she opened everyday, and Harry cleared his throat.

When Lia looked at him, she found his eyes already watching her. He stood with his hands still inside of his pockets, but the previous softness on his face had been replaced by a clenched jaw and lips pressed together into a line.

“I think I should go back,” he said.

“Oh. O-okay.”

“Yeah. This isn’t—”

“Walter, look!” Mrs. Jones blurted out. “We got another grocery coupon!”

Harry shut his mouth, rolled his eyes, and looked up at the ceiling.

“Those sales are garbage,” Mr. Jones mumbled, standing near the stairs.

“Of course they aren’t,” the woman scoffed. “We get some very nice meals out of them.”

She opened the magazine, eying the content on the first two pages.

“Let’s see what we find today,” she added. “Maybe they’ve got some apples. For my apple pie.”

“Ugh. I wanna go upstairs, Mora…”

Harry rolled his shoulders and faced Lia again, instantly locking his green eyes with hers.

He looked frustrated, or maybe annoyed, and somehow she understood the feeling. Because she was frustrated, too—she didn’t want Harry to leave yet, and she more than definitely didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spend a few more minutes with him, or to listen to what else he could have to say.

So whilst he had been interrupted, she had been denied the opportunity to be around him. And all she could think about was how much she wanted for him to stay around. How much she wanted to keep listening to him, and how much she wanted for him to keep talking to her.

Lia’s fingers twitched, and her heartbeat sped up.

She loosened up the grip of her fists, opening and closing her hands a few times. Then, still stuck inside of his green eyes, she took a deep breath in through her nose, licked her lips and voiced quietly, “We can… I mean… Do you want to go upstairs? We can talk there… Y’know, if you want to.”

Harry widened his eyes.

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah. But it’s fine if you have to go. I just… I mean…”

“Upstairs sounds great.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

Lia nodded, too.

She didn’t give herself time to think about what her words could imply.

She couldn’t allow herself to think about what Harry being inside her apartment would mean, because if she did, she would send him away.

And after everything she’d been through, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever forgive herself if she just sent him away.

— — — — —

The walk upstairs was awfully silent, but Lia didn’t know what she could say to him. She wasn’t good at small talk, and she didn’t want to be the one to bring up their previous conversation. So she distracted herself by fidgeting with her keys, cursing when she dropped them, and blushing when Harry picked them up for her.

“Shit.”

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Those were the only words they spoke, then everything went silent again.

Breathless and with a pounding heart, Lia couldn’t tell if it was from walking too many flights of stairs or from the fact that she was about to take Harry inside of her apartment.

The moment she didn’t give herself to think before inviting him, hit her between the first and second floor, and it was only downhill from then on.

What was wrong with her?

What was she even thinking?!

Well, actually she wasn’t thinking. Of course. That had been the whole point, right? She didn’t think, because if she did, she wouldn’t have invited him. She knew she wouldn’t. Of course she wouldn’t! Because she shouldn’t have!

How could she be so freaking stupid?

It’s just… She didn’t even know him! And in the few and short interactions they’d shared in the past several months, he had been nothing but rude and unfairly mean to her.

So, yeah, that was such, such a terrible idea!

She’d just spent days—weeks—deeply regretting sharing her insecurities with him. Pondering about how it was time to finally move on and forget about that crush. And yet there she was again: about to let Harry burst another one of her tiny bubbles. About to open up the front door of her tiny apartment and let him in; then turn on the lights and allow him to see the insides of her safest and most personal space.

So, so stupid!

Lia reached the landing before the last set of steps and exhaled slowly, letting the air out of her mouth as if she could also release all the tension out of her body.

They were almost there.

It was getting real. It was about to happen.

And she’d have to deal with the situation.

There was no going back anymore.

Or, well…

Maybe there was, but…

Did she really want to go back?

No. Of course she didn’t.

She lifted her arm and pointed her keys ahead, aiming at the second door.

“We’re—” Her voice faltered, and heat spread through her cheeks. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “We’re here.”

She walked forward, then focused on putting the key in the lock without trembling. Once she succeeded, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, then reached for the switch and turned the light on.

“Sorry for the mess,” she said, hanging her keys on the wall.

Lia wasn’t a messy person, but she hadn’t bothered with cleaning up her apartment in the last two days.

In her defense, though, she wasn’t expecting any guests. Wednesday or not, people never showed up at her place out of nowhere. She didn’t invite anyone she didn’t feel comfortable with, and those who visited knew her well enough to always give her a heads up.

Two things Harry hadn’t done.

He seemed an exception to absolutely everything in her life so far.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said. He kept his distance, but still stood close enough for her to feel his presence behind her. “You should see my place.”

There was a playful scoff at the end of his sentence, and Lia knew he was only being polite by insinuating how messier his own place was, but still, the prospect of visiting Harry’s home made her insides twinkle.

She had absolutely no idea where he lived, or who he lived with—was it a house? An apartment? Did he live with his family? Did he have any roommates? Did he live by himself? Did he have any pets?

Did he have a girlfriend?

Harry had never given Lia the chance for her to ask anything about his life. He had never given her the chance to get to know him.

If he had, Lia liked to believe she would’ve been brave enough to ask him everything she always wanted to know about him—about his family, his hobbies, his childhood, and even about his dreams.

He had an accent, so was she correct by assuming he was British? Was his family from there, too? Why did he leave the UK? Did he have any siblings, or was he an only child? Did he see them often? If not, did he miss them?

“It’s really nice here,” Harry said.

“Um… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “It’s a good place to live, I guess.”

Up on the fourth floor, her rented apartment wasn’t big, nor fancy. To be honest, she’d always found everything about the place normal and simple, which felt more than enough for her. The space was limited, but it had never felt cramped. A living room and an open-concept kitchen, with only a counter setting the limits between them, and then a tiny hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom.

And that was it. That was all she had to offer.

“You should… I mean,” Lia said, walking further into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, and all that…”

She walked past the coffee table and the messy remains of her laziness from the night before. After the dark gray counter, she rubbed both hands against her jeans, then turned another light on. Just at the same time, the front door clicked, and she jumped around.

Harry stood awkwardly by the dark wood, his hands hidden inside of his pockets, just like before.

“Sorry.” She leaned her side against the end of the counter. “I’m not… I’m not used to having people over, so… I’m not good at this.”

Harry shrugged, curling his lips up just slightly. “I think you’re doing great.”

Lia snorted and looked down at her feet, then crossed her arms under her chest. “Sure.”

“Look, about the—”

“Who’s at the bar?” She blurted out. “Shouldn’t you be there?”

“Uh, yeah… I should, but Sagey is there. She’s covering for me.”

Lia nodded.

“Right.”

Sagey.

The way the nickname for his coworker rolled so easily out of his tongue made her want to crawl into his arms. It screamed affection, and trust, and for a moment she envied the fact that someone could so easily be part of his life.

She closed her eyes for a second, then looked over her shoulder and back to the kitchen.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. Actually—”

“Tea?”

“I—”

“You’re British, right?” She faced him again. “Do you really drink tea or is that just a myth?”

Harry tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips, watching her. And then, after a moment, he just dropped his head down and chuckled.

The joyful, beautiful, and yet discreet sound that came out of his mouth was unexpected, and it once again made Lia’s heartbeat get faster and louder.

“I am British, yeah,” Harry finally said, then looked up at her. The remains of a smile still dancing through his lips. “But I’m good, thank you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Maybe some other time, though?”

The chances of her and Harry ever meeting at her apartment again didn’t seem likely, let alone for them to have a coffee or tea together. But she wouldn’t tell him that.

Instead, she nodded, and looked down at her feet. “Sure. Another time.”

“Good. Now, do you have any other questions, drinks to offer, or…”

Lia widened her eyes and darted her sight back to him.

She had been rambling a lot, hadn’t she? Not letting him talk and interrupting with awkward and stupid questions and… Shit.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head and straightening up her body. That had been so rude of her! “Really, I… I didn’t mean to keep interrupting you. Sorry.”

“C’mon, it’s fine,” Harry said, taking a step forward and closer to the couch. “I’m just teasing you.”

“It’s just... I’m—I’m nervous, I think? I mean, usually when I’m nervous I just shut up? So I don’t… I don’t really know why I can’t stop talking right now, but... Maybe... I don’t know. I guess… I guess this is a different kind of ’nervous’? I mean… I don’t… Yeah. I—I don’t know. Sorry. Shit. I’ll just shut up now. Sorry.”

She chuckled, but quickly regretted it, letting the sound fade in the silent air around them. It felt awkward, as if she was forcing the fun out of her body. And maybe she truly was, because she didn’t feel like laughing—she just thought it would be polite to do so. That it would be better if she looked happy, instead of insecure. Or nervous. Or sad.

“Lia, I don’t…” Harry looked down, took a deep breath in, and shook his head. When he met her eyes again, his tone—along with his actions—was clearly softer, careful. Almost afraid. “Look, I’m the only one who should be apologizing here. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? And I am sorry Lia, I really am. Those things you said the other night were—"

“It’s okay.” Lia shook her head and stepped towards the couch. “Like I said, I really don’t want to talk about any of the things I said.”

She grabbed the blanket she’d left there the night before, wrapping it as best as she could and holding it onto her chest.

“But I—”

“Those were very personal things for me to share okay? And I just— Please… I mean… I can’t—I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok. Yes. Of course. I shouldn’t… I don’t want to force you to talk about it. I just need to make sure you know how sorry I am for making you feel that way. Because I really am.”

Shit.

She turned around, dropping the cozy and warm fabric on the armchair.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, c’mon. I was out of line and shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Lia sighed.

What did he want her to say?

Yes, he’d hurt her, but she was trying to move on. So relieving the whole situation wouldn’t help her.

Besides, it wasn’t Harry’s fault if she didn’t know how to talk or interact with people.

“Lia…” he called.

She dropped her arms to her sides, then turned to face him once again.

She really didn’t want to talk about it.

“Can you please let it go? It’s just… I shouldn’t have said anything. And I’m really embarrassed about the whole thing.”

He hid his hands inside his pockets and shrugged.

“I’m embarrassed, too. Acted like a proper… What was it? Oh right, like an asshole.”

Lia’s mouth curled up into a smile, and she bit her bottom lip to hold it back.

Despite the embarrassment, a part of her felt proud of herself for calling him out that night. Both nights. Standing up to people was really hard for her. She almost never cursed out loud, nor disrespected people in any way, so calling Harry an asshole—more than once—had felt like crossing a bridge.

Still, it didn’t mean she thought it was a nice thing to do. Or that he couldn’t have found it offensive.

“Sorry… For calling you an asshole.”

Harry curled one side of his mouth up. “I totally deserved it.”

There was a playful tone in his voice, but the way he was suddenly looking at her made it impossible for Lia to react.

Dark green irises fixed on her, they drifted all over her face.

Even standing on opposite sides of the living room, Harry focused on her in a way he hadn’t focused before. Giving her all of his attention. As if he was studying her every detail. Or as if he had never seen her before. Or as if he was mapping every left and right to remember a path he’d trail later in time.

To be honest, it would be difficult for Lia to explain, but something about his stare made her stomach flutter. It caused a flush of shyness to spread from her shoulders to her neck, and all over her face.

At the same time, though, his gaze comforted her. It made her feel like he was trying his best to be gentle to her. It made her feel like he was being honest with her. Like he somehow cared for her.

“Shit,” Harry murmured, breaking the moment and looking down to his pants. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, staring at the screen as it flashed between his fingers. “It’s Sagey.”

Oh.

He sighed, yet didn’t make any effort to act on it.

“I should go back.”

Lia cleared her throat, then crossed her arms under her chest.

“Right. Of course.”

“I wouldn’t, but…”

“You have to work.”

“Yeah.”

Time froze as they silently looked at each other.

It felt exciting, even though at moments it took everything inside her not to run away from the intensity of his gaze.

“Sagey is still getting used to everything,” he suddenly added. “And I know she can handle it, but I don’t wanna leave her by herself for too long. Can be kind of hectic sometimes.”

Lia shrugged, pulling her lips into the most genuine smile she could find inside her. “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

“I know, yeah. I just…”

Harry looked down, and Lia tilted her head to the side.

What, Harry?

You just... What?!

He sighed.

“You believe I’m sorry, right?”

Lia didn’t have to force a smile after his words—it came out naturally as she nodded.

“I do, yes.”

“Ok. Good.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the door. “I’ll get going, then.”

“Right. Let me open the door for you.” Lia walked around the coffee table, as fast and as far away from him as she could.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind the fact that she wasn’t going to walk him downstairs—she didn’t think she would be able to handle any more awkward conversations with him.

Harry followed her lead, taking a few steps closer to the door before he cleared his throat.

“You should come by tonight… If you’re free, of course.”

As she opened the door, Lia furrowed her brows. She stepped aside, then faced him again.

Harry chuckled, shrugging lightly and walking outside.

“To the bar, I mean. Feel like I owe you a drink.”

Oh…

Lia rested her temple against the frame, half-smiling at him. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yeah, I do. For being rude to you.”

“Harry, stop. I—”

“Look,” he said, raising both hands in the air and showing his palms to her, “all I’m offering you is a free drink. That’s all, ok? No pressure.”

There was no way she was going to walk into the bar that night, or any other any time soon. But he didn’t need to know that, so Lia bit back a smile, and nodded.

“Okay. Sure. Thank you, then.”

“Ok.” Harry smiled. “Great. Then… I guess I’ll… Well…”

“Yes?”

“Bye, Lia.”

“Bye, Harry.”

“Have a good night.”

Lia chuckled. “Thanks. You too.”

“See you soon.”

“See you.”

“Bye.”

“Goodbye, Harry.”

“Actually…”