#i nearly forgot i did this last year ah man

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 7)

Older!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: A little itty bitty smudge of angst, fluff. Miguel into espectator mode. Tiny bit of jealousy if you squint. Relationship buiding, Slow burn, friends to lovers, tiny bit of Nerdy Miguel

Summary: Getting to know Miguel is as rewarding as a double edge weapon.

Special Thanks to my beta readers @tojismommymilkers00 <3

Pt. 8 Masterlist

The warm touch on your shoulder had lingered a second longer as Miguel said his goodbyes to you.

"Try to get some sleep." He'd mumble with a soft nod, "Goodnight, guapa"

"Goodnight, Miguel."

You couldn't help but look at the shelf with a little smile. A rather pleasant surprise to your aching and bleeding self. A flurry of thoughts came to your mind.

What made him apologize? was the biggest of them all, still, all you knew was he had made an effort first, and such a thing as apologizing was clearly meaningful to you. There were no bad dreams that hunted you tonight. ---------

Miguel's eyes drooped in exhaustion, the triumph over your distress made him close his lids and savor the victory for a moment. Apologizing surely was something he had been doing for quite some years, but that didn't mean it had gotten any easier.

Misunderstandings were just another part of his life, and if he deemed them problematic enough, he'd assess them. Some solved themselves most of the time, but again, a new lesson was learned thanks to you. Communication always leads to better places.

He drove home, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. No more nightmares came to plague him. ---- Your morning started on the right foot, you found Hobie and exchanged some pleasantries with him, promising to give a little treat for his support back at his shop. Then went to work.

The job was rather easygoing, another day of making people's dreams come true, another day of taking pictures in the company's studio for you to work your magic later.

Bloomsearch had grown, you'd notice a couple of new people that were part of another team. Fingers crossed your workload would be less. After the pictures were taken, you did a bit of editing until your lunch break came.

It hadn't been five minutes since you started eating your salad when your phone buzzed, nearly choking at the name displaying on your screen. Miguel was calling.

"H-Hello?"

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Not really, I'm on lunch break. Just surprised actually"

"Hm? Ah..." He chuckled and there was a little shuffling on his line, "Yeah figured it was better to just call instead of texting."

"You really hate texting that much?"

"I just forget, and wouldn't want to repeat the little stunt we did"

"Right, uhm-"

"What about at four thirty?"

"Hm?"

"After work, to... Julien's Spells"

You giggled "It's Julien's Potions . But yeah, four thirty sounds perfect"

"Well, ahí nos vemos ."

"What?"

"See ya."

"So rude!"

"That's what it means, guapa." A little chuckle.

"Oh... Yeah you forgot I know a peep about spanish."

"Better get learning then"

"Right, right. Nose vemmos "

You butchered the word, he'd probably be hiding his face in his hand out of cringe, but hey, you were trying. ----

Complaints only piled up, thankfully you weren't in the main campaign teams, but your pictures had to be retaken since the client decided on a different packaging at the last minute.

Your name was called by your immediate boss as you were editing. You followed and he took you and your other teammates to a meeting room. Swallowing the sudden anxiousness that took over, you sat nearby the entrance.

Your boss and another elderly man entered the room. He was tall, salt and pepper hair neatly combed to a side, blue eyes that if you look long enough would find something hidden in them. The man was handsome, but something about him flared your mistrust alarms…

He carried himself arrogantly, the way he regarded you all as he entered the room was a bit frightening honestly.

"This is Julius DeSantis, our new Graphic Arts Division Manager."

"Nice to meet you all. As you may know the company is expanding-"

His voice was deep, some of your teammates couldn't help but ogle him, his white hair kind of reminded you the patches of silvery strands in your father's head, his neat lock shaped beard that encaged a pair of thin yet refined lips, reminded you of the Mall Santa's man true identity.

The meeting was over, a pair of icy blue eyes trailing on you for a brief moment.

Of course the talks of how attractive the man was echoed through your section of cubicles.

The I wouldn't mind him talking down at me , along with more of he's such a dilf! And such straightforward as I'd ride him, made you chuckle at the sudden memory of your classmates saying the exact things about Miguel.

Guys in general were a little known territory for you. Of course you'd had little boyfriends here and there, You had one in your freshman year of college but you'd barely see each other to the point you weren't sure that you were still a thing anymore. And then another in your sophomore year that dropped college to chase a dream in another country.

The only one that had met the little yet honest list of standards you had for a guy so far.

You didn't know if it was the weather getting colder as the year slowly crawled towards its end that made you a bit wistful, or the sudden little changes that added as your life went on. But your mood has certainly improved a little since yesterday.

A little sadness remained in the furthest and darkest corners of the mood shelf, hoping to not be noticed.

Four o'clock ticked and you picked up your things, checked out and went for your car. Nervous fingers dialed a certain geneticist, hesitating for a moment to actually reach back, but how would he know where the place was? Because it wasn't registered on the GPS map yet.

Silly girl.

You dialed, it rang a couple of times before his deep voice erupted from the other line.

" Aló? " (Hello)

"Uh... I will send you the location of the parking lot I'll be in."

"Alright, salgo en cinco." (Coming out in five) "Okay?. Bye"

Your mouth exhaled, but you were proud. Concise and precise.

------

You were the first to arrive, and waited inside your car, a black mini Cooper you had bought in an auction for half the price. A little repairs and restores here and there and it was brand new for you.

You scrolled through social media in the meantime, fetching ideas for your hobbies. A few ideas for your own photoshoots and knitting techniques that surely seemed easier than the current one you were trying

Around twenty minutes later, A red Nissan Pathfinder parked in the opposite row you were. An all too familiar car that made your brain flood with memories you thought buried for good.

Miguel stepped out of his car and looked around but frowned upon not seeing anyone. His lab coat was left abandoned on his passenger seat, he wore an olive green button shirt and a deeper shade of green pants, polished black shoes, of course a belt that always accentuated his waist and to your surprise a pair of sunglasses.

You stepped out of your car as he was calling.

"Hey"

His frowning softened upon seeing you.

"Hola, guapa"

"Ready for a walk?"

"Hm? Thought it was closer"

"It's fine, it's just a couple of blocks away. C'mon."

You gestured for him to follow you. You had gone for a black knitted long sleeved Maxi dress and boots. The belt around your waist only added enough seasoning for your curves to pop out. His eyes fell on your waist and a bit lower just to trail on the road ahead. Your perfume guided him through the streets, a soft yet delicious smell of sweet summer cherries.

He stopped you when you intended to cross a street. Nueva York Streets were always bustling with people. His arm before you, shielded you from any intrusion in your personal space, a new wave of people pushed you further and further away from him. His hand however took a gentle hold of your wrist and pulled you closer.

"Agárrate" (Hold on)

You didn't have to know Spanish on this one to understand that he was instructing you to hold on his arms. Your hand squeezed through his arm and secured it as you kept guiding him through the streets.

You couldn't help but sigh in relief and give a little squeal when you stopped before your little treasure.

"We're here."

Your arm let him go and opened the door for him. The outside layout only allowed him to have a little peek into the bar. It turned clearer as he walked in. A little wind chime echoed, announcing your presence.

Some of the tables were occupied, the assistants glanced briefly before attending their own business. Miguel’s face was sure a treat. His eyes scanned through the place, face contorting in confusion, wonder and of course some resignation.

"Welcome, travelers. Allow me to get you a place." The waiter guided you to a more private stall, away from the people and gave your respective menu charts.

"Thanks."

Pearly painted nails raked over the plastic menu, as he examined his.

"You've been here, what would you recommend?"

"I liked the mango muffin and the red berries cold brew. But they have more elaborate dishes if you're hungry."

You both ordered, he went for the 'Tavern's Special Panini' and a cold iced tea. He had a good appetite.

"How was your day?"

You both chuckled as you spoke in unison.

"Ladies first."

"Right. Nothing new to report except I've got a new division boss. Everyone is... swooning for him."

"How so?"

"A dilf, according to my coworkers"

"And according to you?"

"Uh, sure, attractive, but... ever feel that weird feeling upon meeting someone?"

"It's called anxiety."

You scoff. "Oh trust me, I know about it. And it's more like a "I don't trust him sort of feeling."

"Isn't that a bit prejudiced coming from you?"

"Maybe, but I'm trusting my gut. Besides, sure, older men are something else, but I'm not into that much of an age gap."

He chuckled and leaned on his chair.

You rolled your eyes. "But enough on me. How was yours?"

"The usual, people complain but at least this time we got something done. So, it wasn't that bad."

"Glad to hear so."

After a couple of minutes your food was brought to the table and he didn't waste a single second trying it. You snapped a picture of him after taking the first bite of his panini with a giggle.

"That good, huh?"

"Delete it"

"No. I actually like it."

You showed him the picture and he huffed with a roll of his eyes.

"Can I keep it?"

"No."

"Pleaseee?"

"...Fine." 

You chuckled and saved it. "Thank you" You dug into your muffin, enjoyment plastered all over your face.

"This kind of reminds me of something"

"What exactly?"

His eyes turned a bit serious and your lips pursed. "If it's something embarrassing, I'll share one to make it even."

He seemed to consider for a second and exhaled.

"Dungeons and Dragons..." He breathed.

Your eyes went wide then smirked "I'm sorry but that's the most unexpected thing I've ever heard you say."

"I was young once too."

"And a nerd , apparently."

You chuckled but stifled a laugh as he deadpanned.

"I met Peter there."

"Wait... Peter? As in Mr. Peter B. Parker?!"

"You sound surprised."

"Of course I am! Cause you're totally opposites!"

"And?"

"You played with him? "

"And many others, good kind of fun."

You both went silent.

"That sounded...so very wrong." 

He swatted your head gently and you snorted. 

"My god. This feels like getting classified information from a dangerous source."

He chuckled and continued eating, just like you.

"Please tell me that you have pictures of that."

"No."

"Dammit."

You put a hair strand behind your ear. Conversation slowly spreading through many topics. You'd learn that his favorite color was white, red and blue. That his coffee worked better with the least amount of sugar possible. And that he liked sweet bread, something called 'conchas'. He had a sweet tooth. Flan and Tres Leches are his favorites.

Your eyes came fixed on the little soccer ball keychain attached to his car keys. The edges were faded, some of the enamel had worn out. A little smudged outline of a couple of words you couldn't make out since his large hand covered the resin back.

"I didn't know you were into soccer."

His face turned devoid of all emotion for a moment, muscles rigid, jaw clenched and eyes casted at the keychain.

He knew the trinket and the words on it like the back of his hand, like the algorithm he had been working on.

'Number One Papa!' Scribbled in an infant like penmanship with a sharpie, a too round heart next to the last 'a'.

His eyes turned into something you couldn't exactly pinpoint, but it wasn't good. Hand held the little aluminum thing tighter, his thick and mildly labored breaths made you clear your throat, snapping his attention to you. A chill ran down your spine  but words managed to come out your mouth

"I'd love to try some aerial dance."

As stupid as the comment was, he had turned his gears into a different direction.

"Hm?"

"Or dance."

"What's stopping you?"

"I have the movement of a sessile organism." You pinched your fingers together at 'organism, earning a chuckle from him. Amused at your attempt to be science-y.

"Can't be that bad."

"I was the tree in a school play because I moved like them…"

He had to hold back an ugly snort, harder to contain as your brows scrunched.

"Oh c'mon I shared my embarrassing moment! What's yours?"

He took a moment to recover before he cleared his throat. "I was afraid of horses."

You cocked your head "Oh?"

"That's all I'm saying."

You giggled and nodded. "Alright."

The conversation died as you both finished your meals. The sight of a green smudge on his right cheek had caught your attention for a little too long.

"Uh, you have-" Your hands gesture on your cheek, he touched the wrong one, completely missing your cue.

"Open your hand."

He does and you grab it to point at the green sauced smeared area with his fingertips. Your hand, small and elegant against his.

"Why didn't you just wipe it off?"

"Because I don't know if you like having your personal space invaded."

His eyebrow quivered with a mildly amused grimace.

"We've fucked before and you now worry over personal space?"

You sighed at his bluntness. "Just because we did means it's alright to invade people's personal space."

" Como gustes, supongo " (As you like, I guess)

He shrugs.

"How's the shelf going?"

"Sturdy and holding up as it should. Thanks for helping me with it."

"Not a problem."

You clasp your hands together abruptly. "OK, wanna play something?" "Like?"

"Questions."

"Quite curious you are. Aren't we already playing then?"

"Well, I am meeting new people and trying to make new friends, remember? And now that I actually think about it, I didn't know much about you, until today. But, if you are uncomfortable sharing things, it's fine."

" La curiosidad te va a matar, gatita" (Curiosity will kill you, kitten)

"Again, not a peep on spanish"

"Good."

He smirked and gestured for you to continue, indulging you this once.

"What's something new you have recently learned?"

"Some plants react well to blood."

Okay you definitely weren't expecting that. "Uh... what?"

He laughed silently at your alarmed reaction.

"An experiment back in the lab."

"I'm kinda concerned as to what kind of things you actually do for a living"

"You'd be surprised."

"Why genetics though?"

He shrugs.

"Pays well and basically you're paid to fuck around to find out."

"Yeah, I kinda wanna be a geneticist now."

He chuckles

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why knitting?"

"It's calming. Even though I can't get a technique right and it's costing me a lot of yarn. Anyways, last book you read?"

"Not a book precisely but more like a long ass report about an upcoming research. You?"

"Just finished Camille."

" La Dama de Las Camelias? " (The Lady of The Camellias?)

"I... guess? But yeah. I cried, but absolutely loved it."

"You think that Margarita did the right thing?" His arms lean on the wooden chair's arms, waiting for your reply.

"There are many questionable things she does. But if by the right thing you're meaning her giving up Armand's love so his sister could be happily married? No. I don't"

"Why not?"

"Because... She was about to die. She didn't have much time left. She should have enjoyed her love till the very end."

"Hopeless romantic, aren't you?" "I'm a sucker for tragic romances. But it actually surprises me you know the book."

"A gift, really. I'm not usually into pink novels, but gotta give Dumas some credit. Armando is such... a relatable character."

"Strong willed and quite stubborn?" Reminds me of someone."

"Ouch." "I really hated Armand towards the end though"

"He didn't know about the deal."

"Still! I don't understand that... pathological need to get revenge. He had such a fragile ego." 

"A proud man that has done almost the impossible to conquer a famous courtesan, that does little to nothing in keeping him in the shadows?"

"Hey, Marguerite spoke clearly to him ever since the begining! But he was too... possessive and impulsive."

"Last bit reminds me of someone"

He said as he poked his ear, you gasped playfully.

"At least it was a piercing and not a letter saying awful things or using a friend to make Marguerite jealous."

"I don't justify nor condone his actions, but Armando deserved the truth."

"On that we can agree. Keeping such a thing from him was terrible."

"What would you do if someone pulled a Margarita on you?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"Their excuse. Some things can't be said right away or face to face because they might be too much to digest. But there are things that can be said on the spot."

His eyes twinkled in amusement as his eyes widened softly at your response.

"Still. It's not that easy"

"I never said it was. They didn't communicate properly and that's how they ended up like they did."

"Communication is key to you?"

"Of course it is!. I mean, I might not have as much experience in relationships, but nothing can't work without communication. Not even friendships."

" Cierto, cierto."  (true that) He nodded with a small smile.

"I didn't expect this"

"What exactly?"

"Having fun."

"Are you calling me a bore?"

You snorted. "No. Just... feels different. The first time felt like an obligation. I know you said it wasn't, but I couldn't help but feel like it was."

His eyebrow quirked. 

"And this one feels different. It's fun."

"You looked out of yourself, yesterday. It was odd."

"Odd?"

"You're usually all... like that." He gestured at your clothes, "Pretty. Perfect." It was your turn to frown and cast away your eyes from him.

"I hate that word, y'know?"

"Pretty?"

"Perfect."

"Why?"

"You'd have to tell me something really personal too in exchange."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. You sensed an impending tension so you broke it, clearning your throat. "But I think we've shared enough for today."

He nodded, and you smiled softly.

"Thanks for your concern though. Ready to go?"

"Sure."

"Wait. I'll pay for my-"

His hands stopped yours and he shook his head. " Déjame ." (Allow me.)

"What?"

"You really need to start learning spanish."

"Seems so."

"Consider this my apology."

"B-But you gave me macarons yesterday"

"Still, it seems like a last minute idea for an apology. This is better"

A soft blush crept your cheeks and you couldn't help but nod. "Really appreciated." 

-----

You had gotten a little muffin box for Hobie and his mom, and another one for yourself.

You walked next to Miguel, silence stretched between you both but this time it wasn't awkward or discomfiting, after all you had spoken, it seemed only right. It was comforting even. Knowing a bit more of himself surely offered a new perspective on what made him Miguel.

Your thoughts however were interrupted by your name being called, both couldn't help but turn at the source.

A man, late twenties, athletic looking, kind face with short and styled to a side hair and a mild stubble approached you with a bedazzling smile.

Miguel instantly turned his spectator mode on, and let everything unfold before him.

You held the muffin boxes in one hand as the mystery man hugged you.

"Simon!" Your voice seemed more surprised than anything, as you hugged the young and attractive man with a little fondness plastered in your face.

"Look at you! So... different."

Miguel cringed inwardly as he stepped away from the both, but the hazel eyes from the young man stared at him.

"Oh... didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. Really. This is Miguel O'Hara."

"Friend." Miguel mumbled as he stretched his hand a bit rougher than intended.

"Right. Simon Morvan." He let his hand go

"Thought you'd stay abroad."

"Oh that... heh. No. Sure it was fun but I like it here better" He smiled and you returned it.

"You're staying?"

"Possibly, yeah."

"Nice."

"Mind if I get your number?"

"Sure do."

Miguel noticed that Simon input his phone number into your phone. Giving you the absolute power of a further interaction with him.

"See you then, gotta go. It was nice to see you again, cherie ."

"Same, take care, Si."

You both watched Simon go and then smiled at Miguel. He just chuckled as you made your way back to your respective cars. You gave him a mango muffin and went home. You gave Hobie the little box and greeted his mom in the process. ----

"Thanks for today, it was fun. Sorry for the sudden interruption, though"

Phone rested on your cheek, body tucked under the sheets as you both talked.

" It was interesting seeing you interact with someone else ."

"You say it like you and Hobie are my only friends."

" Isn't that the truth?" He chuckle and you groaned, mildly annoyed

"You're mean. But yeah. It's true. Didn't know you thought of me as a friend."

" And that is?"

"Good. I'm glad to know you think I am reliable."

" You are, guapa."

"Damn, just remembered, might as well start re-learning french."

" How come?"

"Simon is French"

" No mames, qué cliché " (No fucking way, how cliché)

"I certainly understood the last thing, don't be rude!"

" Spanish first, French later.""In order of arrival."

" Spanish first, trust me."

He pressed and you nodded with a yawn.

"Okay, okay. Goodnight, Miguel"

" Descansa, hermosa." (rest well)

------

taglist:

@jkthinkstoomuch @queenofroses22 @del-lightfulling @katitakenway @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplumpurin @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann @tatatida @incustellar @taeecups @vonev

[zeruby16]

what you did last summer- seok matthew

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: after your memorable summer with matthew, you thought you would never see him again. so what happens when taerae introduces you to him for a second time?

word count: 2.9 k

warnings: afab! reader, dom matthew; usage of pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); cursing; oral sex (receiving); fingering; penetration; unprotected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; slight sir kink; slight exhibitionism; please let me know if i missed any

notes: i did not grammar check this, so please have mercy. i literally wrote this super fast because i had to get the idea fully out of my brain. hope you enjoy!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

when romance novels would state how time ‘froze’ and the only people in the room were themselves and the love interest, you called bullshit.

there was no way everyone would suddenly disappear. it would make you look stupid wouldn’t it?

you hoped it didn’t because when matthew walked into your family’s restaurant while you were hanging out with your friends, all you could see was him.

how was he here? how did he get here?

“earth to y/n,” taerae called, waving his hands in front of your face. you flinched and closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gain your composure.

“what happened?”

“i wanted to introduce you all to matthew,” taerae gestured towards your friend group.

unbeknownst to taerae, you already knew matthew.

you really knew him.

“a-ah, nice to meet you matthew. i’m y/n,” you bowed your head as you shook his hands.

the hands that touched all your weak spots over the summer. the hands you itched for since you left your grandmother’s hometown.

matthew failed to hide his little smirk, “nice to meet you too y/n.” his eyes immediately passed over yours as taerae introduced the rest of the friend group.

his smirk scared you. whenever matthew felt devious, he didn’t hide it. in fact, he thrived on torturing you.

the last time you saw matthew you had left him alone.

on his bed.

after he nearly fucked the soul out of you.

your summer with matthew in simple terms was dangerous.

you had been the perfect daughter anyone could ask for. you did whatever your parents told you to, you helped out your grandmother every summer, you went to church every sunday, you were an angel until you met him.

seok matthew worked at your grandmother’s local flower shop. he offered to help you pick flowers for your grandmother and you thanked him, promising to go to the shop again. 

then, you went again and again and again. his presence was addicting. he showed interest in any little thing you mentioned, he helped your grandmother, his smile radiated joy, and he was anything you could ask for in a man.

the thing was whenever you two were alone, he ravished you. his kisses left marks, his touch made your skin burn with desire, you longed for him.

he made you break all your own rules, but you couldn’t help but go back to him every night. 

time flew by and your final night with matthew came, but he didn’t know. as far as he knew, you were a new local who moved in with her grandmother.

you cried as you slept with him, held onto him knowing it was your last time seeing him, and left before the sun could rise, catching your flight in the morning.

it wasn’t until you landed back home and your grandmother messaged you about the ‘pretty boy’ that you realized you fell for him.

matthew allowed you to be the person you wanted to be. someone who could break the rules without consequences. someone who could live freely without the pressure on their shoulders.

the someone you were though, wasn’t the person your family knew and you had to leave that person with matthew along with your love for him.

you mourned him. you had lost the one person you genuinely loved and he probably hated you now, but you lived your life.

you started your senior year of college, caught up with taerae and your friends, and forgot about matthew.

at least, you tried.

“matthew used to live in the neighborhood until he moved away. he decided to come here for his last year of college,” taerae explained, while you brushed your thoughts of matthew away.

“where did you live, matthew?” woongki asked.

once matthew mentioned your grandmother’s village, taeare looked at you stunned.

“weren’t you there in the summer?” you tried to focus your gaze anywhere else other than matthew’s eyes.

unfortunately, your mother came delivering the treats you ordered.

“yes she was, she was helping her grandmother with the house. i’ve raised such a good daughter,” she patted your head as you shrugged.

matthew knew this side of you, it wasn’t something out of the ordinary, but he also knew a side of you your mother would never want to hear about.

“okay mom i think they get it,”

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i just want everyone to know how precious you are.”

she left as you looked down towards the floor in embarrassment.

“sorry about that,” 

“it’s no worry y/n, i find it admirable how good you are to your parents,” matthew teased, knowing you would understand his underlying tone.

you started to feel flushed. matthew knew how to turn you into a stuttering mess. he had a way with words and your weakness was his sharp tongue. 

thankfully, none of your friends questioned anything. the hangout was playing out greatly until you caught matthew’s eyes.

your friends were so distracted with their own conversation that they couldn’t see how he checked you out, stared you down, and smirked at your blushing figure. 

your cheeks had to be beet red because when matthew stared at you with his bed eyes, you nearly fainted. 

the room suddenly became hot and you needed new air to breathe, so you excused yourself to the ladies room, avoiding matthew’s eyes at any cost.

a part of you wanted him to follow, but you couldn’t let him.

you paced around the restroom, inhaling and exhaling, reminding yourself how no one knew, and how everything would be fine.

then, he knocked.

he opened the door and locked it behind him.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” you silently yelled.

“what am i doing? no, how are you doing after you stood me up?” he spat out.

“matt, i had to leave. i didn’t-”

“didn’t think it would hurt? well it did, like a bitch, so imagine my surprise when i see you hanging out with one of my oldest friends,”

“taeare never said anything about you,”

“he did about you. he mentioned how smart you were, how your parents raised you to be this angel, how pretty you were, and so much more. do you know what he left out?” matthew asked, backing you into the counter as his arms allowed no room for you to escape.

“what?” you breathed out.

he placed your hair behind your ears as he placed his mouth next to your ear.

“how much of a little slut you are for me,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. 

“but-”

“tell me y/n, do your parents really believe you’re a good girl?”

you couldn’t speak, so you decided to just nod.

“they don’t know about last summer do they?” you closed your eyes, trying to block him out.

“they don’t know how pretty your moans sound, or how gorgeous you look while taking me. they think you’re such this perfect angel, but that’s the last thing you are. isn’t it?” he asked, starting to caress every part of your body from your legs to your neck.

all you could do was deny and deny.

“i need words baby, you aren’t such a good girl are you?” his hands started to bunch up your dress, giving him easier access to your core.

“no,” you barely let out.

“what was that?”

“no!”

“no, what? i need you to be clear sweetheart,”

“no, i’m not a good girl sir,” your body trembled, aching for his touch.

“well then i think you deserve a punishment, yeah?” his face neared your lips and it took every ounce of your soul to not jump on him.

“yes sir,” you nodded and matthew didn’t let a second pass as his lips took yours ferociously. 

you grabbed his arm full of muscle, squeezing it as your relief from the pleasure you felt. 

he took your face roughly and continued to kiss you, inserting his tongue to assert his dominance. 

“i missed this,” he said, taking a break to breathe until he smashed his lips into yours again. your body felt like putty under his and all you could do was touch him.

you reached for his clothed cock, wanting to feel him after going months without him, but couldn’t as one of his hands slapped yours away.

“silly girl, i told you, you’re being punished,” he took your hands and kept them down on the counter with his strong hold. 

he continued to kiss you on your neck as he left some light bruises behind. his hands started to reach over your breasts as he toyed with them. he used the opening of the dress to lift it higher on your body, giving him access to your torso.

this was so wrong.

matthew was giving you everything you wanted and more, at your parents restaurant, in a restroom, with your friends waiting behind. 

the thought of taking him publicly made you even more wet, but it made you feel dirty.

his hands gripped your thighs lifting you onto the counter behind you and inserting himself between your legs.

your body automatically hugged him as you kissed him again, silently begging him to do something. his fingers reached for your underwear and he hissed.

“you’re already wet for me sweetheart. you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” 

“ever since you left, you’ve been aching to be ruined, touched, fucked and only by me right?” he continued and all you could do was nod.

his motions started piling on and on. the light touches of your core, his kisses, the heat in between your body, your body was shivering at the pleasure of it all.

“i need you to answer,” he suddenly walked away from your body, halting all presence of his touch and causing you to whine.

“yes sir,” you immediately rushed, reaching out your arms wanting him in between them again.

“good girl, i think you deserve a reward,” 

his hands suddenly pulled your underwear down, causing you to shiver as your core felt the cold air. he proceeded to lightly touch your clit, pressing on it at times. you grabbed his arm again, trying to steady yourself from his teasing.

his name suddenly became the only word you knew once he plunged a finger into you.

“matthew!” you looked to see his smirk.

if there was one thing matthew loved, it was to see your face contour in bliss. he was making a mess out of you and he enjoyed every second of it.

“i think my baby can take another? right?” you nodded, begging for his fingers, as he immediately inserted another.

his pace fastened as he started to hit your spot lightly, toying with your clit as he did so. 

you were seeing stars. you were nearing your orgasm and matthew wasn’t even shirtless. you tried to snake your hands over his abs under his shirt until his free hand stopped you.

“i said no touching, remember?”

you whimpered as his fingers rammed into you mercilessly.

“please i want to feel you,”

“too bad baby, you lost those privileges.”

he stayed unphased as he held onto your hip, helping you reach your climax.

you breathed his name over and over, closing in on the feeling in your stomach.

then, he stopped.

“no!” 

“you thought i would let you cum so easily?i thought you were smarter than that,” he tutted.

he chuckled at your state. the only thing supporting your body was your arms, the light mascara you had managed to run, and your whines never stopped.

it wasn’t until you looked deeply into his eyes that you realized he wasn’t done.

he squatted in front of you, his eyes meeting the juices of your pussy and smiled at you mischievously. 

you had no time to process what was going on in his head as his tongue met your core.

“oh my fuck-”, you moaned.

your legs tried to close as his tongue teased your clit and his lips kissed your core like it was his last day on earth.

his hands held your legs wide open, only allowing for you to ruin his hair with your needy hands.

“matt, please,” you cried, nearing your orgasm once again. the feeling was stronger, you felt the need to release everything.

your moans and cries became louder, but matthew was satan himself. he pulled away from your core and wiped your juices off of his mouth, smiling contently while he was at it.

you whined again, looking at him pleadingly.

“what happened? my dumb slut can’t take her punishment,” he teased.

“i’ll be good i promise, please just fuck me,” 

he tilted his head playfully and smiled, “and your parents think you’re this perfect angel.”

to your fulfillment, matthew started unzipping his pants and pulled down his boxers. his hard-on immediately sprung up and you leaned forward, trying to reach for his cock once again.

“are you sure?” matthew looked at you, concerned.

you left him last time because you didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak, but now you didn’t want him to leave. you weren’t going to let him go.

“yes, just yes.”

he teased your core with his tip and kissed you as he slowly inserted himself. you moaned in pain, his kisses and light caresses helping your body relax.

“you take me so well baby,” you tightened around him with the praise and he grunted.

“fuck, are you okay?” 

“just move matthew,” 

within seconds, he started thrusting into you slowly, but deeply, hitting your sweet spot every thrust.

“god i missed you,” he groaned as he started to speed up his thrusts.

“so did i,” you whimpered, his head against yours as you closed your eyes in ecstasy. 

matthew took it as a sign to go faster, pounding his hips into yours.

you missed how wonderfully he fucked you, but you also missed matthew in general.

he was attentive and you felt like an open book in front of him. he was someone you trusted and you felt real around him. you weren’t pretending to be like the girl your parents wanted you to be, you were you.

he drove you crazy and he proved it more so when he lifted you off the counter and hugged your body, fucking you deeply.

“matt, fuck-”

“please,” you let out, his hips ramming into you as you cried his name.

he uses the wall as his support to help him pleasure you more, causing your vision to go blurry for a second.

it was all so much, but it was matthew and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“i love you,” he said, looking deeply at you as if you were a miracle.

“i love you too,” your moans became louder as you reached your orgasm for the third time. 

matthew didn’t stop this time, instead he toyed with your bundle of nerves pushing you over the edge.

“matthew!” you nearly screamed, hoping no else heard. 

you knew the restaurant inside and out. the walls had decent insulation, but you lost the ability to think when matthew walked in so it was the least of your worries.

“good girl, you’re such a good girl for me,” his thumb rubbed circles on your waist as he reached his climax, pulling out of you and cumming all over your belly.

he kept his hold on you afterward, letting you down carefully when you told him it was okay.

your legs were done for and putting your underwear back on was probably unsanitary as they were on the floor, but you couldn’t care less because you were with him.

he wet some paper towels with warm water to help, chuckling at the stupidity of the idea until you thanked him for still caring for you. his body stilled and you realized the uncertainties he probably had.

“matt, i meant it when i said i love you. the only reason i left without a word was because i didn’t want to spoil what we had. i didn’t want to leave, but i needed to,” you caressed his cheeks, feeling them lift when he smiled lightly.

“i know you had your reasons, i just wished we tried. it seemed like you had such little faith in our love,”

“and i regret it, but who says we can’t try again,”

matthew’s face brightened, “really?”

“unless you’re going to leave town without telling me then i don’t see why not,” you joked.

he hugged you while lifting you up.

“wait, how are we going to tell taerae?” he suddenly wondered, you scratched your neck embarrassingly.

“well first i am going to pretend to leave by saying i don’t feel good because obviously,” you gestured towards the marks he left.

“i’m sorry love, i just had to let you know how much you mean to me,”

“anyways, tell them you had diarrhea or something, and i will delete the security footage of the hallway for my parent’s eyes,” 

“we should still tell them though,” matthew mentioned, you sighed at the thought.

“y/n, i’m not going to just hook up and go on dates with you without your parents knowing,” he scolded.

“fine, just don’t mention a word about last summer,”

“as if, the only people who will ever know about those nights are you and i.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed! i'm trying to write once a week because i do love writing these, but sometimes my execution fumbles and with classes starting my thoughts jumble even more. thank you for reading though, i appreciate it!

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

[luigisblueoveralls]

First Shower

Luigi x Reader

Summary: After you and Luigi's first time having bedroom fun, you decided you needed to refresh yourselves in the shower.

Notes: SFW, just fluffness and shy but loving Luigi. This is a part 2 to the First Time 🔥 post I did a few days back. Hope you all enjoy!

(F/S)=Favorite Scent

💚

You scurried into the bathroom and turned the shower water on, with Luigi behind you as well. The both of you were both relieving what happened in your minds, and you both enjoyed it so much. It was a perfect first time. You turned back around to see Luigi was already staring at you. He quickly averted his eyes, realizing he was caught peeking at your body.

"Lui, you can stare. I don't mind." You reassured him.

Luigi bashfully chuckled as you checked the water temperature. Perfect. You turned and Luigi was standing there, waiting patiently while having his hands together.

"You ready?" You asked him.

He nodded, with his face covered in a shade of pink. This was definitely a different type of intimacy for Luigi and you can tell he was nervous about it. You stepped in but Luigi didn't follow you in.

"Come on, Lui!" You called for him.

You could hear Luigi take a deep breath in and then out and then he stepped inside the shower with you.

"Oo ah! A little toasty there!" Luigi cried out as soon as the warm water hit his back.

"Oh, it's not that bad." You reassured him.

Once Luigi got used to the water, he got up close to you, your naked chests nearly touching each other.

"You okay?" You asked him since he was flustered pink.

"Yeah, yeah. I am. You're just so beautiful, (Y/N)." Luigi told me.

You couldn't help but blush from his statement.

"So are you." You told him, poking his chest.

Luigi chuckled in response. Luigi was tall and not necessarily skinny. He had some pudge on him, but even then, he was still insecure with his body. He has told you that from the get-go, but you thought he was the most handsome man in the world. You then grabbed some of Luigi's shampoo, squirted some into your hand, and rubbed your hands together.

"Ready?" You asked him.

Luigi nodded as he leaned his down lower for you. You then lathered the shampoo all into his hair, massaging the soap into his scalp and hair. You wanted to make his short, brown locks squeaky clean for your fingers to run through when you are going to sleep. That was his favorite thing to go to sleep to was you running his fingers through your hair. It soothed him and helped him relax. You then took a tiny drop of shampoo and massaged the soap into his mustache, making the both of you giggle.

"Your mustache is so long, but it looks so good on you." You complimented Luigi, making him giggle.

"Does it really? I've always wondered what I would look like without it, but it's become my thing at this point." Luigi said while twirling it.

"Don't ever get rid of it!" You joked while poking him playfully and Luigi laughed in response.

You forgot how ticklish he was, but it was honestly so cute of him. Luigi then backed to under the shower head and rinsed all of the shampoo off of him. As the soap trinkled down his body, you couldn't help but admire him. Y'all have been together for a while now, and you hoped you both had many years to come. Luigi had hints of proposing to you, and you aren't in any rush to do that for you know a ring, wedding, and a honeymoon cost a lot of money. You both have been saving a lot for it and hope that it would be the best day of your lives. Once Luigi got all of the shampoo out, he shook his hair like a dog, and the hair was all in his eyes. You laughed at his antics. He always knew how to make you laugh.

"I think you need a hair trim is what you need." You commented, moving the hair out of his face so you could see his beautiful blue eyes.

"Hm, maybe. I liked how you trimmed my hair last time." Luigi commented, making you smile.

"Maybe I'll do that after we get out." You suggested.

Luigi smiled in response. He loved it when you trimmed his hair. Not only was it free but also cause it was a different bonding experience for the both of you. Sometimes, he lets you trim his mustache, but that was once in a blue moon. You then reached for some body soap and put some into your hand. You lathered your hands in the soap and began massaging his chest, making sure to get good where his the small patch of chest hair that he had. Luigi just watched you intently as you continued to wash his body, as if he was put under a spell. He thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Your personality, your looks, your body, it was all perfect in his eyes. You've been so good to him and being patient with him with his anxiety. You loved dogs while he was terrified of them, but he has welcomed the idea of a small dog into the house soon, maybe a Daschund or a mini Australian Sheppard. Luigi loved animals, and he loved you, so he was willing to try for you. As if you were reading his mind, you asked him this.

"So have you decided on whether you'd want a Daschund or a mini Aussie?"

Luigi shrugged his shoulders.

"Daschunds can be loyal while also stubborn as hell, but mini Aussie's can have big herding tendencies since they are a working breed." You explained to him.

"I think a Daschund would be just fine." Luigi told you, making you happy.

"Okay. We can look at local shelters and see what they have." You suggested.

You then turned Luigi around and started scrubbing his back.

"I'll let you get a cat too." You suggested, wanting to make it fair for him.

You knew Luigi loved cats, and even though you weren't exactly a huge fan of them, albeit you were a dog person, you still liked them and wanted it to be fair for Luigi.

"That would be nice." Luigi said as you finished his back.

He got under the water again to rinse the soap off of him. Once he was finished, he turned to you.

"What?" You asked.

"You're just so pretty. I can't keep my eyes off of you." Luigi complimented you, gazing at you.

He always praised you, and it made you feel so good about yourself. Luigi then grabbed your (F/S) shampoo, put some in his hands, and gently began lathering the soap into your hair. Just feeling his fingers in your scalp made you go into zen mode. It was like he was massaging your brain in a way, and it felt so good to you. It felt that good to you that you ended up leaning your head onto his chest.

"You good?" Luigi asked you, a little caught off guard from your action.

"Yeah." You said, his warm chest soothing you.

Luigi continued to wash your hair until it was completely washed.

"Aw you're done?" You jokingly whined, leaning away from his chest.

Luigi moved you to the shower head and rinsed your hair himself. Your hair felt so clean and refreshing. Luigi then grabbed your favorite body soap and put some of it into his hands. Once he began massaging your body with the soap, you can see his face flushing with pink as he moved down to your breasts, massaging the soap onto them. You giggled at his pink face.

"S-Sorry." Luigi muttered.

"No, no, don't be sorry, Lui. I'm just messing with you." You reassured him.

"Oh, okay." Luigi chuckled as he moved down down to your legs.

He then sat up and moved to your back. He made sure to get every inch of your body. This was such a perfect moment between you two. Once Luigi was finished, he then rinsed your body, just absolutely gazing at you. He then finished and brought you into a warm hug. You immediately hugged him back tightly, feeling his love for you all in that hug.

"I love you, (Y/N)." Luigi told you while rubbing your back.

"I love you too, Luigi." You said back.

You wanted Luigi to be your husband so much. You wanted to have a family with him and grow old together with him. He was the perfect person to do that with. You both stood there hugging each other until the water eventually got cold and you both stepped out, got into some clothes, and fell asleep in each other's arms. You cannot wait to wake up the next morning to see your beautiful boyfriend's blue eyes and his friendly smile as the dawn rises into the next day.

💚

Here's the part 2 that y'all were waiting for! I'm sorry if it's shorter than my other works, but I hope y'all enjoyed it regardless. And to the three that requested, I am working on those as we speak, but I'll be going in order as to who requested first and then so forth. I hope y'all enjoyed this!

[houseoftulips]

You’re A Mean One | K. Sakusa ~ the one where he wasn’t into the Christmas spirit

➤ pairing: husband!sakusa kiyoomi x mom!reader w/ daughter Kami

➤ mentions of: a tiny bit of angst bc sakusa is a grumpy man, fluff/comfort

main menu / hq menu

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Growing up, the holidays was something you and your family cherished together. It made you want to continue that tradition with your own family when the time came.

And that time is finally around after your five year old daughter, Sakusa Kami was old enough to want to participate in being festive this year.

Your little doppelgänger nearly jumped out of her seat during breakfast when you told her that you and your husband, Sakusa Kiyoomi will be taking her out to find a christmas tree.

So here you all are, outside in the snow looking for the perfect tree that you swore to your daughter that she would get to choose. “Mama! Do they come with the snow?” Kami called to you as she stopped in front of one of many trees.

“No, baby. The snow will melt off when we bring it home,” you smiled at her.

“And it’ll cause more of a mess that it will already do…”

Ah… You forgot that your husband wasn’t too fond of the idea of getting a real tree so he’s been in a mood. He uses the excuse that he wasn’t too into the holiday spirit growing up due to how busy he was with volleyball but…it didn’t hurt for him to at least try.

“Honey, can you not please?” you murmur to him so your daughter doesn’t hear, “She’s excited.”

Sakusa sighs as he shoves his gloved hands into his jacket. “I know,” he says, “But we could’ve easily gotten a fake one that wouldn’t make a mess in the house.”

You pierce your lips in a tight line to keep yourself from snapping at him. It irritated you how much he was in a negative mood especially when he was the one who agreed to look for a real tree. So you just opted to not say anything else and watch your daughter happily run around the lot of trees to choose.

“What ‘bout this one,” Kami pointed towards a rather…dead looking tree.

“It’s dead, Kami,” Sakusa said straight out.

“Babe!”

Kami pouted slightly as she looked at the tree. Even though it was dead, he didn’t have to bluntly point it out. “If we get that tree we won’t be able to put all your pretty ornaments you made for me and papa. Try looking for a greener one,” you encouraged her.

She nodded with a small pout on her face and continued to walk ahead of you and Sakusa. Once you see she’s far enough away from you guys, you look at Sakusa with a pleasing look.

“Why did you agree to this if you’re just going to ruin the experience for her?” you ask.

“The experience of looking for a tree?” he rolls his eyes. “Baby, this will be too much work to maintain and I’m not going to be the one to clean all that mess up.”

You took a deep breathe to prevent yourself from yelling at him in public and in front of your daughter. “I get that but you agreed to this so please keep it at a minimum,” you pleaded at him.

“Fine,” he mumbled.

It was quiet for a moment as the three of you continued to look for a tree but Kami just couldn’t find the perfect one. Just like you when you were little, she wanted to find the most festive looking tree just like the ones she sees in the movies.

After about 20 minutes of looking around, the three of you rounded a corner into the next aisle of trees and finally you heard a happy squeal.

“Mama! Papa! Look!” she pointed with a happy smile towards a green and full tree. The pine tree was so full that you could barely see through the branches so it was perfect to your eyes and your daughters.

But that happy moment didn’t last forever the moment you heard a scoff beside you. “No. Absolutely not. Do you realize how many bugs might be hiding in there. I’d rather you pick the dead tree than this,” he grumbles as he looks at you.

“Kiyoomi!” you snap. But before you could scold your husband you hear some sniffles. You and Kiyoomi nearly break your necks hearing the familiar sniffles coming from Kami. “Baby… Don’t cry…,” you pleaded.

Fat tears. All of the fat tears she could muster spilled out of her eyes. Kiyoomi’s dad instincts kicked in and went straight to comfort her but she shook her head with her hands out in front of her.

“You’re so mean, Papa!” she cries, almost making you want to cry, “Yur’ a grinch!”

Kiyoomi’s heart throbbed hearing Kami’s cries. He knew what she meant by being called a grinch. He watched to American movie with her for the first time a few weeks ago and it made it feel guilty.

“Hey, princess,” he said in a comforting tone as he slowly walked up to her again, “I didn’t mean it-,”

“NO!” she screamed. You knew she was on the verge of throwing a tantrum in public so you walked passed your husband to pick up your daughter who immediately wrapped her arms around your neck and legs around your torso.

“Shhhh, Kami it’s okay,” you comforted in a hushed tone as you rubbed her back. You turned back around with anger in your eyes as you looked at Kiyoomi. “Let’s just go home,” you said which only made Kami cry harder and Kiyoomi feel even worse.

“Baby-,” he pleaded, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What else did you mean, Kiyoomi,” you snapped, “I ignored your ignorance while we were dating and before we had Kami but I’m tired of it.”

You then walked away from him towards the car as you tried to calm your crying daughter down. Sakusa was left in the aisle by himself standing in a pool of guilt covered snow.

Yes, he wasn’t looking forward to the mess and possible bugs a real tree would bring into the house but he knew it wasn’t right to let it get to his head. He felt even worse knowing that you sucked up his grinch like personality all these years and continued to have the holiday spirit so he walked behind you towards the car in silence.

The car ride and the rest of the day going into the night was quiet in the house. Kami calmed down during the drive back home because she ended up crying herself to sleep. She needed to get her nap in anyways so you were kind of relieved but it still made you sad that Kiyoomi didn’t even want to mask how much he didn’t want a damn tree.

So you ignored him throughout the day. You couldn’t even look at him either so you stayed with Kami in her room as she slept and left him to sit in guilt.

Kiyoomi stared at the ceiling in the living room in silence as he tried thinking of ways to make up for his grinch behavior but he knew a simple sorry wasn’t going to cut it. He stressfully rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands with a groan before looking at the time.

3:14 pm; he needed to go to practice soon but he didn’t want to leave you guys like that after what happened. So, he had an idea.

You didn’t realize that you fell asleep till you woke up with something poking your cheek. You hummed in question as you look over to your right and see your daughter with the same pout on her face.

“Hi, baby,” you smiled at her as your cupped her swollen cheek. She looks like Kiyoomi when she wakes up from her sleep, you thought. “Are you feeling better?” you ask.

She shook her head no and laid down on top of you. You could only say so much to console a child so you physically comforted her which seemed like something she wanted anyway.

You looked out her window to see that it wasn’t snowing anymore but it still stuck to the ground so you thought that maybe going to the park to play in the snow would lift her spirits. “Why don’t we go to the park? We can build a snowman,” you kissed her head.

Kami lifted her head with her sweet smile finally on her face with a nod. So you tell her to get ready while you left her room to let Kiyoomi know but he wasn’t home.

“Asshole left without saying anything,” you mumbled to yourself. You assumed that he went to practice since he doesn’t like driving in the snow too much so you brushed it off and got ready yourself.

After you and Kami got ready, you both left to house to walk to the park. Being there seemed to lift her spirits even more as she made snow family and snow angels. Kami also enjoyed you throwing into a pile of snow which what Kiyoomi would do in the backyard.

About an hour or so went by and it was starting to get colder so you and Kami decided to walk back home hand in hand. Kami kept giggling as she heard the crunch of her footsteps against the snow. You were lost in thought as you guys came up to the house to lost to notice that Kiyoomi’s car was in the driveway.

“Papa’s home!” Kami called out.

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion because he wasn’t gone as long as he usually is for practice. You brought your keys out to unlock the door and immediately went into shock.

Kami squealed in excitement as you were too stunned to speak. The whole inside of the house was covered in Christmas decorations galore. You almost couldn’t see your furniture because of how much lights and other decor was taking up every crevice in the house. And as if your daughter couldn’t scream any louder, there it was…the exact tree she pointed at earlier.

“Mama! It’s the tree!” Kami screamed as she ran towards the decorated plant as you remained at the front door too stunned to speak. Kami was too busy eye boggling the tree that was covered in the ornaments she made at preschool to notice how quiet you are.

“I had the team help me get it done,” a soothing voice said to you.

You looked over at Kiyoomi who you assumed came from the shower due to his wet curls. “Why,” you ask out of disbelief.

“Well,” he nervously laughs, “Hearing that your daughter called you a grinch is a good wake up call. And I found a cheap blanket to put the tree on top of to catch any of the dirt. I’m sorry about today… It was uncalled for…”

You couldn’t help but look at him in admiration despite how much you want to be mad at him. You couldn’t help it. You have seen you’re home decorated like this since you moved out of your parents house so many years ago. It felt like you were home again.

“Baby?” Kiyoomi calls to you due to your silence.

You instantly smile at him almost wanting to cry on the spot due to how happy you are. “It was uncalled for but I love it, ‘Omi,” you said to him.

You can see the stress leave his body as he let out a sigh of relief. It made you laugh a little bit seeing how hung over he was over the incident earlier. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders to put you into a tight hug. “Thank god,” he murmured into your head.

“Don’t get too relieved, my love. You still have your daughter to say sorry too,” you giggle.

“Ah…,” he smiled as he turned around to look at Kami who was still mesmerized by the tree with you still in his arms, “How does it look, princess?”

Kami turned around with her pretty smile — your smile, he thought. “It’s pwetty, Papa!” she said happily as she ran into his arms, “I love it so much!”

“Good,” he kissed her cheek, “Am I still a grinch?”

Kami giggled and shook her head no. “No more Grinch, papa. Pinky promise?” she held out her tiny pinky.

“Pinky promise,” he smiled as he locked his pinky with hers, “Now go get undressed, we’re having a movie night.”

Kami ran out of Kiyoomi’s arms with happiness radiating off of her. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You swear your cheeks were going to fall off.

“Hey…,” Kiyoomi whispered to you. You looked up at him with a soft smile silently answering him. “Look up,” he said as he pointed up wit his eyes.

You looked at him in question then up towards the ceiling to see a mistletoe attacked to the doorframe. Your cheeks flushed in red because even after all these years of being with him, you e never kissed Omi under a mistletoe. Kiyoomi smiled softly as he gently cupped your cheeks in his warm palms.

“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered against your lips before pressing a loving kiss on your lips.

You smiled into the kiss and even as he pulled away. “I love you too, Omi,” you said before he leaned his head down to give you another but longer kiss

“YUCK!!!” Kami gagged in the background.

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[dantesunbreaker]

Message Sent

Papa Emeritus IV X Transmale Reader

Copia must leave for a few days after you both finally confess your feelings for each other. But Copia is a bit of an idiot when it comes to these sorts of things and finds a way to mess things up the moment he returns.

Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort TW: mentions of depression. 3.5K words

GIF by ask-papa-iv

“It will only be for a few days, tesoro,” Copia tries to make light of the situation, arms circling tight around you. “Then I will once more be home...and I can perhaps take you to that new place down by the waterfront?”

You’ve been the assistant to Papa Emeritus IV since you joined the ministry, since back to his days as a Cardinal. All those years harboring a silent crush for the older man. Unaware of the returned feelings Copia also shared. But of course, the day you both finally admit to the feelings is the night before he leaves for a special one off show.

“I know, I know,” you sigh, sagging back into Copia’s embrace. “Should have thought about it, I knew you had this show coming up.” There is a lighter tone to your voice as you chuckle to yourself. Of course you knew he would be leaving, you made his schedule. Still, the timing felt right to express your feelings. “Neither one of us has been very good at timing this kind of stuff.”

Nodding in agreement, Copia nuzzles against your neck, wanting to commit your scent to memory before he leaves. Your night ends with a lingering yet shy, soft kiss on the lips before you both depart to your own separate chambers. Come morning, Copia and his ghouls are gone, leaving you to keep yourself busy with your shared workload in his absence. 

Throughout the day you share texts as you usually would, recounting the random mundane details of each other's day. But when it becomes late in the night, just before you know Copia is getting ready to get on stage, you send a text with a bit more passion. I miss you already, C... I can’t wait to be back in your arms. Maybe even your bed? You set your phone down beside the bed, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of wanting to check for a response every fifteen seconds. But it never comes.

When the sun comes up the next morning you awake to zero notifications. Confused, you open up your texts and stare at your last text to Copia. Did you say something wrong? Were you going too fast? Maybe you made him too flustered. Maybe you caused too much of a distraction before the show. You bite back the anxiety and you push those thoughts to the back of your mind for the rest of the day. 

But the next couple of days pass with complete silence from Copia’s end. You tell yourself that he is a busy man, that he just forgot or didn’t have time to get back to you due to how much he has on his plate. And you convince yourself of this up until the morning after his late night return. 

As you approach Copia’s office, as you do every morning, with two steaming cups of coffee in hand and file folder tucked under your arm, you swear you hear sounds coming from just beyond the door. Did Copia have a meeting you were unaware of? Without losing grip on either coffee, you manage to pull the heavy double doors of the office open and step into the room...only to pause midstep the moment you are through the threshold. 

Breath catching in your throat, you nearly drop both coffees and the folder. Papa sits behind his desk, a Sister of Sin all but leaning into his lap as their lips are locked in what appears to be a heated kiss. It hits like a knife to the heart, leaving you to gasp at the sudden pain. One of them must hear your gasp, for a moment later they are pulling from each other. The sister turns with a sheepish look on her face, cheeks flushed red as she lets out a barely audible apology before skittering out of the room. 

“Ah, good morning fratello,” Copia greets a bit breathless, seeming ready to act as if you did not just walk in on him with another sibling. “Do you have some papers for me?”

Numb, all you can do is nod as you take the few steps necessary to place the coffees to the side of his desk, tossing the folder in front of him. When Copia doesn’t even look up, you can feel pieces of your heart shatter. Was it all just a dream? Some cruel joke? You stand there unmoving, unsure what to think of things.

“Do you plan to stand there all day, or are you going to get some work done today?” There is a teasing hint to Copia’s voice as he finally looks up at you. And it’s enough to make your stomach churn. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you fight them back. Of course, this is just some sick little game to him isn’t it? The shatter is complete, your heart crumbling to pieces across the hardwood floor of his office.

“Excuse me, I have to go,” your voice is tight as you turn back towards the door, needing to escape before the waterworks come.

“Wait!”

You don’t know why you pause, holding onto some feeble sense of hope. But you hear Copia rise from his chair and cross around to the opposite side of his desk just behind you. Unable to face him without the tears falling, you keep your back to him.

“Are you sick? You just got here,” the sudden concern to Copia’s voice makes you feel ill. Could he really not see?

“No, Papa, I am not sick,” you feel small, counting the lines on the floor as your vision begins to blur as the tears begin as a small dribble. “I just... I can’t stay right now.”

The quick laugh behind you causes you to flinch.

“Caro, are you jealous?”

Suddenly, the dam breaks. And forth flows not only pain and anguish, but the undeniable anger you feel at both Copia and yourself. How dare he?

"Yes, I am jealous!" Your voice breaks with each word, the tears you tried so hard to hold back running forth quick as a river current. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make you happy? Yes Papa, you really had me going there.” The tone of your voice is near hysteric as your body begins to tremble. “For a moment, a soft fleeting moment, I actually believed that there was something special between us. That someone like me could actually matter to someone like you.” 

Barely able to see through the tears in your eyes, you take a blind step forward towards your escape.

“I can see now that I’ve been a fool.”

“Fratell- ” a hand closes around your wrist in a bruising grip. Just inches shy of the door.

“Don’t touch me!” The words are spit out like venom as you give a firm tug of your arm. It burns. The painful drag of skin on skin.

The hold on your wrist gently loosens, allowing you to pull your arm free without ever having to take a look back at the man who still held the pieces of your broken heart. Footsteps follow you as you sprint down the halls. Copia calls your name over and over, but you run until the sound is barely but a soft whisper in your ear.

When your back finally hits the inside of the door to your bedroom, the tears stop but the heartbreaking pain begins. It feels as though you are suddenly full of cement as you take the heavy steps necessary to reach your bed. Each small movement takes every ounce of energy in your body until you reach a distance at which you can simply let yourself fall forward. Sinking into the inviting warmth of the pile of blankets and plushies that is your bed for once does little to ease your woes away. 

Burying your face into the nearest pillow, you scream until your voice is hoarse and there is a deep burning ache in your throat. It is as though a deep hole now lies where your heart should be. A cold black pit that spreads out like a spider’s web throughout your chest. Have you truly been so blind this entire time? 

How could you go on living? How could you go on as if nothing ever happened? As if the head of the church hadn’t snuffed out what glimmer of joy was left in your heart. Tears once more sting your eyes at the thought of having to face your Siblings of Sin. The questions they will have. And... of course how will you be able to attend Black Mass without falling apart? Simple. You wouldn’t.

For a week you are unable to bring yourself to leave your room, wallowing in your bed and seeking the comfort of solitude. Not that you remain entirely alone. Some of the ghouls find themselves in your quarters at odd hours of the day, offering what solace they can. Cirrus and Cumulus come most evenings to ensure you have eaten at least once each day and to wrap you in the comfort of their cuddles. On a few occasions Mountain joins the pile, bringing offerings of his own special blend of tea in hopes to ease your sorrow. There is never any mention of Papa. Rumors spread fast around the Abbey. Your feelings for Papa are certainly not a well kept secret. Whispers of His Unholiness having been seen with a Sister of Sin however have circulated throughout the congregation. It would be more a surprise to the other siblings if you had not taken reprieve in your own chambers. 

But the ghouls do their best to distract you from the hurt. They also do their part in keeping prying eyes and questions away. Each ghoul, even Dewdrop, has some excuse for your whereabouts ready at the tip of their tongue if ever Papa approaches with questions of your absence. Anything to keep him away. Though you suspect you are far from his concerns of late. Probably too busy wrapped up in a certain new sister.

But as each day goes on, you find it easier and easier to ignore the darkness at the center of your heart. Sure, it is still there. You aren’t sure if it ever truly will fade away. With time though, the pain fades to a dull ache that doesn't always hammer to the front of your attention. You start with small simple tasks just around your room, testing your limits, before you decide to take that first step out of your room. When the world doesn’t immediately come crashing down, you take that as your sign to work back up to resuming some of your sibling duties. You are sure Sister Imperator has not been pleased at your absence, or more importantly your lack of contribution.

While you still refuse to go back to your duties as Copia’s assistant just yet, you do find other ways to remain helpful. Enough that Sister won’t come chasing you down for a lecture about doing your part for the ministry. You start by helping in the kitchen, knowing the staff there were always eager for a helping hand when there were so many mouths to feed. And well, you know it is a place a certain Papa did not frequent often. It was a miracle the man remembered to eat most days with how consumed he would become in his work. It’s why you are always punctual with delivering a warm meal to his office each day... Or at least, you were. You aren’t sure if things will ever return to that state of normal.

It’s nearly three weeks after the incident before things finally come to an unfortunate head, when you finally have to face reality. You’re walking down the hall, eyes adrift  unfocused as your mind floats away. But out of the corner of your eye you catch a flash of familiar black and white. By the time it registers in your brain, it’s too late. Still.. you consider making a break for it.

“Fratello, wait!” 

A heavy sigh passes through your lips, eyes closing tight as you focus on keeping yourself calm. You can do this. It’s time to face your problems head on.

“What do you want, Papa?” You spin on your heels so fast it makes your head spin, Copia’s official title emphasized with clear disdain.

“Please, caro, just hear me out,” Copia sounds so broken as he keeps a hand outstretched towards you. Sorrow clouding dual colored eyes. He is giving you the choice and space to refuse him, unlike your last encounter.

There is a slight tremble to your bottom lip, too afraid that your words were going to fail you. With eyes trained on the scuffs along Copia’s shoes, you silently place your hand into his. You aren’t sure you are actually ready to face whatever is to come, but you are tired of the unresolved turmoil looming over you. This is a necessary step. Sensing your apprehension, Copia lets out one of his signature soft cooing sounds that he knows you have always loved. He hopes that perhaps you still do. Another gloved hand joins the other, both of Copia’s hands now clasped around your one as he takes a tentative step forward in hopes that you will follow suit.

Without a sound, you allow Copia to slowly lead you down the corridor into his office. Once the door shuts behind you, he releases your hand and steps away to give you space. It gives you a sense of security. You aren’t a caged animal in this situation. You suppose that is his intention. 

Sad, tired eyes gaze up at you as Copia sags heavily into his chair. He looks as though he has aged considerably within the few short weeks since you had last seen him. The wrinkles along his forehead are more pronounced, the bags under his eyes plump and heavy, and it seems a frown has nearly been etched into the corners of his lips. For lack of better terms, he looked like shit. But you reign in the sympathy that wants to wash over you. You steel your eyes and wait for Copia to explain himself.

Copia seems to crumble beneath the intensity of your glare, dropping his eyes to his lap where he nervously wrings his hands.

“I am truly sorry for how I hurt you, caro,” Copia begins, wincing at the bark of a laugh you give at his words. But he remains undeterred. “There is no excuse for my actions. But please know that I deeply regret them.”

“Then why do it in the first place?” You take a daring step closer, this time it is almost as if you are the one cornering him. “If you didn’t want to hurt me, why did you lead me on? Why did you.. Why did you flaunt some sister in front of my eyes when my feelings were clear towards you?”

But all Copia can do is gape at you like a fish out of water, struggling to string together a coherent train of thought under your scrutiny. You are keenly aware of the tears forming in his eyes. Through soft sniffles, Copia tries in vain to keep them from falling. But soon enough thin rivers of black bleed into the white of his paints.

“Because your Papa is but a fool,” he is reaching into his pockets, fumbling to pull out his phone and set it on the desk towards you, screen face up at full brightness. He drops his head into his hands with a pitiful whine. “You see, I thought it was you who had been ignoring me during my absence.”

Wait... What?

In your haste you nearly stumble over your own feet as you step closer to the desk, leaning over the vintage oak to gaze at the small screen. The phone was open to the text stream between you and Copia. Your last message, exactly as you remember it, glares back up at you as if to mock you. But you notice something as you look closer. A picture of Copia in full robes and mitre behind a stage is attached, a text message accompanying it. I miss you too amore mio! I would love nothing more than to have you in my bed... so we may come together, eh? Tell me..will you be thinking of your Papa tonight while alone in your bed tonight? But... Copia hasn’t left the Abbey since his return weeks ago? It must be from...

“You didn’t press send,” you reach down, touching the screen and feel the soft vibration of your phone in your pocket in response. A semi soft gentleness has wormed its way back into your voice.

“Si..” 

Things begin to come together, your mind tying the crimson strings of your mental conspiracy board to connect the dots. You spent all that time waiting for a response... but Copia thought he was doing the same?

“So,” you take a step closer, taking note of the way eyes ever so slightly flick up to watch you between gloved fingers. "You thought I was giving you the cold shoulder the whole time you were gone. And you, what? Thought that seeing you with someone else was going to have me crawling to you?"

Copia lets out a pained noise, head sinking lower. 

"No, maybe, I'm not sure what I thought," his voice is thick, his shoulders visibly trembling. When he brings himself to look back up at you, his paint is a marbled mess of gray. "I thought if I pretended to be interested in a sister th...that you would realize what you were missing. That you would fight to win me over... But I'm a fool, and instead I hurt you and pushed you away."

"Yes," you step even closer, hand reaching out towards Copia as wet eyes watch your every move. "You are a fool," a whimper leaves Copia, eyes closing as your hand drops to run through his fluffy locks. "But... I would still like for you to be my fool."

Hands are reaching out for the one still at your side, clutching at it as if it were a lifeline. Eyes still closed, Copia pulls until the back of your hand rests against his moist cheek. You don’t mind the way paint already begins to rub off onto your skin.

“Per favore. Mi dispiace. Mi dispiace,” Copia slips from his chair, dropping to his knees as he drags his eyes up the length of your body until your gazes meet. “Per favore, I want to be your fool. Let me be your fool, caro. I’ll do anything. Per favore.”

Tears still stream down Copia’s cheeks, snot dribbling from his nose and making a sticky wet mess of his upper lip. He looks like a mess. Nothing will ever take back the hurt seeing Copia with someone else caused, the weeks of anguish and isolation it caused you to suffer. But it doesn’t mean you can’t stitch the wounds closed, letting them scar over and heal into something new. A single tear rolls down your cheek, landing on the tip of Copia’s nose.

Pulling your hand from Copia, shushing him in a soothing tone when he whimpers, you move to cup both his cheeks. Tilting his head up, you search his eyes for the answers you need. Sadness and regret oozes out just as heavy as the tears still dripping down his face. That is all you need to see to decide if you can try and work past this.

“What you did, it hurt me C. Hey, I need you to look at me,” you grab ahold of Copia’s chin when he tries to turn away in shame. “You can’t go back and fix that. But, you can learn from it and fight to keep from making the same mistakes. I am giving you a second chance, putting my heart back on the line. Please, don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t! I won’t, prometto!” Copia surges forward, arms wrapping around you to hold you close. “Let me prove myself. I’m only for you, amore. Only for you.”

You lower yourself to your own knees, pulling Copia into your chest as he continues to give soft wheezing sniffles. Together you rest there until his breathing has calmed and a comfortable silence settles over the room.

“C..can I kiss you, caro?” Copia asks in a semi shaky voice after much time has passed.

With a chuckle, you pull a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away the snot and slobber from his upper lip. Only then do you smile, giving a nod as you lean in. The press of your lips together is soft and delicate. It in itself is almost like an apology as Copia eases into pulling you to him. You melt into his touch. And you think that with time, you can repair this blossoming relationship.

[spinchip]

They send Cole in to talk to him because Jay’s never had a serious relationship other than Nya (and they're still together,) kai’s only ever had flings, and Lloyd was as knowledgeable on break-ups as a wet pile of leaves. Cole is the resident expert on heart break, being as he’s had 2 long(ish) lasting relationships that had both come to a tragic end- albeit, even he wasn’t quite experienced with this level of heartache. His ex boyfriends were from highschool, and nothing ever mattered in highschool. Especially not since he’d become a ninja. Who cared if Joaquin cheated on him with Lexi? He saved ninjago from countless evils. Joaquin was probably regretting it now!

Kai nudges him and exaggerates his eyebrows silently, motioning towards the kitchen door. Okay, so Cole was stalling. Just a bit. He was a little afraid he’d be out of his depth on this-scratch that, he was certain of it. Maybe if it were Jay or Karloff, he could manage- but Zanes emotions ran wide and deep and it was so incredibly hard to navigate those waters. Alas, he was specially chosen for this mission. He had to try.

He cautiously creaks open the kitchen door and finds Zane… chopping vegetables. For some reason, he’d convinced himself he’d find him curled up on the counters crying his eyes out. Yes, Zane was a very emotional person- but Cole forgot how deeply Zane hid that part of himself away. He can’t rely on the obvious for this. He’s gotta go into ninja mode, really do some nitpicking recon.

One sleeve of his sweater is rolled up, the other has rolled down and hangs dangerously close to getting tomato juice on it. Oh man. He’s really upset. Zane was meticulous about cleanliness, especially in the kitchen. His mind is somewhere else.

“Hello Cole.” He offers the master of Earth a smile, “If you have come to ask about dinner, it will be ready in an hour or so. I will call you when it is time to eat.”

Oh, clever clever. Polite as a peach but a not-so-subtle dismissal tacked on at the end, which means there’s no way for Cole to redirect the conversation gently. Zanes is banking on him losing the nerve to confront him. Well, Coles is no coward (And the others would just make him try again later. Better to rip the bandaid off now, right?)

“I actually wanted to talk to you.” He starts, swallowing thickly, “About how you're feeling.”

Zanes hands still just for a moment over the next tomato before he soldiers on, “I am fine.”

Cole frowns, “Zane… I’ve been through it too. It sucks… it’s okay that you’re not fine.” He tries softly.

Zane places the knife down, picking up the cutting board and setting the tomato aside, “I understand your concern, but I am fine. My romantic relationship with Pixal has ended, but we will remain friends and that is agreeable with both of us.”

There’s a pause as Cole tries to think of what to say, “You’re really… just okay with that?" At this point, an upset Zane would have gotten that kicked-puppy expression and opened up a bit more. Maybe started wringing his hands together, or shut down completely. Was he really fine? Zane? "You two have been together for what, four and a half years?”

“Five years, three months, and 12 days.” Zane corrects gently as he wipes down the counter.

“And it’s... over? Why did she end it?”

Zane gives him a quizzical look, “Cole, I was the one who terminated our relationship.”

That shocks Cole so badly he actually has to grab the counter for support. his feet nearly slide out underneath him, and he struggles to regain his bearings, “What!?” He gapes, “But- you were like so in love with her!”

Zane cringes and he can’t quite hide it, “I certainly believe I was, yes.”

“Well, what happened? What changed?” He forgets he’s supposed to be helping Zane with his heartbreak, curiosity leaping forward.

“I do not wish to discuss that.” he murmurs, pulling out a large pot and setting it on the stove.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry.” He scratches the back of his head, “It just feels so sudden. I didn’t even know you were feeling this way…”

Zane shrugs uncomfortably, “I did not want to say anything until I was certain of my choice. I thought about it for a long time before I approached her.”

Cole catches that and connects the dots faster than he thinks Zane expects him to, “A long time?… since the Never Realm?” He ventures carefully.

Just like that, Zane's face closes off completely. He stiffly continues to make chili, but does not acknowledge Cole's presence. He doesn’t comment on what he said, and pretends like he never heard it.

Cole decides to speak again, “Y’know what happened in the Never Realm…” he lowers his voice, pitching it low enough so no one could even consider eavesdropping. Something just for Zane, “No one blames you. It wasn’t your fault… We don’t love you any less because of what happened. I know it can be scary to wonder what we think of you, but my opinion of you hasn’t changed. I’m sure Pixals hasn’t either, so you don't need to run away. We still see you the same.” He says genuinely, reaching out and patting Zane's shoulder.

Zane exhales and the air in front of him swirls with snowflakes. He brushes Coles hand off but not unkindly, “You do not understand. I spent sixty years in the Never Realm.” it’s not a surprise but Cole still winces, “She still sees me the same, but I have lived a lifetime without her, a life completely different from this. I am the one who does not see her like I once did. I am not the man I was, and I feel nothing…” He shakes his head and re-words his sentence to be kinder, “I no longer feel romantic love for her.”

“Oh.” Coles not sure what to do with that.

“Thank you for your concern, Cole, but I truly am alright. I have had decades to distance myself from that pain.” Zane assures him with a smile. “Now please, allow me to return to our dinner.” He motions to the pot, and Cole takes the dismissal this time.

When he’s nearly out the door he hesitates, peeking his head back in. Zane has gone back to cooking, one sleeve rolled and the other slipping down. Maybe that’s just who he was now.

“I have one more question.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” he admits, tapping an anxious finger along the door frame.

“Then do not ask it.” Zane says. His voice is light but there’s a firmness there. He offers the advice with a push.

Cole accepts it and lets the door swing shut behind him.

On the tip of his tongue is do you still see us the same?

How do you see all of us, now?

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and To Heal (Part 6)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin Ødegaard is late.

Being a teacher, tardiness isn't something you normally tolerate. But when the offender is a tall, fit, blonde, Norwegian man that you have a massive crush on, you guess you can grant him a pass. 

You fiddle with the hem of your glittery gold dress, absently wondering if it's too much. You stared at it on the mannequin in the Chanel window display for what felt like hours before you decided you had to have it. You rationalized your outrageous purchase by saying it was a birthday present to yourself, ignoring the fact that you'd bought a pair of boots and said the same thing the week prior. Looking your best tonight was a non negotiable, and as soon as you tried the dress on you knew you had to have it.

Did you nearly drain your savings to afford it? Yes. Do you care? Not really, when you're positive Martin might lose his head at the sight of you in it.

The gold, half-sheer fabric hugs your body in all the right places. The fitted sleeves stop an inch above your wrist, allowing you to showcase the thin gold tennis bracelet passed down by your mum a few years back. The dress falls to your mid thigh, showing plenty of skin whilst also not causing a scandal among your colleagues. The metallic threads woven throughout catch in the club lights, attracting attention from all corners of the room but not from the man you crave most, because he's still to arrive. 

Half heartedly, you wonder if he's forgotten. Or perhaps the lads invited him out at the last minute and Martin decided that a night drinking with his friends sounded more appealing than hanging around at a teacher’s birthday party. 

Jen presses a drink into your hand, confident as ever in her fitted blue party dress. No matter where you are, she is usually the star of the show, but today you’re somewhat glad she’s turned it down a notch. "Quit staring at the door, live a little. He'll show up and if he doesn't, well then guess what! I'll help you find someone to forget about him." Jen touches your elbow, guiding the glass in your hand to your lips. "Drink! Have fun! Let loose and live for once in your life!"

Without a second thought, you down your drink amidst cheers from your friends, slamming the glass to the table when you've finished it. You make eye contact with Martin when you do, who's just walked in the door looking devilishly handsome as always. 

Martin's blonde hair is perfectly messy, one little strand sticking straight up like he'd nervously fiddled with it outside. He wears a red and black flannel unbuttoned over a plain black shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans that his muscular thighs look set to rip out of at any second. Even his shoes are modest, a simple pair of white high top converse. The only thing about him that screams money is the silver watch on his wrist; without it he may as well be an average London boy out for a night of fun. 

Somehow, he's even more gorgeous dressed like this than when he's wearing all designer or an Arsenal tracksuit. You love his modest appearance, like he'd chosen each piece with you in mind, to ensure he did everything he could to keep the spotlight off himself and firmly on you. It's sweet, as is the way he grins when you wave to him. 

Martin comes over and places a book sized box on the table before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Happy birthday, Sunshine,” he says, the greeting rolling off his tongue as easily as a plain hello. “Sorry I’m late.”

"Thanks," you squeak out, then clear your throat. You're determined to get through this night without embarrassing yourself, so you try a touch of banter and say, "I was beginning to worry you forgot about little old me! Party started at eight and it's now… nearly nine, Mar!"

"Ah yes, sorry I know,” Martin apologizes, and you swear a bit of pink finds it’s way to color his cheeks. “It's just that Atla wouldn't let me leave and I wound up having to bribe her with a new set of paints I had been saving for her birthday to convince her to stop clinging to my leg like a little animal." 

Oh God, how selfish of you! Of course Atla wouldn't want her dad to leave her, especially when she isn't used to him going out except for matches, when he'd be gone for days at a time. It’s perfectly reasonable to assume that he wouldn’t want to leave until he knew Atla was settled. 

"Right, I'm sorry! Of course that's why you're late, I shouldn't have assumed. That’s adorable though, that she loves her daddy so much that she couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving!"

Martin waves a hand, his voice like silk as he says, "Ah please it's alright. I should've messaged you or something. Though I would've had to email you through your school account, which you probably wouldn't have seen anyway, I doubt you check that on nights out."

Maybe it's the fact that you've already had enough to drink that you're feeling slightly buzzed, or maybe it's simply your new confidence in this dress, but you hold out your phone to Martin, a blank contact on the screen. "Put your number in then! I'll message you and you'll have it in the future then."

Looking slightly stunned, Martin takes your phone and types in his number before handing it back. "There you go- this is for you by the way, Sunshine," he says and nods towards the box he brought, a timid smile on his pale lips. 

You run your fingers over the red wrapping paper and fiddle with the loops of the bow in the center. "You can call me by my first name, you know, Martin. I thought we were friends and all that?" 

"Ah, but I like Sunshine better… how about if I call you solskinn instead? Would that be acceptable?" 

This man… you swear he knows exactly how to make you fall head over heels. It doesn't seem like he even realizes what he's doing which is the most mind blowing part- how can someone not realize the effect they have on another person? 

You smile when you realize Martin is waiting patiently for an answer and stutter out, "um- yeah, yes that's fine Mar… I'm gonna wager a guess that it's just Sunshine in Norwegian?" When Martin nods, you feel heat creeping up your cheeks, desperately willing them to not burn too brightly. "Yeah, I like that then Martin, you can call me that."

"Good, because it goes with the gift I got you. Go ahead and open it! I'm excited to see if you like it." Martin shifts a foot closer to you until he's inches away. You aren't sure if you're imagining the heat radiating from him or if it's truly there, either way you don't care. When you turn your head to look up at him before you rip off the paper, you have to crane your neck to see his pretty smile and the impatient glint in his eye. His beauty stuns you for a moment, the alcohol in your veins inhibiting your good sense and whispering that it’s a perfectly fine idea for you to stare at him a touch longer than you probably should. 

Jen's sharp elbow to your side brings you back to reality as your best friend saves you for the first time that night. You smile awkwardly at Martin then tear into his gift, gasping when you see the brand embossed in the white box.

"Chanel? Martin what did you do?! I can't accept this-" without opening the lid, you try shoving it towards Martin. Whatever it is, you know it isn't cheap. Martin shouldn't be dropping hundreds of pounds on you when he has Atla at home. 

"Honestly solskinn please, just open it," he murmurs, sliding it towards you again. His hand finds a place between your shoulder blades as he leans in to be heard over the music, "It's customized so I am not allowed to return it anyway. Trust me I can afford it! Please just open it and see. If you truly hate it, I'll pawn it off to one of the lads' girlfriends or something."

Ah, right. It can't be anything too personal then. Hopefully it's something small, though knowing Martin and that look on his face, it's the exact opposite. Taking a deep breath, you place one hand on either side of the box and bring it in front of you. You aren’t sure why you’re so nervous to see what he’s picked out, but something tells you that everything is about to change. 

You pull at the lid, wiggling it free. You're acutely aware of Jen's eyes burrowing into your skull as you peel back the white tissue paper, Martin's hand burning a brand into your skin through the material of your dress. "I hope you like it," he murmurs as you pull out a small, white leather crossbody bag with a tiny sun emblazoned above the clasp. You run your fingers over the gold chain strap and the embossed decoration, not having any idea what to say.

Martin fiddles nervously on your left. Your back suddenly grows cold when he removes his hand, raking his fingers through his hair instead. You're stuck staring at his gift, awestruck by the thought he's put into it as much as its price tag. 

"Uhh… do you like it? If you don't just tell me-"

"I love it," you interrupt, eyes wide when you turn to him. "Honestly Martin it's perfect- thank you so much!"

Without thinking, you throw your arms around Martin's neck for a bone crushing hug. Every muscle in his body goes rigid for a split second, like he's warring with himself. Then his arms engulf you and you nearly sigh when you’re slotted into the perfect fit of his embrace. He's warm and soft in all the right places. Calm- that's how you feel in the moment, as if a hug from Martin is all you needed to erase your frantic thoughts and worries. 

"You're welcome," he says into your hair, so quietly that you nearly miss it. You want to cling to him for the entire night, but you force yourself to release him after a few more precious seconds. 

“I really do love it, Mar. It’s such a thoughtful gift.” You allow yourself to touch your fingers to the back of his hand, trying to encourage him to let loose and be himself. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t, I thought maybe it was a bit too much. I wasn’t sure on the color either, I had no idea there was so many choices for things!” You laugh, imagining Martin looking like a lost child in the store until someone took pity and offered him help. “The salesperson was really helpful though, she said white was classic and that you’d probably like gold cause most people choose that with this bag and… and I’ve gone off on a tangent, haven’t I?”

You tip your head to the side, studying Martin as you say, “have you? I didn’t really notice to be honest. I don’t mind listening to you chat. Really, I’m a good listener, I’m used to toddlers telling me the most mundane details.”

“Ha- yeah I suppose that must be true, Atla always wants to tell me every little detail on our way home, right down to what colors she painted the trees with in art that day.” When Martin speaks about his daughter, his entire face lights up. You can tell how much he cares for her, how immense his pride is for his little art prodigy. 

If you had it your way, you'd stay here chatting to Martin all night. You have books full of questions to ask him, things you want to know about his life, his passions, his family, his culture… but your friends apparently have other plans. 

"Haaaapy biiiirthday to you!" 

You internally groan, spinning on your heel and being greeted with a round cake overflowing with candles. 

"Haaapy birthdaaaay to youu!"

Jen grins, stepping into your personal space and forcing you back a step, causing you to knock into Martin to avoid getting a face full of burning birthday cake. Martin's hand shoots out to your waist, steadying you. You're focused entirely on his touch whilst your friends finish their song. It takes an enormous amount of willpower to pay attention and keep a grin plastered on your face to cover the way Martin's hand makes you want to scream. It doesn't move until you lean forward to blow out the candles and everyone claps, Jen giving you a look that tells you she's set her master plan into motion. 

After you've cut and divided out the cake, you finally find your way over to Martin. He stands mostly alone, for once flying under the radar in an establishment full of uni students and young adults that couldn't care less about a football player amongst them. He leans with one arm on a high table whilst he chats to one of the people you'd invited. Martin does a double take as you approach, swaying your hips slightly while he quickly wraps up his conversation. 

"Do you want any cake? Or does your strict diet not allow for any fun, sugary foods?"

Martin laughs, a musical, magic sound that you instantly want to bottle so you can hear it whenever you please. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm not allowed to have any cake tonight. I am about to get a drink though, would you like anything?" 

"Mmm, seems a bit backwards if you ask me, but alright I'll buy it. I'll have whatever you're having? And I'll come with you." You add the lastbit on impulse, glad you did when Martin's face lights up. 

You follow Martin through the crowd, grabbing his flannel at one point to avoid being separated in the sea of people. Martin slows his pace when he realizes you're struggling, then reaches a hand towards you for you to take. 

Time seems to slow to the point of molasses around you when your hand slots into his. You swear a jolt of electricity sings through you when your palm slides against his calloused one, fitting perfectly together like a matched pair. He guides you through the crowd with ease, like this somehow isn’t giving him the same butterflies as it’s giving you. 

Is Martin doing this on purpose? Does he realize the effect he has on you, or is it simply a coincidence that everything he's doing tonight sets your heart on fire? You don't care either way, you just pray it's not a one time thing. 

Martin hesitates at the bar and you get the feeling he doesn't want to let go. You open your mouth to tell him he doesn't have to but you're far too slow, and he drops your hand before you can get a word out. A stone of disappointment settles in your gut as you fold your empty hands in front of you. 

Martin orders two of a drink you've not heard of before. Whatever it is seems fancy because it takes ages, which you're very aware of thanks to the silence that stretches between you. Martin's mood has changed in the time it's taken to get from the table to the bar and you have no idea why. You hate it, you want the Martin from five minutes ago. You want the Martin that hugged you and was soft as downy clouds, not this steely, closed off version of him.

When the drinks come, Martin slides one your way and says, “If you don’t like it, I can get you something else.” Fruity bursts cover the slight burn of alcohol when you take a sip. The drink goes down easy, and before you realize it you’ve finished half. You grin, setting your glass on the bar. 

“It’s good! I like it, you’ll have to tell me what it is so I can order it more often. Although I have to admit, I took you for a straight whisky kinda guy.” Your shoulder bumps Martin’s in an attempt to loosen him up. It works at least slightly; some of the tension drains from him. That light you love dances in his eyes again, the blue of his irises even brighter somehow.

Hold on- love? No, no. You don’t love anything about Martin… You can’t, he’s your student’s father, but… what an amazing father he is. You’ve not met a man like Martin, who balances such a demanding job with being the perfect father. Atla loves him so much and you would have to be blind not to see how much he loves her as well. His world revolves around his blue eyed, blonde haired, outgoing little girl. 

And that is precisely why you’re falling for him. It isn’t slow anymore. It’s more like a plane crash, sending you into a helpless, tumbling free fall that has you toppling arse over teakettle. There’s no denying it anymore. You may as well admit it. 

Taking a deep breath, you gather every bit of courage you possess. “Martin- can I ask you something?”

Your heart hammers in your chest. Your thoughts are treason. You don’t care. You’ll pay whatever price the universe demands to know the answer to the question that has been plaguing you for ages. 

Martin glances over at you, runs a strong hand through his hair. He cheats his body towards you, elbow bent as he leans on the bar and says, “um, yeah sure. What is it?”

You barrel ahead before you can change your mind. “I just- would you wanna go out some time? Like, as… as maybe more than friends?”

At first, Martin looks like he might laugh, as if he thinks you’re joking. His cute little dimples come out to play for only a second. Then his expression morphs into disbelief, then something almost like disgust as it dawns on him that you’re completely serious. 

You hate yourself. You hate him. No, you don’t. You just wish you could erase your words, pull them back and keep them locked up deep inside your heart where they belong. You’ve let yourself be vulnerable for the first time in as long as you can remember, and now that decision will haunt you. 

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that,” Martin says, taking a step back, one hand pressed hard to the center of his chest. “Sorry but I- I have to go.”

“What?” Your stomach sinks to your feet. Fuck, you’ve really messed it all up. “Martin, wait, you don’t have to go.” Your hand shoots out for his wrist, but the second your fingers brush his skin, he jerks his arm away like you’ve shocked him. “Martin I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I’m half drunk and I don’t have a filter.”

Your world crumbles at your feet as Martin shakes his head. He’s like a spooked animal, set to flee thanks to your admission. “I have to go,” he repeats, before turning on his heel and making a beeline for the door. He leaves you at the bar, shellshocked and alone, trying to process what’s just happened.

Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?

[wellpresseddaisy]

Use Any Means part 10

If he was asked, years later, what he’d eaten for dinner the night he met Mr. Du, Percy Weasley would be completely incapable of answering. He remembered it as one of the better meals he’d eaten in several weeks (mostly as it wasn’t hastily eaten cafeteria sandwiches), but the contents remained a mystery. Hermione shattered his concentration on his dinner companions by sending a note down to the dining room right before the cheese course. He unfolded it and tried to focus on the words:

Percy,

Ron just told me that he forgot to mention one important point from last year. Umbridge forced Harry to write lines with a blood quill for much of the year. You can come up and see the scars if you feel the need to verify this.

Hermione

Percy rose without even thinking about it.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I think I need to speak with Miss Granger immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Weasley,” Mr. Du sounded amused for some reason as he rang for a footman. “Ah, Reynolds, could you take Mr. Weasley up to the day room, please?”

Percy followed the young footman uout of the room, his mother’s

“He isn’t usually so distracted, Mr. Du, although I know he hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly. I…oh yes, this would do it. I’ll show you, Mr. Du, but you’ll have to remain calm.”

trailing out the room behind them.

Did she know? Did everyone know? He’d worked so hard to protect his family over the last year, once he worked out what the Minister wanted. He knew before that awful argument, but who else could get information out? He got the position he did  because Fudge thought he was a useful naif and he could organize a schedule like nobody’s business. Did the Minister know what Dolores had been up to at Hogwarts? Or had he sent her there to be rid of her simpering for a year? Percy could never quite tell where things stood between them, honestly. Fudge seemed to lean on her in the strangest ways when she was at the Ministry. Without her, he seemed almost normal. Percy had just about got him to admit to You-Know-Who’s return privately when that mess at the Ministry happened.

The clean-up alone gave him the headache. Writing a statement for Fudge and handling his own feelings on the matter nearly had him down with migraine. He still couldn’t quite believe they’d lost Sirius Black. Sirius, who had been his only link, who wrote him the letter that started him collecting information for the Order. Percy didn’t know what he would have done without Sirius’ encouragement during some of those dark days. Sirius understood estrangement from one’s family and just how much it hurt, even when it was a necessary evil. As if he hadn’t see through the Minister’s ulterior motives in thirty seconds. He’d helped raise Fred and George, for Merlin’s sake. If he missed something that transparent then he deserved what he got.

He just wished he could have saved his mother some heartache. She worked so hard to keep hearth and home together and he’d…best not go down that road now. That road led to weeping into a teacup and far more mucus than one should have to handle in a day. Bill and Charlie each sent a howler that he still blushed to remember. As Sirius said, sometimes you simply had to do what needed doing and pay the price later. He could carry his family’s anger with him as long as he needed to if it kept them safe. That was all he wanted and what did it get him? His brother and sister rushing into peril (again) and Harry tortured for a year before losing his godfather.

Why the hell hadn’t Sirius flooded him? He’d told the man and told the man that if anything kicked off at the Ministry he was to know first. He could have…perhaps he could have stopped some of it. Perhaps he could have kept Sirius out of it or Ron or Hermione from being so horribly injured. They’d mocked him as a perfect, but he knew the value of a querulously official tone. People might think one weak, but that was how one claimed the element of surprise. If he’d known about Dolores…did Ron truly think he’d allow that sort of thing to go on? Did he believe Percy would allow a child his mother claimed as one of her own (a young man his brother claimed as brother) to be grievously injured? To be tortured?

Percy had worked himself into such an affronted lather by the time Reynolds coughed discreetly and said,

“The day room, Mr. Weasley.”

that he forgot all decorum and slammed the door open.

“How dare you keep something like this to yourself, Ronald Bilius?” he thundered.

Gone was Pompous Perfect Prefect Percy who couldn’t get anyone to mind him. This was pure enraged elder brother, like Charlie’s big hand landing on your shoulder as he growled ‘You’re knicked, sunshine’ or Bill’s incredibly weary ‘Right then, could you run me through your thoroughly asinine plan one more time, please’. Ron straightened up from his sideways slump on the sofa with a horrified squeak. Percy watched as he scrambled among Hermione’s books, trying to right the mess his sudden shift created.

“I can certainly promise you that the minute you turn seventeen I’m hunting up Great Grand Aunt Viola’s hairbrush. What would ever make you think to keep actual torture a secret?”

He heard Reynolds choke on a laugh as he closed the door. They’d certainly give the Servants’ Hall something to talk about tonight.

“What on earth…” Hermione finished rescuing her books and stacked them on the side table.

“And you, Miss Granger. I expected more sense from you.” He scolded.

“You’re the one who wrote that letter!” Ron protested, standing to square up with him.

When had his little brother shot up like that?

“Which I expected you to see straight through! I taught you about ulterior motives when you were four, Ronald. I thought you might remember.”

“Ulterior…” Ron’s voice trailed off as he thought. “You utter prat!”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t see straight through Fudge and Umbridge’s machinations? Fred and George had more guile in their little fingers when they were three than those two have ever managed between them. Of course I saw through it. The best I could do was make you angry enough to stop speaking to me, all of you. Although I had some hopes my brother wouldn’t be a complete idiot about it.”

Ron spluttered something, probably something foul which Percy decided he didn’t need to know, while Hermione looked thoughtful.

“You’ve been sending information to the Order, haven’t you?” she asked.

“Mr. Black,” Percy confirmed.

“I thought you were so wrapped up in the Minister that you’d never lift a finger to help.” Ron admitted.

“I could have tried. With Dolores at Hogwarts I was slowly bringing Fudge around. Next time you decide to form an extracurricular fighting force, could you possibly let me know? I could have had him laughing the whole thing off and not attempting to arrest Dumbledore.” Percy suddenly felt every single hour of overtime he’d worked.

“Then you shouldn’t have been such a berk at Harry’s trial.” Ron muttered.

Percy stifled the urge to remind Ron who taught him how to use a fork.

“I wasn’t at Harry’s trial. Dolores suggested that I would have trouble with impartiality so I spent that morning reorganizing the filing system.”

“But Harry saw you there as a clerk. You hardly even looked at him.”

Percy’s mind whirred. Could someone have…one wasn’t perhaps as careful in the Ministry, at work, as one might be elsewhere. He could have shed some hair and it could have been used in Polyjuice, he supposed.

“This has suddenly become a touch more complicated.”

“Do you believe us about the blood quill?” Hermione asked.

“Of course I believe you. You’re none of you liars and it’s exactly like Dolores.”

“Then sit down a minute and have a cup of tea or something. Mum’s right—you look peaky.” Ron slouched to a sideboard and poured a cup of tea.

Hermione stared until he moved to an easy chair across from the sofa and sank into it. A side table scuttled over to park itself by his arm rest. He patted it absently. Ron brought his tea over and then went back to the sofa. Merlin but he felt like a perfect again, dealing with miscreants.

“Now, from the beginning, please. What happened between Harry and Dolores?”

“And you’ll look at Harry’s hand?” Ron pressed.

‘I’ll look at Harry’s hand, I promise you.”

“We, er…” Hermione sighed, looking a bit chagrined. “The truth is I used my injury from the Ministry to guilt Harry into giving up the memories of his detentions. Madame Pomfrey took them for us and sealed them so you know they haven’t been tampered with. He’ll probably be put out with us, but we can give them to you, if you think you’ll need proof.”

“I’m going to the Minister directly after this,” Percy said. “It’s a bit delicate now, with the blood quill and Harry being the Black Duke, but I’ll talk Fudge around. The memories will help. Now, from the beginning.”

He fixed Ron and Hermione with a Look and they began talking.

--------------------------------------

Ron fiddled with the tea set at the sideboard for a moment before pouring himself a cup. He felt like a complete and utter juggins, not trusting Percy. He should have known, should have read that letter again instead of pitching it onto the fire in a rage. He throat hurt from all the talking. Percy took them over and over and over the year before he produced a dictaquill from his breast pocket and set it on parchment, making them say everything over again. Even feeling as he did, knowing Percy had everything under as much control as he could have him a sense of relief. He’d just wanted someone to do something about…about the whole terrible year they’d endured. All the decrees and the Quidditch ban and Harry bleeding everywhere all the time and Umbridge’s smug, today face every time she made one of them hurt. He should have tried to trust Percy.

Wasn’t Percy the one who was always there to help? Bill and Charlie were brilliant, but they weren’t interested in little brothers much. Percy had helped Mum and kept him entertained and taught him all sorts of things. And he repaid that by taking a leaf from Fred and George’s book as soon as he could.

“Ron, please stop fidgeting and come sit. They sent up a plate of sandwiches.”

Ron sighed and brought tea over to the sofa for both of them. He felt awash with it now, but he wanted to be awake just in case Harry woke earlier than expected. Sandwiches might help.

“What did Percy mean about finding your great grand aunt’s hairbrush when you turn seventeen?” Hermione asked suddenly.

Ron choked on his ham and cheddar.

“You can’t just go asking people things like that over sandwiches, Hermione!” he protested once he cleared his windpipe of crumbs.

“You aren’t people; you’re Ron.” Hermione bit into an egg and cress daintily.

“You could have waited until I swallowed,” he complained.

“Well?”

“It’s just…” Ron stopped and stared down at his plate. “You know magical society think my family is strange, yeah?”

“I didn’t think it was everyone.”

“I reckon it is, about, at least in the Hogwarts set. It isn’t just Dad or the Burrow being what it is. It’s…Mum and Dad have never hit us.”

“That’s strange?”

Her tone suggested it shouldn’t be strange, but Ron kept staring at his lap.

“You know how old fashioned people can be. I know loads of people at Hogwarts wouldn’t dare behave at home how they will at school. Bet they catch hell for it, though. Someone’s always going to tell, especially if it'll get them out of trouble.”

“And your parents don’t…Ron that isn’t strange at all. My parents have never laid hands on me, either.”

“It is in this world.” Ron gestured to the room. “Here your parents…they don’t own you, but there’s a lot more allowed. The magical world left the non-magical one when physical punishment was normal and…and considered the right thing to do for the good of one’s soul. Dad got injured early in his career and had to stay back at the office. They had all these non-magical journals that did research on raising kids and they all found that hitting didn’t work. Dad brought them home and Mum read them and they decided together. So, yeah, everyone thinks we’re weird and spoiled or something like that.”

“I’m still not sure where the hairbrush comes in.” Hermione reached over and grasped one of his hands.

“Oh, that’s to get people off Mum’s back. She’ll mutter something about it or tell us that we’re going to regret it when Dad gets home if we aren’t behaving. People still know, though. But the seventeen thing…” Ron felt his cheeks heat and struggled not to snigger.  

“What on earth could be so embarrassing?”

“It isn’t, not really. Mum…she…we’ve all of us asked why and I think I asked when Mum was distracted because she told me about their decision and how they never wanted any of us to be afraid of them or telling them anything and then…then she told me that it was perfectly acceptable for adults to decide they wanted…that in a relationship and some people liked to be in charge and enjoyed a more traditional set of roles and…er, that’s about when she realized what she was saying and almost ran out of the room because I was nine. So now when Bill or Charlie or Percy is annoyed with us they, er, well the birthday thing. Percy usually isn’t that open...must’ve really hacked him off.”

Hermione snorted, pressing her lips together. “Sorry…sorry, Ron it’s…”

“It was pretty funny at the time. Still is, now. Mum’s face, Hermione.”

“But it’s really…”

“Not sure how common, honestly, but accepted, yeah. I know there’s a few I wouldn’t want to be…Merlin, what if someone found someone like that for Snape?” Ron went off in a peal of laughter. “I’m imagining Lucius Malfoy interviewing people. Dad says he’s always talking Snape up at the Ministry. What if he’s trying to get him off his hands?”

“He’d eat them alive, honestly.” But she giggled anyway. “Really even OWL and NEWT students?”

“If you’re under their roof then you’re under their rules. Some families have different rules, too, like you might be of age for the government at seventeen but the family charter says it’s twenty-one or twenty-five. Mum has some corkers about people she knew. It’s one reason some get married so young.”

“How do you wrap your head around it? Especially considering how, oh, I don’t know, Malfoy behaves at school. Or Smith, who is a complete toe-rag.”

Ron shrugged. “I reckon it’s growing up knowing and knowing we were different.”

“And…was it Fred’s left buttock? They make it sound like a giant joke.”

“It is now because Dad apologized and promised it would never happen again. And it hasn’t. I think Dad was more upset over all of it than even the twins, but I was three.”

“Do you think there are any books…” Hermione began.

Ron fought bravely but lost his composure completely. “A how-to or maybe a stud book…” he managed around hiccups of mirth.

“Ronald! Don’t be crass or it will be a how-to manual!” she thwacked him with a cushion.

“Oooh-er, promises!”

Ron hauled a cushion over his face and howled as Hermione bashed him over the head.

[blublublujk]

it was destiny (3)

part 1 part 2 part 3

words count: 7k

summary: dilfy jungkook and milfy reader settle an agreement

pairing: dilf jungkook x milf reader

warnings: 18+, swearing, alcohol, heartbreak, children i think, fluff??, explicit sexual content (dirty talk, possessive tendencies, praising/degrading, spanking??, biting, blowjob, head (m. to fem.), multiple orgasms, protected rough sex) i hope that is all i forgot >.<

—> m.list

--

“How are things running at the hotel?”

“They are… running.”

“I hope you’ve been on top of things, Jungkook. I am expecting to be back in a week, if all goes well here in Japan.”

“I have Father, don’t worry about things here. We all look forward to your return.”

“Mhm, I’m sure. How’s my granddaughter?”

“Minsu’s great. Excelling in school, per usual.”

“That’s amazing. Nothing like her Father, that’s for sure.”

Jungkook decides to ignore his father’s words for now. “Alright, thank you for checking in. Things are fine over here, we’ll catch up another time.” 

The line immediately clicks, the older man not even bothering to say ‘goodbye’. Jungkook groans, throwing himself in the mess of hotel sheets. 

It wasn't usual for Jungkook to spend nights at the hotel— at least not this many nights. He was here to work after all, to make sure all things ran accordingly while his father was out on his business trips. The one he was on ran longer than usual, so Jungkook put it upon himself and took the hotel under his wings. Jungkook didn’t know the first thing about tending his father’s business but he did his best. His father trusted him with that much. 

Plus, it was the least he could do. 

Jungkook understood perfectly well that he had a daughter back home to work hard for. His Minsu. 

Minsu, at times, would spend nights with her mom. Some nights she spent them with her favorite uncle, Kim Taehyung, but most nights Minsu spent her nights curled up beside her father. Jungkook loved Minsu more than he loved life itself; he'd do anything for her. 

Like yourself, it wasn’t usual for Jungkook to sleep with a person more than once. Much less, for him to invite that person to spend the night in his hotel room. 

That wasn’t until he met you, of course. 

Everything Jungkook had once known confused him. He broke his own rules trying to get to you, and you’d let it happen every single time. 

Jungkook remembers the words clearly.

Don't come looking after me anymore.

We’re done here. 

After having the best sex of his life. 

Jungkook also remembers the look you’d give him at the bar. Your body propped up in a position showing your most intimate parts, only for his eyes to see. Those lust filled eyes, forever ingrained in his head. Purposely wetting your lips, nearly begging to be fucked in front of the whole bar. 

You were just as desperate as he was. 

How could he avoid you if you wanted him just as badly? He never listened to you anyways, he always came back after you and you’d follow him. 

The last thing Jungkook expected was to bump into you at his own daughter's birthday party. And Jungkook’s conscience was not going to let that go so easily. 

“Daddy,” Minsu calls over the speakerphone, “Mom took me on the coolest sailboat!”

“Did she?” Jungkook can’t help but to smile. “Did you see any dolphins?” 

“A million Daddy.” Jungkook laughs. “I wish you had been there.”

He could hear his daughter sigh across the line. There was a stab to his heart, as much as he had wished to be there for his daughter, he respected Seo-ah’s wishes to spend a weekend alone with her daughter. After all, she was there for Minsu whenever she asked for mother. Jungkook liked that about Seo-ah. 

Seo-ah was the first woman he’d opened his heart to. The once strangers met in their first year of undergraduate classes. He fell pretty quickly, being that she was beautiful. She was incredibly intelligent. She was the girl of many people’s dreams. Parents loved her, she was the perfect partner in the crowd of a million eyes. 

Everyone wanted to date Seo-ah, but she only had eyes for Jungkook. 

Seo-ah had the brightest future ahead of her, she was destined for success. Seo-ah dreamed big. Unlike Jungkook, he didn’t dream too much. To be completely honest, Jungkook didn’t even like going to college. He dropped out fairly early in his undergraduate years and Seo-ah kept attending without him. 

Everything was going okay for them. 

Seo-ah graduated in the top 1% of her university. She then decided that her dreams were no longer in Busan. She moved to Seoul and started her nursing residency there. She fell completely in love with her career. Nonetheless, Jungkook was so happy for her. He started to work under his father, in an attempt to make something of himself. And in that he made great money, money he would have never seen, even if he had finished his studies. Jungkook and his family lived well. Seo-ah benefited from that. 

He visited Seo-ah constantly, train ride after train ride, still madly in love with her and she with him. Jungkook spent many nights sneaking into her dorm room, often making love to one another. Sweet confessions were shared into each other’s ears, holding onto each other as if something would pull them apart in any given moment. They loved hard and that same summer they spontaneously decided to get married, planning a long future together. It was perfect. 

Everyone envied their love. 

Their love was beautiful.

Their love also created Minsu. 

And just like every young couple, they were terrified. Even then, it was Jungkook’s most beautiful moment in life. Nothing will ever come close enough to compare to the emotions he felt when Minsu first came into his life. 

~~

“Daddy it hurts.” Minsu cried, wiping her filthy hands across her face, leaving trails of dirty stains behind. 

“I know princess. This is why we don’t go out without our kneepads on, okay?” Jungkook cooed. 

“I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?” Minsu sniffled, disappointed in herself. Tears falling down her face. 

Jungkook shook his head rapidly. “I could never be mad at you, my little princess.” He caressed his daughter’s cheeks with so much tenderness, wiping every tear off her precious face. Silently, he promised a million things, but most importantly he promised her protection from anything and everything that could ever harm his daughter. He would do anything for Minsu and he’d work hard to prove that to her each and every day. Minsu was his whole life. “Let’s go get you some ice cream for being such a trooper.”

~~

Then one day everything changed. 

Jungkook doesn’t remember how it all started or why it happened. There was a fight, a meaningless fight between him and Seo-ah. He can’t even remember what the fight had been about. But he remembers the words that changed his life forever. 

~~

“I don’t fucking love you anymore, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook shook his head, he couldn’t even feel the tears dripping down his face, instantly dropping to his knees. 

“You don’t mean that, Seo-ah. Please. You don’t mean that.” Jungkook whispered weakly. 

“But I do. Jungkook, look at me.” Jungkook couldn’t find the strength in him to look up. He wanted to run away at that moment far, far away, but his legs betrayed him. Jungkook feared that the words ringing in his ears would become a reality. Nonetheless, he looked up with all the strength in the world he managed to gather within the span of a few seconds. “I don’t love you anymore.” 

Seo-ah didn’t love him anymore. 

Then his world stopped.

~~

Jungkook remembers the ache. His heart felt heavy. He could no longer hear his own thoughts. Words kept ringing and ringing and ringing. 

I don’t love you anymore. 

Jungkook, I don’t love you anymore. 

Jungkook, look at me. 

I don’t love you. 

Can you hear me? 

Jungkook.

He doesn’t remember where things went wrong. It all started with a meaningless fight. A meaningless stupid fight. That was all it was.

“One day my little princess.” Jungkook promised his daughter a happier future, a future where she didn’t have to feel this constant fear of feeling like she was picking sides, a home where she could have it all. The life his daughter deserved to live. “One day.”

One day, maybe even Jungkook could have it all too.

—

“Kook.” 

“Mm.” 

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Taehyung huffs, chucking a straw wrapper at him. “What’s wrong with you these days?” 

Jungkook shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. “Nothing.” 

Taehyung scoffs, like he’d believe that. “It’s not ‘nothing’ clearly.” 

Jungkook shrugs.

He didn’t know where to start. Jungkook would have to explain everything to him. When he first laid eyes on you, when he first ruined a pair of hotel sheets with you, the moment he realized he was falling for you. Everything. 

Maybe he’d also have to explain what he felt first hearing the pretty sounds your voice made. Sweet melodies coming from your lips. Your addictive scent. He swore he could smell and taste you all over him for weeks. Maybe he could start there.

“Just thinking.” Jungkook mumbles.

“I can clearly see that.” Taehyung leans against the bar, arms crossing. “How long have you been seeing her?”

Jungkook blinks. “Three weeks technically.” 

Taehyung knew Jungkook better than he knew himself. It was clear when Jungkook had romantic issues going on. After all, Taehyung had been through hell and back with Jungkook. The divorce was not the easiest process for him and Taehyung was there every step of the way. 

“I’m guessing you met her here?” Taehyung gestures at the bar, the bar you both knew fairly too well. The bar you both made a second home of.

“Mhm.” 

“Where is she now?” 

“Dunno.” Jungkook shrugs. “She hasn’t shown up here in nearly a month.” 

Taehyung reaches over to pat Jungkook but stops about halfway. Jungkook struggled to express himself and he didn’t want to overwhelm him with so many emotions, instead he let him take care of himself. 

“Have you tried calling her?” Taehyung suggests. 

Jungkook scoffs into a dry laugh. “You don’t think I’d try that if it were that easy? I don’t even have her number, Hyung.” Jungkook starts picking off a loose string on his sweater, roughly tugging at the material. 

“Do you know her name?” Taehyung takes Jungkook’s hand in his, preventing him from ruining his clothing any further, giving it a light squeeze. 

“Y/N.” Jungkook pauses to breathe. Even saying your name was intoxicating enough. “Her name is Y/N.” Jungkook swallows, looking around the bar, a bit uncomfortable to finally be speaking about you. 

“And you met her here?”

“Yup.”

“Is there a reason why you think she’s been gone for nearly a month?” Taehyung prays Jungkook didn’t get ghosted. That this was all a misunderstanding. That whoever you were, he hoped you weren’t just ignoring his best friend for no reason. And that this had all been a misunderstanding. 

“She’s a mother.” 

Taehyung blinks, clearing his throat. “Ok. And?” 

“Her daughter just so happens to be friends with my Minsu.” Jungkook takes a sip of his flavored soda, skipping alcohol today. “You can connect the dots.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “No fucken way.”

“Yup.”

“So what, did you just happen to bump into her while picking up Minsu from school or what?” Taehyung attempts to recreate the various possibilities of events in his head. All chaotic, all hilarious. 

Jungkook lowers his head into his arms, scrunching his nose. “She just happened to show up to Minsu’s birthday party, that’s what.” 

Taehyung attempts to hold his laugh, Jungkook looks up, shoving him. “Don't you dare laugh at my misfortunes.” 

Taehyung then laughs. “I can’t even imagine the look on your face. Oh, I bet it was priceless!” Taehyung says between laughs, clapping at the concidence. 

“Yeah, imagine how I felt.” Jungkook mutters. “The girl of my dreams, just casually showing up to my daughter’s birthday party and she just so happens to be the same person I’ve been sleeping with for the past three fucking weeks.” 

Taehyung can’t help but be amused. “Girl of your dreams you say?” 

Jungkook weakly nods. 

“Tell me about her.” 

Jungkook struggles to find the words, and it's not that he doesn't have any, he just has too many. He feels his head might explode if he thinks any longer. 

“This is going to sound crazy.” Jungkook whines, shoulders dropping.

Taehyung pats his hand. “I’m all ears.” 

“She’s amazing, Hyung. She’s beautiful. She makes me feel so many things, I couldn’t possibly begin to describe. She’s great in bed, not that it even matters. Would it be wrong to say I feel a sort of connection with her? Maybe like we were meant to meet each other in the way we did.” Jungkook shivers, maybe he was crazy. He probably sounded insane, but it’s what he felt towards you. 

Taehyung takes it in, pursing his lips. 

“She’s an incredible mother, she’s patient. She has this sort of attitude that drives me insane. Do I sound like a fucking idiot yet?” Jungkook stresses running his fingers through his curls.

“No. You sound like you really fucking like her though.” Taehyung points out. “When did you start liking her?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook blinks. “She plays hard to get but always ends up coming back. I guess I like that about her.” 

Taehyung nods. 

“She has a wonderful daughter, very kind.” 

“She sounds great. Does she like you back?” Taehyung awkwardly asks, scratching behind his ear. 

Jungkook shrugs, mirroring his action. “I think so. We’ve never talked about ourselves like that. But Hyung, this feels different. I know she feels it too, I can’t be the only one.” 

Taehyung seems to understand. He sees the desperation set on Jungkook’s face and he almost feels bad, but if Jungkook is feeling this, then you might be too. 

“I think you both should talk,’ Taehyung advises, ‘if you see her again.”

Jungkook nods, still a pout on his face. He doubts you’ll come back. It's been almost a month since the birthday party, it was the last time he saw you. What if he’s the only one feeling like this? How could he find you again if he knew nothing about you? Would you reject him?

—

“Alright. Enough for you.” Hoseok pulls your upper half off the bar. A new bar you made home for the past month, but it didn’t feel like home. 

No, it would never feel like home. 

Home was warm.

“No, ju— just one more puh—pleaseee.” You slurred wrapping your arms around him nonetheless. Hoseok carried you out the best he could, forcing you into his car before you embarrassed yourself any longer. 

“But I don’t want to leave.” You pout, pleading eyes.

“Yes, you do. You weren’t even enjoying the drinks anymore. You’ll hate yourself tomorrow.” Hoseok says nonchalantly, dragging your feet inside the car. “Let’s go. I’m taking you home.” 

You nod, feeling a bit drunker than you intended. You could feel the alcohol buzzing in your ears, had you stayed for one more drink the outcome would have been horrifying. Hoseok was right, you weren't even drinking comfortably anymore, you felt sick. All that was is a distraction from a more pressing issue. An issue you didn’t want to deal with right now, but needed to. 

Hoseok’s car was much warmer than that horrible forsaken bar. It smelled terrible there and the prices were even worse. Nothing was to your liking, but it was far from the last bar. The bar you made a second home of. 

The place you first met Jungkook. 

Jungkook. 

“Hobi, take me to him.” 

Hoseok looks over, giving you a hard face. “Absolutely not. You’re drunk.” 

You shake your head, shifting closer to him. “He won’t hurt me. I know him, Hobi. You can trust me.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, his jaw clenching. “You don’t know him Y/N. You slept with him a few times. That means nothing to me. I won’t allow this, sit back. Hurry up.” 

Hoseok was scary mad. So you sat back and collected yourself accordingly. It was the alcohol making you feel this way, it had to be. But, you couldn’t just let this go. 

You missed him. You missed his sweet touch. He was always so good to you. He’d never do anything to cause you harm. You had to convince Hoseok of that. 

“Hobi, listen to me,’ you begin, ‘Jungkook isn’t the person you think he is.” 

“Please Y/N, I don’t think anything of him because I don’t know him. Let it go.” Hoseok’s voice was firm, matter-of-fact even, and he was not going to change his mind any time soon. 

“Hobi, please. I’m being so serious right now, listen!” You beg, it's the least he could do, listen. 

Hoseok pulls off to the side of the road, turning the car off, face still solid. “Speak.” 

You gulp nervously. “Okay, Jungkook, he— he’s different. I know this sounds stupid but he is. Hobi, he makes me feel so good. I know how this sounds but it’s not like that, I swear. He cares for me, I know he does.” You whisper, sounding unsure and sure at the same time. You didn’t understand anything. 

“Do you hear yourself, Y/N? You’re drunk and begging me to take you to a stranger. I understand you think you both have some sorta history but this does not mean you know him.” He scolds. 

You groan, pulling at your hair. “I know I know. I’m not saying I know him but I do know him well enough to understand he’d never do anything to me. He wouldn’t harm me.”

“Okay, so let’s say I take you to him. How do you know he’s there? What is so urgent that you must see him right now in this state?” Hoseok crosses his arms. Now his face is emotionless, waiting for you to break it to him. 

“I just need to see him. It’s none of your business.” You hesitate, crossing your own arms. 

“Okay, then you won’t be seeing him today. I’ll take you home and you can see him tomorrow, when you are sober and stable enough. I’m sure you’ll go back to ignoring your feelings anyways, so this is on you. I tried.” Hoseok says, harshly. He turns the car back on again, eyes focusing back on the road. He wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings in any way, but he was tired of seeing you mope about a relationship you weren’t even in to begin with. With a person whose life you didn’t even know. He didn’t care who you dated, he just wanted to see you happy. Happiness is all he ever wished for you and Jia.

Hoseok didn’t know Jungkook nor did he care so much to get to know him, as long as you were happy nothing else mattered to him. 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you.” You finally say. 

Hoseok turns his attention back on you, a bit shocked you came to senses. “Go ahead.” He gestures.

“I feel I should apologize to him.” You confess. 

Hoseok looks confused. “About?”

You start playing with your fingers. “I don’t know, everything?”

Hoseok blinks.

“I– I’ve been ignoring him, well more like ignoring myself. My feelings. He doesn’t ask anything of me and I like that, but he doesn’t deserve to be left in the unknown like this.” 

“So, you plan to drop things with him? Officially?” Hoseok asks, curious eyes.

You think. “I don’t know. Maybe start with an apology and see where it goes from there.”

Hoseok nods. “Okay. How will we know he’s there?“

“Jungkook’s always there on Friday nights. He waits for me.”

Hoseok nods again. “Alright, sit back. I’m doing this only because I trust you and please, be safe.” 

Suddenly, you felt sober. The thought of facing Jungkook after a month felt so scary. Maybe he didn’t care about this like you did. After all, you both meant nothing to each other. It was just two adults sleeping together. Two adults that almost made love to each other. He was perfect.

“I know. I’ll be okay.” You say, trying to calm his nerves and maybe a bit of your own. 

—

Jungkook had been exactly where you expected him to be. He was in his hotel room watching a movie like he did every night waiting for time to pass. Every Friday night, he would start a movie and hope that by the end of it your knock would finally come, but it never did.

Not until today, weeks later.

“Y/N?” Jungkook looked more confused than anything. He didn’t expect you to show up at his door at almost one in the morning. He could tell you’d been out drinking. You looked beautiful, he thought. “What are you doing here?” 

Awkwardly, you shifted between your feet. “I don’t know.”

Jungkook gave you a small smile regardless. “Come inside, you must be cold.” He opens the door, gesturing for you to step inside.

“Thanks.” You drag your feet, making a seat in his fresh set of sheets. 

Jungkook leaves the room then comes back carrying a glass of water. “Here.”

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You take a sip, setting the glass upon his table stand. He takes a seat besides you, giving you enough distance. Preparing himself for whatever it was you had to say. 

You look around shifting nervously in place. “I don’t know where to start.” You confess, whispering. 

Jungkook shakes his head, he looks absolutely stunning. Jungkook was so easy to like. He was so patient. “Take your time. We don’t have to talk right now.” He pats your shoulder in support. 

He always knew what to say and what to do. 

This killed you most. 

“No we should. I— I have a lot to say.” 

“Okay. Go ahead.” Jungkook almost looks scared. Like if he’s afraid to hear the words that will come from your mouth. He wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans. You don’t like seeing him like that, you would never hurt him.

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” Jungkook’s dumbfounded. 

“I didn’t mean to leave for so long.” You explain. 

Jungkook shifts in his own seat, wetting his lips. “It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.” Jungkook was so kind. 

“I know. But, I’m still sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” You say, your hand tugging the sheets below you. “Did you wait for me?”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to hear his response. Though he should mean nothing to you, he did mean something. You just weren't sure what it was that you felt towards Jungkook. You felt stupid.

“Yes.” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to reply.

“Why?”

Jungkook feels his face get hot. “I— I don’t know.” He stammers. 

Jungkook hates his answer, but speaking to you was much harder than he thought it would be. He didn’t want to lose whatever it is he had with you. He felt something and he knew you could feel it too. 

“Then, I’m sorry for making you wait.” You whisper apologetically.

“It’s okay.” Jungkook's voice is so soft, calm. A gentle smile sets on his face. 

Warm. 

“I really like having sex with you.” Your own eyes widen at your choice in words. What the fuck did you just do? You didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. But, you couldn’t think of any better way to confess to him, especially in that exact moment. Maybe, you both could have each other in different ways. Ways that didn’t involve committing so easily. You couldn’t imagine keeping up with a relationship right now and maybe you feared rejection, so you decided to lead with that.

Jungkook didn’t seem bothered however. You were lucky Jungkook was so similar to you. Nothing you could say could bother him. 

His smile widening. “I really like having sex with you too.” His fingers find yours on the bed, brushing against them lightly. “Is that all you came to say?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “Uh— yeah. No.”

He blinks, letting you continue your thoughts.

“Well yes. I just— I don’t want to stop seeing you and I totally understand if you aren’t into that you know, being that you have a daughter, responsibilities, I mean I understand you since I’m in the same position but I—,” you ramble but Jungkook’s lips cut you off, carefully pressing softly against yours. 

You close your eyes for a second enjoying the moment, but he pulls off too soon. You wish you could live that moment a million times. 

“Okay.” Jungkook says.

“Okay? That's it?” You question, still in shock. You could feel his sweet chapstick tingling on your lips.

He nods. “I want to keep seeing you too, in whatever way you allow me.”

“Okay.” You nod. “Then, that’s all, I guess.”

“Okay.”

“We should set some boundaries.”

Jungkook seems confused once again. “Boundaries?”

“Well, if we are gonna be sleeping together, there should be some set boundaries.” You reiterate. 

“Okay.” Jungkook agrees. “You can start.” 

“Okay. We should always use a condom. You go.” 

“Done. Um, I don’t really think I have any boundaries. You can go.”

“Okay. I think we should keep meeting here. Sleeping at each other’s houses seems too… domestic.” 

That hurt Jungkook a bit. Maybe he wished your relationship was a bit more domestic. After all, Jungkook knew he felt something more for you than usual, but if this is what it took to keep seeing you then he was willing to adapt. 

“Okay.”

“Okay. You should take my number down.”

“Oh— oh yeah okay.” Jungkook reaches over to his table and picks up the device. His lockscreen being a picture of him and his daughter, they looked well dressed as if they had a special event to attend. Jungkook and his daughter were smiling ear to ear, cheek to cheek. “Here.”

You smile, rapidly typing in your phone number and sending a quick text to your own. “There. Now, I have yours too.”

He nods, a ping shortly follows coming from your phone. “Now what?”

“Now, we text each other. You know, whenever we are in need. If we are both willing and able then we meet up, have sex, and leave like usual.”

Jungkook nods. “Okay. Then, I have… one condition.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Don’t run off like you usually do. You can take your time. I’ll clean you off, we’ll talk and then you can leave.” 

“Talk?” 

“Mm, about anything. Just talk to me.” 

“Fine.” You sigh. “Anything else?”

He shakes his head, his hair following the movement. He was breathtaking, you got so lucky, you thought. 

“Good. I should go.” You stood up, taking your belongings with you. “I’ll call an uber.” 

“No need. You’ve been drinking. I’ll drive you home.” Jungkook puts on his slides following close behind you.

“No. This was enough.”

“It's just a ride, Y/N. If after this you don’t want to accept a single ride from me then fine, you can find your own, but I won’t allow you to go out like this, especially alone.” Jungkook looks at you with caring eyes. 

He was so sweet, so good to you. 

He couldn’t be real.

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

He took you home that night. And it wouldn’t be the last time he did. 

—

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, did I interrupt? I texted you.” 

Jungkook looked down at his phone, he was busy doing paperwork and never got your ‘you up?’ text in time. “I wasn’t on my phone. ‘M sorry.”

“Oh. Sorry. I can leave.”

“No.” 

You look up at him, he looked ready to devour you just in the matter of a few seconds. 

Jungkook pulls you in by your waist into his room, something he was already familiar with, shutting the door behind you. His lips found purchase on your quickly, taking your breath away almost instantly.

You and Jungkook promised over text to meet each other at least twice a week to fulfill both your needs. Already too quickly, the compromise was broken. You both didn’t care though. It had been the third time this week you saw him. Slipping away during lunch, coming late nights, any free time you had was spent aside Jungkook. It was perfect. 

“Jungkook.” You breathe out in the middle of the kiss. It was crazy how different every time felt with him. 

“Mm.” His voice vibrates into your mouth, biting your lip softly. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

You giggle into his lips. “Jungkook.”

He pops off your lips, raising his eyebrows. “Yes baby?” His hands cradling the back of your neck. You didn’t like when Jungkook held you like that, it all felt too…  domestic. Or maybe you did like it, a little too much. 

Ignoring your own feelings, your hands wandered Jungkook’s body, squeezing his waist. “I had a very rough day at work today.” 

“You did baby?” Jungkook's eyes go soft. 

All too domestic. 

But you loved every second of it.

“Mhm.” You hum, stealing a peck.

“I’ll take care of you baby.” Jungkook promises, leaning in to kiss you once more. This time, it was more intense than before. His hand tracing your back pushing you harder against his front. He wanted to feel you everywhere. 

His hands soon found the back of your thighs forcing you to jump into his arms. His tongue toying against yours, driving a whine out your lips.

You break the kiss following his sharp jaw with your lips kissing him just how he liked it. Jungkook’s legs found the bed dropping you both into it, letting you stay on top of him. 

“You smell so fucking good, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, your tongue licking his neck biting it sweetly. “Mmh. You’re so needy. Was the past nights not enough?”

“Nope.” You deliver one last peck before moving back to his lips devouring them like they were your only source of oxygen left. Jungkook’s hands traveled all over you, before finding a tight grip on your ass pushing his hips against yours. You soon started to mirror his movements feeling him grow harder against you. A gasp slipping from your lips, feeling his palm smack your ass. 

Jungkook broke the kiss this time, careful when flipping your back onto the mattress. Jungkook was aching to see you completely bare underneath him, as if the past few days you both hadn’t made more than enough time for each other’s pleasure. Jungkook was just that good. This had been the best deal of your life, maybe one day you would regret or he would, but not now. 

Jungkook stripped you out from your clothes, his eyes tracing every curve. His mouth came down to lap around your tender nipple, the bud hardening against his sinful tongue. You couldn’t help but whimper as he tugged at it gently. 

He placed a hand on your hip. “Don’t be quiet, let me hear those sweet sounds.” Jungkook rasps.

Then his hand came up taking your other hardened bud between his fingers making sure neither side was unattended, you were everything but quiet.

You were quick to learn everything about Jungkook. Even before the agreement, he was very obvious about what he enjoyed and you liked that he wasn’t shy to do what he pleased. Whatever he wanted, he took and you did the same, feeding off each other’s desperation. 

Jungkook left his marks around your tender flesh burying his face between both breasts. He definitely had a thing for them.

“Jungkook.” Your voice was weaker than you’d like.

He looked up, lips parted, catching his breath. “Mm?”

“Lay down.”

Jungkook did just that. 

“So fucken needy.” Jungkook hissed, watching you tug his sweats down along with his briefs. His cock sprung out already hard smacking his abdomen, swollen at the tip. You savored the sight. 

You took his length in your hands, wrapping your tanty fingers around it. Your mouth came close to it before spitting on his sticky tip.

“Did you just spit on my dick?” Jungkook breathes out, eyes blown out.

“Mhm.” You nod innocently.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” Jungkook nearly growls, cock twitching as your hands start pumping his length.

You take him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip of his pretty dick. You hummed at the salty taste, he was fucking delicious. 

“Fuck baby, just like that.” Jungkook shivers, wetting his lips as he watches you take him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. Your spit started dripping down your lips down his length, every time you came up to the crown of his head. “You suck my cock so well.”

Your eyes started watering as you swallowed him whole, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jungkook buckled his hips forward feeling your warm mouth around him. He started to chase his own orgasm, gripping the back of your hair pushing your head deeper. Then thrusting his cock faster into your wet mouth.

His lips parted, leaving out breathy moans. “Oh, fuck. I’ll come like this.”

Hands pumped him faster, sucking around his swollen crown, taking your time with it. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, he was so close. And it didn’t take long. 

His breath hitched watching you pump his essense down your throat, swallowing every last bit of that salty taste. “Just like that, oh fuck baby.” Jungkook whimpered, rolling his head back.

Catching his breath, Jungkook pulled you back on top of him, tasting himself between kisses. “Such a good little slut. I’m gonna fuck you so good. Okay baby?”

You nod desperately tugging at his messy curls biting his bottom lip with purpose. The problems you once had at work seemed like nothing. Now, all you could think of was Jungkook’s cock buried deep within your legs. He was all that mattered.

Jungkook patted your side. “Lay down for me. I’m gonna take care of you.” 

You always did what you were told. Jungkook was good at many things, but he was even better at eating you out. Always taking his time with you, leaving your legs shaking for hours. Nothing could compare to the way he made you feel.

Jungkook didn’t waste any time. His mouth attaching to your dripping folds almost instantly. 

“So fucken wet and I haven’t even done anything to you.” Jungkook murmurs. “You want my cock that bad?” Jungkook purrs against your clit, flicking it at a vicious speed. 

You throw your head back, face flushed. “Nnghh. Fuck. Yes.”

Jungkook softly bites your nub forcing a strangled moan out of you. “Answer me cockslut.”

“Yes, I do. I want your cock so fucking bad. Oh.” You moan desperately, his tongue soothing the bite lapping your sweet juices into his mouth, burying his nose deep within your entrance.

“Good girl.” He rasps, not bothering to come off your pulsing clit. 

“Fuck me, I’m gonna come.” You whine, feeling his nails dig deeper into your thighs while he devours you furiously. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Come all over my tongue, baby. Always so fucking sweet.” 

Almost immediately after your legs buckled reaching your climax, dripping right onto his tongue. “Fuh—fuck Jungkook fuck. Nghh.”

He made sure to clean up with his tongue fairly well. Finally, coming back up to peck your parted lips. You felt yourself drop deeper into the sheets already feeling lightheaded. Only Jungkook had the power to leave you feeling this way.

“Tired?” Jungkook asks, doe-eyes softening. 

You definitely weren’t going to leave this hotel room without fucking him. Your throbbing needy pussy would never forgive you. 

You shook your head, propping back up. “No, fuck me.”

Jungkook laughed against your throat pressing an open kiss behind your ear. “Anything you want.”

Jungkook quickly reached over to find his box of condoms tearing it instantly, fitting the rubber tightly around his length. Your legs, already spread out for him. 

He took his cock, placing it at the beginning of your entrance, slowly pushing himself in, not once taking his eyes off. Almost synchronously, you both moaned as he bottomed out.

“Uhh— fuck, Jungkook you feel so good.” Sweet melodies left your lips, Jungkook then snapped his hips forward fucking deeply into you. “Fuckkk.”

His hair started to stick to his forehead, sweat dripping down the sides of his face, fucking you exactly like he originally promised. 

His hands gripping behind your thighs forcing them apart, setting a brutal pace between your legs. His own moans dripped from his lips. “Ughh. Such a tight little cunt.” He sneers. 

You swallow audibly, dropping your head back against the sheets, feeling the ache between your thighs growing. “Fuh— faster Jungkook, right there.”

Jungkook increased the pace, hitting right against the sweet spot between your walls. His lips teasing right below your neck, pressing his lips against it. 

Jungkook felt like he could fuck you forever.

“You like that baby?” He pants, desperately pumping himself into you, his thighs smacking the back of your thighs. 

All you could do was nod. Jungkook knew he was fucking you well, he didn’t have to ask. But now that you knew his name, he would love to hear you use it often and loudly. Jungkook had possessive tendencies during sex, it was a curse and a blessing in disguise.

Jungkook smacked the side of your ass, barely hard enough to leave his handprint. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good. Let me hear you.”

The only response that came from you was shaky gasp, Jungkook was fucking you so good. Shoving his big cock frantically into your needy cunt, he was fucking hungry. His eyes filled with lust, making you feel all of him.

“I asked you a question.” Jungkook grunted, feeling your warm walls pump his cock deliciously. “Answer the question baby.”

You don’t even remember the stupid question right now, feeling intensifyingly close to your high. “Hm?”

“Who’s fucking you this good, huh?” He rasps, forcing your face to make direct eye contact with his.

“You Jungkook, you.” You breathe out, fucked completely. You gave up trying to fight how badly you were enjoying this. You wanted Jungkook to make you forget everything. And that’s exactly what he was doing. 

The answer obviously satisfies him enough to buckle his hips faster into yours, your legs trembling underneath him. You were frantically moaning, reacting to his every move. 

“That’s right baby.” Jungkook kissed your cheek softly, making you melt, your face was burning up. “Say my fucking name.” His voice is possessive, needy almost. “Uh, I could fuck you forever.” 

“J— Jungkook Jungkook, oh fuckkk.” Your moans started to grow louder, you were so fucking close.

“I can feel you. You’re so close, baby.” Jungkook moans as you wrap your legs around him tightly, begging him to stay inside you. “That’s it baby, come on this fucken cock. Mark it yours.”

“Oh fuh— fuck, Jungkook. Fuck.” You came completely undone, losing your vision instantly, your back arching with every given thrust. The pleasure between your legs felt so intense and Jungkook fell close behind you grunting as he pumped the last of his seed inside the condom. 

Both of you came crashing down, Jungkook falling close to your side, catching his breath. You actually enjoyed cooling down with him more than you’d like to admit. It felt nice being cared for after sex, even if it took him a whole five minutes to get up. You actually enjoyed it. He always made sure to get you whatever it was you needed. Jungkook was just too good at everything.

“You okay baby?” Jungkook coos after leveling his breathing. He took the filled rubber off, disposing of it. 

“Mhm.” You answer weakly.

Jungkook laughs, fondly, his nose scrunching. 

You liked that so much about Jungkook.

Jungkook was so beautiful.

“I’m sorry baby. Let me clean you up.” Jungkook left and soon came back with a wet rag, wiping carefully around your sensitive flesh. “You feeling better?”

You nod. “I’m sleepy.”

“We can nap before I take you home?” Jungkook already knew your answer to his suggestion.

“No, it’s okay. Let's talk now?” 

Jungkook nodded, not pushing it. 

That night you guys talked about your first time getting a job and what that was like. 

To your surprise, you found out Jungkook’s first job was delivering pizzas. His boss would promise him that his pretty face would bring him a lot of money, which it did at the time, but not for long before regulars stopped tipping. You also found out how much Jungkook loved eating cheesy pizza even after working there for two years. You couldn’t even imagine a man like him working in such a place, he was just like everyone else. 

Jungkook was not at all surprised to hear that your first job was babysitting. After seeing a glimpse of your relationship with your daughter, he knew you were a wonderful mother. He didn’t question that one bit. Jungkook grew fonder of you that night as he did every other night he spent by your side, and you of him. 

Talking with Jungkook was never boring and it wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would be. 

Jungkook made things feel so easy, life was simple.

It was easy to get used to.

Warm.

--

a.n: i'm so sorry this is so late :} i hope this update makes up for how late i was thank you for the support <333

[simpleeshea]

On the clock!

C!Wilbur x Gn! reader

Next chapter>

Chapter 1.

Strange stories-

I burst my way into the doors, smiling brightly as my eyes catch onto just the man I was looking for. I stand expectantly at the counter as his head was ducked down, presumably looking at his phone or reading as he often did. "I'll be with you in just a moment he said," not looking to see who I was just pausing to grab a bookmark— Ah, so it was a book.

I tap my foot and cross my arms until he finally looks up to see who I was.

"Oh!" his face immediately lifted into a smile. I had learned that he didn't smile often, so when he did I took mental notes of what had made him happy. "Y/n, I didn't think you worked today?" he asked questionably.

I roll my eyes and give him a long exasperated sigh, "Yeah well, what's-his-shit asked me if I could cover his shift," I said pointing to the storage closet where I was sure the teen was hiding out. I could never remember his name, I only worked with him one out of the five days I work and he hadn't been there for very long (not to mention that he was one of many teenagers who come in here looking for a job before soon after quitting because of how much work Wilbur and I shoved off on them to do.)

Wilbur nods, peeking around the counter toward the storage closet. "You mean Daniel? I didn't know he was leaving."

I scoff, "Daniel... is that right?" I pause for a moment before shrugging it off, "Well, neither did I until thirty minutes ago," my brows furrow before I walk away to bang on the closet door.

"What!" a loud yell comes from inside before the blonde-haired boy poked his head out. "Oh, it's just you," he said coldly. He stepped out of the closet, cigarette, and cell phone in hand with his messages opened texting someone labeled as "Baby momma😩🥴" My nose crinkled in disapproval, quickly snatching away the cigarette from his hand.

My brow raised, "Last I checked you were only seventeen..." I turned to look at Wilbur, "Did I miss a few years?"

Wilbur scoffed with a dry laugh as he kept flipping pages in his book, "I'm fairly certain I saw you yesterday... so no."

I turned back to the boy with a smirk before nodding my head toward the front door. He turned to walk away, grumbling silent curses under his breath. The bell chimed as he harshly opened the door and walked away.

"He forgot to clock out," Wilbur said, his nose still in his book.

I shook my head, feeling around for the lighter in my pocket. "I'll do it for him later."

Wilbur's eyes left his book, looking at me and the cigarette. "Did you just jack that kid's smoke?" he nearly laughed.

"Uhh... yeah!" I said as if it was obvious, "he's a bitch."

"That's twenty-five cents," Wilbur motioned over toward the swear jar sitting behind the counter.

I frown, "You should hear half of the shit that kid said before walking outside."

"Another twenty-five," he counted, "and yes, I heard, he owes at least a dollar fifty."

I roll my eyes and smile, pulling out my wallet to collect fifty cents. Walking behind the counter, Wilbur watched as I stuff my change into the jar with my name stuck to the side of it. "Ya' know," I say, stepping back to look at the swear jars with each person's name labeled on their respective jars, "Manager Ken is never here... but somehow that man has the most change in his jar every month."

Wilbur looked up from his book to glance at the jars. Wilbur and I had always been close each month along with whatever teen had picked up the job, but Manager Ken's jar had always been full of change at the end of the month.  "Well," Wilbur started off, "When he is here, you might as well call him a sailor."

For whatever reason I smile, turning to look at Wilbur whose gaze was settled back onto his book. "Wilbur?" I ask abruptly, catching his attention but not enough for him to turn away from his page, "Want to take a smoke break?" I smirk, holding up the unused cigarette in my hand and pulling out my lighter.

Wilbur sat down his book, but not before placing his light blue bookmark with some cheesy quote on it in his book. I had bought him that bookmark, that one along with two others. They came in a pack and despite the awful quotes, I felt he would make use of them.

Wilbur looked behind him where all of the packs of cigarettes were kept on display. "Say all you want about Manager Ken," I began, "but man do I love him for letting us have cigarettes on the job.

"How can you work without a good smoke?" Wilbur said quoting the aforementioned manager.

I laughed before taking steps toward the back door with Wilbur following behind. I fiddled with the lighter in my pocket as I pushed the back door to find that it didn't open. "Pull not push," Wilbur stated as soon as I remembered.

"God I hate this door," I pulled and sure enough it opened, after a year of working here you'd think I'd learn, but I never had. "It just feels like it should be a push door," I announce to him as the desert sun beams harshly against my skin.

"I mean it is if you are walking inside, not out," he told me as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat. I quickly pulled off my jacket, hating the feeling of the heat, and tossed it to the side. Of course, I grasped onto my lighter before discarding the light-weighted coat. I cupped my hand around the cigarette and lit the end of it and inhaled it as if it was my lifeline.

I tossed Wilbur my lighter which he caught gracefully. "How do you keep that... what do you call it? Trench coat? How do you keep it on in this heat?" I asked with a frown as I blew the smoke out of my mouth.

Wilbur lit his cigarette before handing me back the lighter. "It's not that hot out here," he shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"It's like a million degrees out here!" I shouted, "Not that hot out here, pshh-" I mocked as my eyes rolled at him.

Wilbur sighed, holding his cigarette in his mouth while he pulled at his sleeves to take off his coat. He took the cigarette from his lips, holding it in one hand and his coat in the other before taking a long drawn-out breath.

My brows furrowed into a frown as I looked at his tall stature. Wilbur had this weird state of being that made him almost appear fake, or not even alive. I could see him breathing in front of my face, but that was the only thing that really confirmed to me that he was living. It seemed like an odd thought to think, of course, he was living, he was a person just like me... but it still confused my brain.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" he asked as his lips formed into a small smirk before falling back flat into his stern expression that he preferred to keep.

"Maybeee," I said drawn out and bored, "you've got quite a bit of you to look at," I made a jab at his height before taking another drag from my cigarette.

Wilbur chuckled under his breath. "I have no control over my height, Y/n," he said as if he had to remind me.

I nod silently, blowing heavy smoke from my mouth and watching as it wafted upward.

"So," I start off awkwardly, "how's your book going?"

"The one I'm reading or the one I'm writing?" Wilbur laughed as if the question I asked him was a joke.

Not knowing what to do I laugh too. "The one you're writing," I clarify, to which he nods with a small smile on his lips as he takes another drag from his cigarette. Asking about his book always made him smile, so I made a point to ask about it often.

"Right," he nodded, letting the smoke trail from his mouth. "Where did I last leave off?"

"Uhmm," I pondered for a moment, trying to remember what he had last told me from his book. "I believe you had left off by telling me of your character's plan to hold an election."

Wilbur's smile dropped for a moment but he quickly spread it back over his face. "Ah! Yes, I remember," he said as his voice trailed off and his brain seemed to sort through files and files of thoughts. "I was telling Tommy how I planned to hold an election."

It had always amazed me how Wilbur could recount the details from his book so perfectly as if he had really been there. It was also odd to me that he wrote himself as the main character and one of his real friends that he often talked about writing to as a character as well. (Secretly I wished that if we became good enough friends, then he would write me in as a character as well.) I supposed it wasn't too weird to write a book about yourself, I had seen it done in fanfiction plenty of times before, but never in real books.

"So what happened in the election?"

Wilbur paused, tapping the end of his cigarette to drop the burning ashes on the ground. He took a long drag before blowing the smoke out and tossing the rest of the cigarette to the ground. He smushed it into the ground under his shoe. "Well, it certainly didn't go as planned," he explained. I listened intently, preparing to hear tales of the day he had to entice my brain with.

"Tommy and I planned to hold an election in secret. There would be no mention of the election until all of the ballots were closed so the only option people had to vote for would be yours truly."

"So you planned to scam your own nation?" I asked with a small laugh. Wilbur nodded in response. "That seems to be a trend with you and Tommy. Scamming people, I mean."

Wilbur smirked, "Yes. It was what we were good at."

I lifted my head in half nod to show that I was listening. "So... if you were so good at scamming people, how did it go wrong?"

Wilbur frowned, I wasn't sure if it was at the jab I made at him or the thought of how things went wrong. “Tommy… he had a friend.”

My brows turn downward, I was beginning to catch on to where the story was going.

“His name was Quackity-“

“I’m sorry what!?” my face contorted into a confused laugh. “Why did you name him Quackity, is he part duck?”

Wilbur seemed to laugh under his breath but nodded. “Yes, he had these golden duck wings.”

“Ooo,” I nodded, now seeming much more interested in the character. “I bet writing a character with wings is pretty difficult to portray.”

Wilbur shook his head, “No, not really.” I watched as he stretched out his arms wide, his bones popping a cracking in various places before he let out a sigh of relief. “We should step back inside… carry on the story where it’s not so hot,” he announced.

I nod as I go to grab my jacket but pause briefly to say, “I thought it wasn’t hot out here, tough guy?”

He chuckled dryly, “Yes, well I suppose the heat has finally gotten to me.” He takes his giant coat and tucks it into one arm before pushing the backdoor open. “Are you coming, or aren’t you?” he asks with a teasing smirk while holding the door open for me.

I quickly pick my feet up and walk under his arm as he held the door from the opposite side— a show of his height I was sure.

“Figured I’d hold the door open for you since you aren’t familiar with the concept of doors,” he teased dryly.

I rolled my eyes in playful annoyance. “I’m well aware of how to open doors.”

“Yesterday you were telling me a story of how you ran into Walmart’s automatic doors,” he stated plainly, walking back behind the counter and taking a seat on the stool.

Quickly in defense, I hollered, “It was supposed to open by itself!”

“Clearly it wasn’t open though.”

“I was talking to a friend,” I pouted, almost giving up on my falling apart defense.

“You have friends?” Wilbur asked, seeming genuinely shocked. I frowned and scrunched my nose up at him. The shock lifted from his face as he laughed at me, it became clear to me that he had been faking his previous expression.

“Not cool, man.”

He laughed a little louder, which brought a small smile to my face. I tried to hide it, embarrassed because of how easily he made fun of me.

“Very cool,” Wilbur corrected as he picked up his book, opening it to his bookmarked page.

The store went quiet for a moment as I slid behind the counter to look over his shoulder at the book he was reading. “I thought you were going to talk about your book?” I asked in a teasing tone, “is your memory that bad old man?”

He looked over at me with a frown present on his face, “I’m not much older than you.”

I laughed teasingly. “It appears I’ve aged better than you,” I said, poking fun at the prominent white streak in his hair.

“I’m sorry?” he said, placing his book down in his lap, not bothering to mark the page. “I have you know that I’ve aged like a fine wine.”

“More like milk,” I corrected him.

He shook his head in a laugh before mumbling something I couldn’t make out. “I’ll tell you more about my book tomorrow,” he said as his laughter calmed and the store quietened.

I nodded as I pulled out a stool of my own and sat down and laid my chin down on the counter, pulling out my phone and headphones to watch a show. This was how work went, everything sat in blissful silence as Wilbur read some books and I watched movies. Wilbur and I often talked, we had become really good friends over the course of working together, poking fun at teenagers, smoking together, and sometimes stealing liquor as well. This job is my haven. If I hadn’t found it, I’d be living on the street, or worse… still going to college to get some degree just to appease my parents. I didn’t want that, I wanted to live my own life. And so here I am with Wilbur and this station, the only things worth any value to me.

A/n

Updates gonna be hecka slow

[pengychan]

[Baldur’s Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 8

Title: Hell to Pay Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. Some inside help from ‘the devil they know’ would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it? Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll. Rating: M Status: In progress

All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog. Also on Ao3.

*** So, a rogue and a bard walk into an inn... ***

“You know, Durge, I don’t mean to insult Gale - he is the smartest man I know, probably - but coming up with names is probably not his strongest suit. Durge lacks a certain… I don’t know, it lacks a certain…”

“Je ne sais quoi?”

It was rare for Raphael to speak a single word while they made their way towards Baldur’s Gate through the night.  As much as Raphael clearly loved the sound of his own voice when he held all the cards, he was much less inclined to speak now that he was markedly at a disadvantage. He usually walked at the back in sullen silence, with Wyll and Durge right in front of him carrying a torch and Astarion and Halsin further ahead, putting their darkvision to use. To be honest, sometimes as they talked among them they almost forgot he was there. His voice made them recoil, and turn back.

“Was that Infernal?” Halsin asked, and got a shrug in reply.

“Something similar.”

“Abyssal, then? The language of demons?” Astarion guessed.

“That does depend on who you ask,” Raphael replied. He didn’t seem inclined to add any further clarification, and the conversation turned to other matters as they walked through much of the night.

However, a few hours later Wyll went back to… well, names. If it were up to him, Durge mused, everyone would have such impressive-sounding names, no name would seem at all impressive anymore.

“I have grown attached to Durge, I’m afraid,” they chuckled. “Odd as it sounds. I think I may just stick with it.”

Wyll made a vague gesture with the hand carrying the torch. “I understand, but you could add something. For a little more flair.”

“I take it you have suggestions?”

“How about… D’urge?”

“... That’s exactly the same?”

“But, with an apostrophe!”

“Why?”

“Ah, a y is indeed a good letter, but not the best for every name. Dyrge doesn’t quite click, does it? Although perhaps--”

“Is this kind of talk how you bested the Netherbrain?” Raphael spoke up. He somehow sounded both weary and genuinely curious. “I for one can feel the contents of my skull shrink with every word you push past your lips.”

“I can take a dagger to your ears if you think that would help,” Astarion suggested without turning, and Raphael had the good sense not to respond. However, Halsin did turn, as did Durge.  For Raphael to speak during their nightly marches was rare enough, but what really caught their attention was how weary he sounded - and it probably wasn’t because his brain was truly shrinking.

In the flicker of the torch Durge couldn’t see him as clearly as Halsin surely did, but when he stumbled on a root and barely caught himself before falling, they did notice how it took him a few moments to actually regain his footing. 

“... You seem a little tired,” Halsin said, not unkindly. “Perhaps we should have ended that sparring march earlier than we did, after all. Did you not get enough rest before we set off?”

“I am perfectly fine,” Raphael snapped, and staggered again in a way that very much suggested he was not perfectly fine. To be fair he had recently recovered form grievous injuries, they had been walking through the night for nearly a week with heavy backpacks, and he was very much dealing with the limitations of a human body that was, frankly, a few years past its prime. 

When Durge instinctively reached out to catch him, he leaned heavily on their arm rather than pulling away like he’d touched-- well, a rat. It made them all pause, and Durge cast Dancing Lights to better illuminate their surroundings. Once they could see clearly, Durge could tell that Halsin’s choice to describe him as ‘a little tired’ had been a kindness in itself: he looked exhausted.

“I think we have covered enough distance to warrant an early stop,” Durge said. After all, they were only hours away from dawn, and the drizzle that had bothered them through most of the night was starting to turn into actual rain. Against their feverishly warm scales, Raphael felt cold even through clothes; that may very well be the reason why he was not pulling away. 

“... If we can push ahead just another couple of hours, we should reach a town on this side of the Chionthar,” Wyll spoke, gesturing to the path ahead with the torch and forcing Astarion to duck under it. “It’s called Sunridge. We passed right by it last time, but it has a really nice inn. They make some of the best rabbit in wine-currant sauce I’ve ever tasted. If the day will be as rainy as tonight promises, it would be nice to spend it in a room with actual beds in it.”

“Wyll, that sounds excellent. Not the rabbit, not for me, but a warm room and a real bed would be very much welcome,” Astarion declared, and turned back. “If the old man can bear another short walk, that is. Ah, don’t look at me like that. You are by far the oldest here.”

“Speaking of bear, I could turn into one and carry him,” Halsin offered, gaining himself a laugh from Astarion and a snort from Raphael.

“You really only want an excuse to change form, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not. I can walk,” Raphael snapped, and pulled away from Durge. Before anyone could point out the obvious fact he’d likely collapse within the hour by the looks of it, he pulled out the lyre and played a few notes. The sense of relief was immediate, and Durge looked around to see the others looked perkier, too. Of course, they thought, the Song of Rest. Useful little spell, that. 

“Well, that was nice,” Wyll commented, gaining himself a scoff from Raphael. The magic had helped with some of the exhaustion, but clearly not with his mood.

“Glad to be of service,” he muttered, not sounding glad in the slightest. “Let us head to the inn, then. I shall gladly bear the walk as long as you keep quiet.”

They did reach the town and its inn within a couple of hours, as Wyll had said, only to find that the inn had no vacant rooms. The disappointment was somehow mitigated by the fact that, despite the late hour - or early hour, depending on what side of the day one looked at it from - the innkeeper was still able to bring them a hot meal.

“We’re hosting our annual Three-Dragon Ante tournament, from noon through the evening, and we’re full with players who came to sign up from out of town,” she explained, placing hot soup, roast rabbit, candied almonds and mulled wine on the table. “I do have some space available in the attic, if you have nowhere else to go, but I doubt more than two people could squeeze in there. I am very sorry.”

“Ah, I see.” Wyll sighed. “No need to apologize, it was bad timing from our--”

“Actually, the attic sounds good to me,” Astarion cut him off, and smiled at the innkeeper, gesturing to Raphael. From his part, Raphael had finished the soup and bread in a few bites and was staring intently at the candied almonds. Very intently. A little odd, that, really. He must be more tired than they thought, Song of Rest and all. “Our friend here is exhausted, and I expect a few hours of rest on a proper mattress would do him good. If you could accommodate the two of us in the attic, we’d be truly grateful.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that can be arranged. I’ll have mattresses and blankets brought up, give it a quick clean while you finish your meal. What do you think?”

“I think you’re a lifesaver, my friend.” Another bright smile and the innkeeper was off, leaving Astarion to turn to Durge. “You don’t mind, do you, love? Someone has to keep an eye on him, may as well be me. Staying out of the rain for a while might make my hair more manageable, too,” he added with a sigh, running a hand through impossibly well-coffered hair. 

Later on, Durge would feel more than a little foolish for not immediately guessing Astarion was planning something: with the shared goal of getting to the Hells, there hadn’t really been any need to keep that close an eye on Raphael in the first place. But they were tired from the walk, and a little distracted by the fact Raphael was proceeding to absolutely demolish the entire dish of candied almonds by himself. They simply assumed Astarion wanted to sleep in a real bed for once, and couldn’t fault him for it. 

“Of course, it sounds good. We’ll camp nearby and be back at sundown,” they said. Astarion smiled, and turned to Halsin.

“I know you’re probably looking for an excuse to wander around on four legs again, but would you stay in the tent with them today? Their sleep hasn’t been great lately.”

“That’s not nece--” Durge began, only for Halsin to cut them off. 

“Of course, you need not even ask,” he said, with an eagerness that made Durge suspect they may not be getting a lot of sleep, and that settled it. The innkeeper announced the attic was ready just as they finished their meal, and they took their leave just as the sun rose.

Durge did not notice - none of them did - that their backpacks were only slightly lighter, their gold pouches gone.

***

When Israfel first arrived in Cania, all he had to hold onto was a bag of almond sweets.

There were other things he’d wanted to take with him, all his books and his lyre and his clothes, but everything had moved so fast. Duke Barbas - tall as he was wide, with a mane of black hair slicked with oil and flowing red robes - had refused a forced invitation to stay for a meal while Israfel gathered his belongings. Barbas had declined with a politeness that did little to conceal his disdain.

“As much as I’d love to accept, Lord Sunspear,” he’d said, very purposely misremembering the name, “I am in quite a hurry to return to Cania, as I have other duties to tend to and my liege lord is not a patient master. The boy’s belongings can be collected at a later time.”

Israfel had felt Lord Starspire’s hold on his shoulder tighten, pulling him closer to his side, but there was nothing he could do to keep him there and they both knew it. “His lordship can allow us a few minutes, I hope,” Lord Starspire had spoken, gaze low despite the furious tremor in his limbs, “for Israfel to--”

“Raphael,” Duke Barbas had cut him off, and dropped his gaze on Israfel. He’d smiled with no warmth. “Lord Mephistopheles is keen to choose the names of every spawn he welcomes home. Your name is Raphael.”

Israfel may have protested at being renamed like a dog changing master, if not for his surprise. He’d blinked, taken aback. “Mephistopheles? The archdevil?”

Barbas’ jet black eyebrows had gone up almost to his hairline. He glanced over at Lord Starspire, whose grip on Israfel's shoulder had turned heavy as stone. He looked surprised and oddly delighted. “You mean to tell me you never told the boy who sired?”

The man had swallowed, and looked down at Israfel, whose mind still reeled at the notion that his sire wasn’t just a devil, but the Lord of the Eighth. He had read stories about Lord Mephistopheles, his might and his fury, the power second only to that of Asmodeus himself. And he’d been reading about his father, all along? Israfel had stared at Lord Starspire, eyes wide, and the man’s own eyes seemed to veil with tears. 

“Forgive me, boy. I’d planned to tell you, but I’d grown to hope this day would never--”

“Well!” Duke Barbas exclaimed, clapping his hands once and causing both to recoil. “Now that that has been cleared up, I think it would be proper for Raphael to discard that disguise. He won’t be needing it anymore,” he added, gesturing vaguely at him.

Israfel had wanted to tell him it was no disguise, that this body was real and his own just as much as the one with horns and wings, but the devil before him had raised an impatient eyebrow and he’d suddenly felt very, very small. He’d breathed out and willed his form to change back, from human to fiend. It gained him that smile devoid of warmth again, and the weight of his stepfather’s hand on his shoulder was gone.

A satisfied click of his tongue, and Barbas had nodded. “Much better. Your Lord father summons you, little duke. You may say your goodbyes, but be quick.”

The goodbyes had been quick indeed and most of it had been a blur, too fast for his usually nimble mind to catch up. He’d remember Nan holding him tight, whispering something-- You’re loved here, promise your Nan you’ll remember that, come back see us -- and he’d remember a few people crying, and the cook pushing something in his hand, a small bag of his favorite almond sweets. 

Last had been Lord Starspire, who’d crouched and pulled him close in an embrace that Israfel-- not anymore, he had a new name now, didn’t he-- was too overwhelmed to return. He couldn’t make himself say anything, his tongue heavy as lead. “Be careful,” was all Lord Starspire managed to whisper in his ear, then he’d pulled back and stood. 

As the boy nodded and stepped back as well, Duke Barbas had cleared his throat. “Come, boy. It’s time to join your kind,” he’d called, holding out a hand. 

Raphael had taken it, and that-- love-- was that.

***

Astarion was not, usually, a details kind of guy. 

He saw little point in planning and plotting when, more often than not, some absolutely insane shit would inevitably happen and make all the aforementioned planning and plotting entirely useless. He’d rather just keep his knives sharp and close at hand, and his eyes peeled. 

This time, however, the situation did require some strategic planning and so plan he did. Quite brilliantly, if he said so himself, paragon of humbleness that he was. A perfect plan that would see them leave a couple dozen thousand pieces of gold richer, allowing them to get Helsik to open that portal to Avernus for them… and have enough left over to buy the best supplies available to give them a better chance at surviving the Hells than a literal snowball. It would all work out perfectly.

If the devil did indeed know how to play Three-Dragon Ante, of course. If not, Astarion hoped he was a very quick learner, or they would be utterly screwed. The others just might be a little cross to learn all their collective gold was gone. 

Ah well. The die was cast, and it was time to find out how it landed.

“Hey, old man, wake up,” Astarion called out, shaking Raphael by the shoulder. He made a noise, trying to shake his hand off, to no avail. “Come now, you’re fine. I’ve let you sleep almost six hours.”

“What do you want, spawn?” Raphael muttered, voice thick with sleep. He sat up, blinking, but of course he could see next to nothing in the dark. Not anymore. “What time is it?”

“It’s time you get up and play your part to win us some gold, that’s what.”

“Wha--”

“Because we do need gold. Badly. You can play Three-Dragon Ante, yes?”

Raphael grunted, running a hand over his face. “I can play any game you mortals ever dreamed up and several you never did, obviously. But what--”

“And are you any good?”

“I am not going to deign that with an answer.”

“I’ll take it as a yes. Great. Come downstairs, the tournament is about to start.”

Raphael’s hand stilled midway through brushing back his hair. Astarion could see him frown while putting two and two together. “... The tournament the innkeeper kept going on about - you signed me up?”

“I did, so you can win that nice prize of ten thousand gold pieces. And I bet all of our money on you, so if we’re to pay our way into Hells, you know what to do.”

“And you didn’t think of asking me--”

Astarion laughed. “Don’t be absurd, of course I did! But you would have said no. Plus the others would have said no, and we really don’t need all that nonsense. It’s a nice simple plan, really. You go downstairs, sit your ass on a chair, and don’t get up until you’ve won every single game and claimed the prize. That should be easy for you. Unless, of course, you think you may lose to mortals.”

“If that’s an attempt at goading me into doing your bidding, it’s amateurishly transparent and--”

“By the way, if anyone asks, your name is Wulbren Bongle.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, darling. Up now, they won’t wait for you. And stop frowning, I’m sure beating scores of people at something will make you feel good.”

Raphael scoffed. “Would stepping on insects make you feel good?” he muttered, and Astarion smiled in the dark. 

“Yes, actually.”

“... Of course it would,” Raphael muttered, but he did start feeling around for his boots, and Astarion considered the argument won.

***

“So, you found him well.”

“I’d say well is somewhat of an overstatement. He’s doing acceptably, for someone who was only recently turned into a mere mortal. Certainly an improvement from the state he was in when I took him to the Material Plane, though I regret to inform you his skill in bed has not likewise improved.”

“... That was not among my most pressing queries. Or anywhere among my queries.”

“Ah, I suppose that is not something that’s usually shared with one’s mother, hmm? Apologies.”

“You don’t look very sorry.”

“Don’t take it personally, dear. I’m never sorry for anything.”

Dalah held back a sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I am no one’s mother,” she muttered. In the back of her mind, she remembered being terrified as months passed and her belly swelled. She’d heard enough stories to know what fate befell any mortal mother of a half-fiend, but ending the pregnancy would gain her an archdevil’s ire, and her husband’s certain death on the battlefield. In the end, it had been for Rahirek. It had always been for him.

She remembered locking herself in her rooms when flowing robes could no longer hide her state, and she remembered spending nights awake praying to any gods she knew of. She remembered what she promised, too.

Let me live, and I’ll learn to love the child. 

But she had not lived, and that promise no longer mattered.

“... I was but the means to bring a spawn of Mephistopheles into the world,” she muttered in the end, her voice bitter as bile. Haarlep tilted their head. 

“Well, you were rather successful. Half-fiends seldom live all that long. The least impressive ones are meat for the Blood War, and the more impressive ones tend to bite off more than they can chew sooner or later, and pay the price. Raphael lasted more than  most. I am pretty sure he is Mephistopheles’ oldest living son, really.”

“It seems to me he did bite off more than he could chew.”

A shrug. “Eventually, yes. But it was always going to happen. That’s how cambions are.”

“That’s how all devils are.”

“Cambions most of all. Nearly all of them think they have something to prove, the silly things.” A shrug, and they grabbed an orange from a silver tray next to the bed. “And how’s the other half of him faring?”

“It’s hard to tell. It-- he seems restless. But he hasn’t attacked anyone without provocation. He has some form of control over himself, at least.”

“And the little trick with the name still works?”

“Yes. He stills whenever I speak it. He almost let me-- I think he may have let me touch him.”

“Good thing you didn’t, or you’d have to make do without hands. Still, interesting. It wasn’t a fluke, then.” Haarlep smiled, seemingly delighted, and finished peeling the orange to eat a slice. “That may be very useful.”

“Useful for what? What is it she’s planning?”

“My lips are sealed. You know that.” A pause, and they shrugged before eating another slice. “As in for talking, not for--”

Dalah held back a groan. “Yes, I know what you mean,” she muttered, already regretting trying to get an answer out of the incubus. They were far from the worst company to keep in Mephistar - not that it was a high bar to step over - but the longer any conversation went, the more she found herself thinking that being torn from the inside out while birthing a devil was perhaps not the most excruciating thing she had ever gone through after all. 

“It’s not personal of course. She clearly trusts you to a degree - why else task you to give him the ring?”

Because it’s on me, Dalah thought. He’s my doing as much as Mephistopheles’. 

Still, she chose to ignore the question. “Have you spoken with her at all since last time?” she asked instead. Duke Baalphegor could change her appearance just as easily as Haarlep could change theirs; it made sense that any communication would take place between the two of them, who knew in what disguises. It was the most sensible way to go about it, and Duke Baalphegor was nothing if not sensible. She had to be, to keep her loyalty to both Asmodeus and Mephistopheles for so many centuries. Until recently, that was.

In an official capacity at least, no one really knew the reason why Mephistopheles’ long-time consort had left Mephistar quite so suddenly. However, for the many qualities even his victims could begrudgingly recognize Mephistopheles possessed, subtlety was not among them. His bursts of temper were not all that rare, but few recalled seeing one quite as terrible as the one that had followed the disappearance of the Crown of Karsus from his vault. 

… That may be partly due to the fact that most close witnesses to his tantrums rarely lived to tell the tale, truth be told, but that day his fury had been felt throughout the citadel, and probably through the entire glacier it was perched upon. And while there were many accusations one may move against the devils who formed the upper crust of Mephistar’s hierarchy, no one could accuse them of being stupid. They had immediately noticed that Duke Baalphegor had seemingly disappeared immediately afterwards, and put two and two together. More or less.

Among them, some whispered that Mephistopheles had destroyed her because he thought she’d played a role in the theft of the Crown; others said he had taken her prisoner. Others yet, more shrewd, knew that even in anger Mephistopheles would not risk Asmodeus’ ire quite so brazenly, killing such a close ally of his. 

“Think of it, our Lord of Hellfire has always coveted Asmodeus’ throne--”

“Nearly every archdevil does, Quagrem, except perhaps Zariel with her obsession for battle. Or do I need to remind you what became of Levistus?”

“Ah, but none was ever brave enough to say as much in Asmodeus’ face. Why then would he sit on that crown and its power for so long, without using it for his highest goal?”

“It was the work of a mere mortal, who tried and failed to be something more. Perhaps it was not powerful enough to take on the Lord Below, even on his brow.”

“Or perhaps, Duke Baalphegor convinced him not to use it. Perhaps she even used your same arguments. Everyone with sense knows that Baalphegor’s diplomacy was all that’s kept the Lord of Nessus from removing Mephistopheles--”

“Do you truly think Duke Baalphegor had a hand in taking the Crown?”

“Oh, don’t be absurd, Nexroth. She certainly did not sneak in the vault like a common thief, and may not even know who did, but think of it - she convinces him not to use a powerful artifact against Asmodei, he listens to her as he always does… and when the Crown goes missing, he’s lost the chance to ever use it. To her great credit, Baalphegor balanced her role as Mephistopheles’ consort and close ally of Asmodeus for millennia, but even she couldn’t keep it going forever.”

“And you believe the Crown incident is what upset that balance?”

“Can you think of anything else that might have?”

A pause, a hum. “... Perhaps there is truth to your words. But if that is so, the Lord of the Eighth is in a more precarious position than ever before. As you said, without Baalphegor here, Asmodeus’ tolerance may run thin.”

“Indeed it might,” was the reply, and that had been the end of the conversation, because neither was foolish enough to push it further, to even voice thoughts of a possible demise of Mephistopheles. Neither of them had paid the slightest attention to Dalah, and why should they? She was one of hundreds of thousands debtors doing menial tasks in the citadel, the vast majority of them uttering to themselves whatever gibberish crossed their broken minds. No one’s sanity lasted long, with few exceptions. 

Namely, Baalphegor’s personal attendants, all of them mortals who had been tricked or terrified into bearing children for her consort. As far as masters went, she was not unkind as long as instructions were followed… and she had extended some sort of protection over them, for none of them had lost their mind as other debtors eventually did. Not out of charity, clearly - it paid to have eyes and ears everywhere, those of debtors no one paid attention to - but Dalah cared little for her reasons as long as it kept her mind intact. 

Except that now, suddenly, she could think of nothing but her reasons. 

Saving Raphael, or at least part of him, had been a clear move against Mephistopheles - but to what end she couldn't begin to imagine. What game was she playing? Was it even just her game, or was it Asmodeus’? What role was Raphael supposed to play? What role could he play now that he was split into two beings, one enslaved and one a mere mortal?

Is he to be yet another lanceboard piece to sacrifice? Did I only delay his demise?

Not knowing ate at her, but one thing was clear: she may be on shaky ground but, very suddenly, even Mephistopheles’ position in the Hells didn’t seem all that secure anymore.

***

As it turned out, stepping on insects was making Raphael feel a great deal better indeed.

That was not something he planned on admitting to the spawn, of course. Not that he could have even if he wanted to, as players were not allowed to speak to anybody other than their opponents and the judges.

That, and Astarion was currently busy: it seemed that betting all the gold he had on him was not enough, and he had started his own little gambling ring. He was collecting small bets for each round from spectators whose chosen winner had clearly already lost, but who still had gold left to lose. 

And lose it they would, unless they did the clever thing and bet on him. 

Raphael smiled and leaned back on his chair, looking at the other five players in his group as they put down their cards. The only truly decent player, a half-orc with a sound strategic mind, had the highest strength flight by far; a quick calculation told her that Raphael could not possibly have a stronger one. Raphael allowed her a handful of seconds to celebrate her victory before putting down his own cards. The weakest flights by far, and yet…

“Unfortunately, my friend, I must claim this round.”

“What! Your flight is nowhere near--” she began, only to trail off when she properly paused to look at the cards.

Raphael smiled. “I have the Druid. The lowest strength flight wins,” he said, and smiled again - admittedly, only a touch smug - before leaning back to let the judge look over all flights and declare his victory, letting him pass the turn to the next game.

The announcement was not particularly well-received by the half-orc, who made her displeasure known by grabbing the judge and flinging him against a table where another game had just concluded. An impressive throw, considering that the judge was roughly the size of a particularly burly gnoll. 

A brief bout of chaos unfolded, several of the judges banding together to throw out the sore loser. Raphael ducked under a thrown stool, took a moment to drink a mouthful of wine, and looked over to his left. Astarion was distributing wins and pocketing his fees, but he paused a moment to look back and grin.

Raphael didn’t quite smile back, but the corners of his mouth curled up just a fraction, and he raised the goblet in a silent toast. Another sip of wine, and he looked around again. 

Several hours and many games in, the pool of players had significantly been narrowed down. They were now down to twelve tables and, in the last rounds, only one player would advance from each; two more games, then, and that entire travesty would be over with. Until then, he supposed he had no choice but to keep winning. 

Not the worst task in the world, he had to admit. Compared to the dismal experiences he’d had in the past half a year, this was almost… acceptable. 

As some semblance of order returned and the winners from their respective games were seated in groups of six, Raphael briefly considered losing on purpose right at the grand finale. Watching the spawn trying to explain to the rest of their companions where most of their gold went would be amusing, he had to admit… but they did need that gold to open up a portal to the Hells, so losing it would be too great an inconvenience to be worth it.

Perhaps the vampling’s little plan hadn’t been all that foolish after all. That, too, was something Raphael would definitely not admit aloud. 

He turned his attention back to the game instead, and went ahead to stomp on a few more insects on his way to his first victory in a long time. A laughably small victory, in the greater scale of things, but a victory nonetheless. 

May it be the first of many, he thought, and emptied his fourth goblet of wine just as finished his winning hand.

***

“I still maintain you should have told us what you were planning--”

“Thirty thousand gold.”

“That’s not the point I’m trying to--”

“Sorry, love. I can’t hear your point over the jingling of thirty thousand gold.” Half drunk on the bottle of blood he was drinking from, Astarion sat more comfortably on the tree branch he was perched on along with Wyll. He turned to Raphael, who was precariously sitting on another branch, and grinned, lifting the bottle. “Sharee!”

“... What?”

“Isn’t it Infernal for ‘cheers’?”

“It means turnip.”

“Ah. Well-- cheers for the Three-Dragon Ante champion of Sunridge, who just made us rich. We’ll very much enjoy carrying this money to Baldur’s Gate, where we’ll promptly spend it all to go, literally, to Hell.”

As Astarion set to work to empty the bottle, Durge shifted a little on the fork in the tree trunk they were sitting on, with Halsin in his cat shape sitting across their shoulders. They glanced over at Raphael. “... Congratulations are in order, I suppose.”

A shrug. “It was a childishly simple endeavor. Bragging would be poor form on my part.”

“He said, bragging,” Wyll muttered, but he seemed amused and even Raphael’s scoff sounded almost like a barely held-back chuckle. Durge suspected he’d had more than a couple of goblets of wine during the game, but said nothing of it and let their gaze wander back to the ground below, where they had set up two tents and started a fire, as visible as a beacon into the night. 

If anyone had set out after them with the intent of robbing them of the winnings - more a certainty than a probability, to be quite honest - they couldn’t miss it. What they would hopefully miss was the fact that the several barrels near the tents contained smokepowder.

“... Well. How much longer are we supposed to wait?” Raphael asked, and Durge shrugged, holding back a yawn. Sharing a tent with Halsin was rarely conducive to a sound, long rest. 

“I’d give it another hour at most,” they said, and they were not too far off: in the end, it took only about forty minutes before Halsin, still perched on Durge’s shoulder, hissed. They looked down to see shadows creeping at the edges of the small camp, a group of at least ten people. One dragonborn, from what Durge could tell, and a couple of dwarves, along with what was probably an half-orc and others who may have been human or elves - hard to tell. 

In the flickering light of the campfire, they watched them split in two groups, each surrounding a tent; weapons were brought up, swords and axes, and they fell on each tent, the silence of night broken by cries and hollers as they proceeded to hack at the tents and… well, at the people they assumed to be inside. 

“Not precisely professionals, these ones,” Wyll murmured. “Who wants to do the honors?”

“Oh,” Astarion whispered back, the grin almost audible in his voice. “I bet the devil wants to have a go. Don’t you, Raphael?”

“I’m surprised, spawn. I thought you’d be eager to end them yourself.”

“I’m just generous like that,” Astarion replied, his voice making clear he was also a little tipsy. Wyll reached to grab him by the shoulder, just to make sure he wouldn’t fall off the tree while he gestured widely at the scene below them. “Go on, old man. This shot’s all yours.”

“It will be my pleasure,” was the response, just as someone below spoke up.

“Wait a minute, there is no one he--”

“Ignis!” 

The firebolt shot through the air, a streak of bright light in the dark. For a moment it illuminated the faces of the bandits below - one of them saw them, a dragonborn with blood-red scales, but it was too late to do anything - and then the barrels of smokepowder blew up in a deafening explosion that covered any screams, and left their would-be killers no hope for survival. Bit of a shame to lose two tents like that but, Durge figured, better those than their skins.

The shockwave of the explosion was powerful enough to make Astarion entirely lose his balance, but Wyll caught his leg on time and he just dangled for a few moments upside down, laughing at the carnage below. He glanced up with a grin, the flames beneath turning his hair into a bright halo.

“Admit it, devil,” he said, holding up the hand that wasn’t clutching the now empty bottle. “You had fun today.”

Raphael scoffed, of course; he seemed to spend half his time doing that lately, so it wasn’t surprising. What did surprise Durge was the fact he actually leaned over to grab Astarion’s hand and help him back up on the tree while Halsin dismissed his wildshape and cast an ice storm at the fire below, to keep it from spreading to the forest. That particular task covered, Durge’s attention stayed on Astarion and Raphael.

“I suppose that your antics do provide a sort of childish entertainment,” Raphael was muttering. “For those who care for it.”

“Sounds to me like you care for it.”

“Sounds to me like you’re drunk.”

“Sounds to me like you both had enough to drink,” Wyll laughed, only to recoil when both turned on him as one. 

“Look who’s talking!”

“That’s a bold stand from someone who guzzles wine like water at all times of the day.”

“Hey, that’s not--”

“Amazed the Blade still recalls what end of the blade he’s supposed to hold, really.”

“Granted, your passable taste in wine makes it marginally more tolerable--”

“I only sample a little wine every once in a--”

“Oh, that’s sampling now? If I sampled necks the way you sample wine, I’d be leaving a trail of dead bodies in my wake.”

“I-- well--” Wyll groaned, clearly realizing he’d bitten off more than he cared to chew at the moment. “Oh gods, I did not sign up for this. Can you two go back to hating each other’s guts?”

“We still absolutely do,” Raphael pointed out, and Astarion grinned. 

“The feeling is mutual,” he declared, and patted Raphael's shoulder hard enough to make him fall off the branch with a cry. Later he’d deny doing it on purpose, but as Durge nearly fell themself to cast Feather Fall and spare Raphael a very painful landing on icy ground, Astarion looked at them with a lopsided smile. 

“You know, love,” he said, “I still think he likes us.”

***

[Back to Chapter 7]

[Back to Start]

[mongrelmutt]

Continuing the Jules Verne kick with "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea"

Under a cut because this is longer than the others:

- This is my least favorite of his books so far. I am falling asleep while reading it.

- The professor calling Conseil his "boy" when Conseil is 30 years old, and only 10 years younger than him  😬😬😬

- *Hisses at Captain Nemo* Bad Vibes

- I'm pretty sure physics doesn't work like this, but I don't know enough to argue. Nor do I care enough to look it up. I am just so bored. Please get to more interesting things. 

- Also, lol of course the Victorian dudes would be like "WHALE BODIES MUST BE STRONG AND IMMOVEABLE LIKE MANLY IRON TO DIVE SO DEEP AND NOT BE KILLED!" Wrong! they squish and adjust their innards to adapt to the pressure: 

- Trying to suss out what (if any) real sea life is being described when no name is given, just fantastic descriptions.

- Sleeping underwater in scuba gear seems... unwise.

- More 19th century anthropology 😬😬😬

- Yes, yes I understand that the water temperature is invariably 4⁰ wherever and whatever time of the year at depth. You've said that like 8 times already. This had better turn out to be relevant. [Note: not particularly]

- I do not like Ned Lands.

- Shark slander 😭

((Why did the myth that sharks have to turn over to bite things last so long? I remember it from "James and the Giant Peach" as well. I would have thought enough people would have at least seen sharks biting bait at the surface by the 1800s for this to be known false?))

- Man, these guys are a bloodthirsty lot. Every new animal they see they're like "Can I kill it?? Please let me kill it! Let's kill it! 😈 Man, wouldn't you jump at the chance to kill sharks like you do bears and lions??" :/

- At the same time they're afraid of everything, assume it's dangerous, and, if not killed instantly, will retaliate violently in revenge, including a freaking *dugong.*

- Wow, some people at least knew industrial commercial whaling was unsustainable and would result in the whales' extinction even in the late 1800s! Wild that it took almost 100 years to get it (mostly) banned!

- *head desk* Nemo is such a hypocrite (I imagine that may be The Point)

- Ugggghhh the whole "predators are evil, vicious monsters, and we need to slaughter them all without mercy to protect the poor innocent prey animals" attitude still so prevalent today.

- ...wait, those are *sperm whales*?? I thought they meant killer whales at first! Sperm whales  don't even eat baleen whales... All that brutal slaughter for nothing :'( 

- ... Bonus for an even more uncomfortable use of "voluptuous" than Bram Stoker! Seal eyes are described as "voluptuous" 😆

- Of all the sea creatures to declare harmless Verne chose *elephant seals* 🤦🤣

- YAY THE KRAKEN!! At least these covers haven't lied to me!! :D 

- aaaw no, the giant squid didn't play nearly as big a part as advertised *le sigh*

- Ah, the classic "crap I've written my characters into a deadly corner, time to knock out the POV character and have them wake up safe in bed later." 

- Why did the Professor talk about Lands like he was dead at the beginning? I can see a few reasons from the author's perspective (varying from "deliberate red herring to increase the suspense" to "oops I forgot dude was originally going to die and didn't correct it") but not from the character's? It's not even like he was reflecting on the matter from decades later, when Ned might have died after the story, they're all still chilling together in Norway waiting for a steamer home?

Lands: Stop telling people I died.

Professor Aronnax: Sometimes I can still hear his voice.

- Welp, I did enjoy the sea critters and fun steampunk machines, just not the long rambling bits that seemed to overwhelm the story for me

[quietlywatchingwritingreading]

@carsgeek24 @robocatfan

Day 31: Costume

The costume event was well underway, and most of the hunters had taken to it as soon as they heard. It took Kario nearly three minutes to decide he’d want to go as a vampire, and about 3 weeks to gather up the materials for his costume.

Weeks of careful carving, trying to mimic the master’s movements as they crafted armor.

It wasn’t perfect, but he could have pride in it. Unlike, some of the other hunters’s costumes.

“Quack.”

“….is that really the best you could do Bell?”

“Yes. I uh. I ran out of materials. ..”

“A gargwa costume. “ he scoffed. “… I suppose it does fit you, in some way or another. “

“Was that a insult.” Casey growled. Her Goss Harag costume was certainly more realistic. A little too realistic for her own good. Far to many hunters had instinctively pulled out a kuni, before realizing it was just one of their own in costume.

There was a flame under the eyes of her mask.

“No-no! If I where to guess, I would have thought that  Bell would have taken a more, elaborate costume. Perhaps a Nargacuga or a Royal Princess.”

“If I did that i’d end up in jail!” Bell scoffed. “Besides, Artie needed some materi-oh. oh never mind!”

“oh? You’re costume is like that because you gave up some materials?”

“….Maybe. Derick also needed a few, for his costume.” she said, pointing over to the man.

“that’s not a costume.”

“He’s a dragonator.”

“that’s just 15 paper cones stuck to a person.”

“Last year he went as a beastly figure, and got stuck to the tree.”

“pfft, yeah. I forgot about that! Yeah I can’t blame him for wanting to avoid that this year. “

“ah uh-Hi guys!” art greeted, waving a hand. His outfit was certainly more elaborate then the others. A prince of sorts: but dressed in the sort of outfit he’d honestly expect a prince of the kingdom to wear. Durable clothing, adorned with countless small pieces of metal jewelry. Fine feathers, furs, and scales lined most of the outfit. Each carefully chosen and woven almost seamlessly to each other.

A lot of metal jewelry.

He was certain it wasn’t all costume apparel. “….I think i see what happened.”

“Do you like it? A costume like this, you need to go all out.” Artie said. he was blushing.

“you look lovely, my prince!”

“As a vampire, shouldn’t you be trying to kidnap him?” Bell joked.

“Maybe I’m the one who turned you into a goose. “

[vendettaparker]

Reckless [T.H]

Summary: In a fit of jealousy, Tom embarrasses you in front of your new friend and the entire pub, leaving you heartbroken at his reckless actions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slut-shaming 

a/n: hi! sorry this took so so so long for me to get out! i got super busy with other works, but i’m super happy with how this turned out :) i hope you enjoy this, and don’t worry, i know how scary those warnings look ^ but this ends happy, i promise! as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom was an idiot. He was an actual fucking idiot. He now realizes that as he watches you run out of the pub with hot tears streaming down your face. He watches as Harry runs after you, your bag in his hand, probably to make sure you make it back home safe since there was no way you’d return to the crowded bar, where Harrison and Sam were giving Tom death glares, the same little pub where Tom had made a complete fool out of you. 

The few months Tom came home to London were always the setting of your most cherished memories. Sometimes it seemed like when he left so did the whole group of friends you surround yourself with.

There was no doubt in your mind that Tom was the life of the party. He had a certain aura about him that caused some of the most fucked up, but amazing situations to occur. That was probably one of the reasons you loved him so much. 

When he was in town, his brothers, Harrison, and Tuwaine all joined together to make the next few months memorable before he had to leave again, and you were always included, but when he was gone, Harry usually went with him, Harrison focused on work for himself, and Sam focused on his restaurant. The world slowed down after Tom left, and so many times, you were left to wait for his return; alone. 

Tom hated leaving you behind every time he went back to the states, but you had such deep roots in London, he didn’t want to pry you from your family for months on end. He loved you too much to constantly subject you to his hectic lifestyle. He spent as much time with you as he could when he saw you, but the second he had to go, it was all tearful goodbyes in a crowded airport. 

You and Tom had been best friends for decades at this point. You supported him no matter what it was that he wanted to accomplish. He’s even said in interviews that he credits a huge bulk of his success to his friend back home, then he’d give a wink to the camera, and you always knew it was for you. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Tom came home after filming Spider-Man: No Way Home, you practically tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“You div,” You mumbled into his neck, “you forgot to let me FaceTime with Zendaya.” 

“Oh, shit!” Tom gasped, finally remembering your request to talk to your favorite actress, “my bad.”

You looked at Tom incredulously, “I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You feigned hurt, clutching your hand to your chest, “it just hurts too much.” 

“That’s a damn shame,” Tom frowned, “I mean, I could just FaceTime Zendaya now, but if that’s how you—”

“I changed my mind,” You smiled sweetly, cutting him off, “love you, bestie.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled you into another hug, “Missed you, bestie.” 

“Um,” Sam, Paddy, and Harrison stood behind you, clearing their throats. 

“Missed you guys too,” Tom sighed, and he rushed over and gave his brothers and friend a hug.

You gave Harry a hug while Tom chatted with his brothers, quickly catching up with him. 

“What’s the plan for tonight, guys?” You spoke up. 

Every night after Tom got back, he’d go back to his flat and take a nap before a night out on the town. Usually, you’d bar hop a bit before going to a club, so tonight wasn’t likely to be any different. 

“I was thinking we could get dinner at Lorenzo’s,” Harry said, “then maybe hit the pub on Ashford?”

You and the others nodded in agreement as you made your way out of the airport.

“Can I invite my friend Avery?” You asked. 

Tom nodded, “Sure, I didn’t even know you had any other friends, (Y/N),” he joked.

“Haha,” You laughed sarcastically, “gee that was a good one, Tom. You really got me.” 

“What can I say?” He smirked, “I’m a comedian.” 

“Is that the guy you met in your philosophy lecture?” Harrison butt in.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “he’s really sweet, so be on your best behavior guys, and maybe don’t be yourselves, just this once?” you suggested with a slightly teasing tone. 

“Are you trying to impress him or something?” Tom inquired.

“No,” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to not throw him to the wolves.” 

Tom laughed along, but it was strained. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of adding a new member to your friend group, and the little glint in your eye when you talked about Avery made his heart tighten. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” You smiled as you set the last of Tom’s luggage in his living room, “I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

You gave him one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, “see you later.” 

Tom reciprocated and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender in your locks of hair, “mhm,” he sighed, “see ya.” 

Harrison was about to walk out after you when Tom grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, “Mate, what the fuck.” he grumbled as he stumbled over his feet, “I thought you wanted to take a nap?”

“I slept on the plane,” Tom explained quickly, “you’ve been here the whole time, right?” Harrison nodded, “so you know this Avery guy, yeah?”

Harrison shook his head, “I haven’t talked to (Y/N) much this past month, but he’s probably on her Instagram.” 

Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at posts you’d been tagged in, “Ah, here.” He handed the phone to Tom and pointed to the tall blonde guy in a group photo with you and some other friends, “He’s the tall blonde.” 

Tom studied the picture with a small frown, “They’re not dating though, right?”

“She said he was her friend,” Harrison shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” Tom rolled his eyes, “do they look really chummy to you?”

“His hand’s kind of close to her butt, but other than that I don’t know.” Harrison pointed it out, causing Tom’s heart to momentarily stop. 

“Ok, new plan,” Tom announced, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight.” 

Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What?” Tom wondered.

“You’ve said that almost every single time you’ve been home and you always chicken out.”

“No, I don’t!” Tom gasped in offense, “It’s just hard to find the right time.”

“You’ve literally had hundreds of opportunities to tell her how you feel, Mate.”

“It has to be perfect.” Tom insisted, “I can’t just ask her out of the blue, I have to butter her up first.”

“That’s dumb.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom groaned, “get out, I changed my mind, I’m going to sleep.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes and chuckled before giving Tom a pat on the back and leaving. Tom waved goodbye as Harrison drove away, and then rushed to his phone. 

“FaceTime Zendaya,” he instructed Siri. The call went through and soon Tom was met with Zendaya's tired eyes in a dark room. 

“Hey, Z!” Tom said cheerfully, “best friend, bestest pal in the world. The person that never wants to see me fail ever, my greatest companion—“

“Tom,” Zendaya groggily cut him off, “what the fuck do you want, I’m sleeping.” 

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Zendaya sat up a little more and turned on her bedside lamp, “What? You don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“Well I do,” Tom backtracked, “but I want it to be special. I’ve been in love with this girl for nearly two years now and every time I go to ask her out, I chicken out.”

“I don’t know, what does she like?”

“Well one time she told me her favorite animal was a sea otter, should I get her one?” Tom pondered, hand resting in his chin in thought. 

“Um, no, what the fuck?” Zendaya squinted her eyes at Tom, “have you gotten any sleep yet?” 

Tom shook his head, “This is important, Z, now help me!” 

Zendaya rolled her eyes, “I’ll text you some ideas, but for now just go get some sleep. With how tired you are now you’d probably call her the wrong name or something.” 

Tom rolled his eyes, but the action caused his eyelids to droop even more, “Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll let you know how it goes.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” Tom announced at the restaurant before you arrived, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight so I need you all to shut up and not distract me or make me nervous.”

Harrison, Harry, and Sam just stared at Tom. Tuwaine, for some unknown reason, started clapping. 

“Tom,” Harrison began, “no offense, but—“

“Ah ah ah,” Tom stopped him, “is what you’re about to say going to bruise my ego?” Harrison thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “okay, then shut the fuck up, respectfully. I don’t need any bad juju tonight.” 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mate,” Tuwaine nodded. He was the closest to you after Tom and he knew all about your crush on the brown-haired Brit. You might’ve let it slip once when you were drunk, and since you didn’t willingly tell Tuwaine, he was sworn to secrecy. “I’m positive she’ll say yes.” 

“Thank you,” Tom smiled at him, sending a slight glare to the others for their lack of faith in him. “As for the rest of you, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.” 

You walked into the restaurant with Avery hunched over from laughing so hard. Tom smiled in your direction and waved you over, “Hey, (Y/N/N)! Over here!”

“Wow,” You chuckled, “must’ve been a good nap. Little energetic there, huh?” 

Tom went in to give you a tight hug, holding you close, “Just missed you,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“I just saw you a few hours ago?”

Avery stood by you awkwardly, waiting for Tom to release you. Tom reluctantly let you go and pulled a chair out for you, next to him. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, motioning for Avery to sit next to you, “hey, everyone,” you smiled at the group of boys that were properly about to piss themselves at Tom’s over-the-top behavior, “this is Avery.” 

“Hi,” He waved at the group as a small chorus of ‘hellos’ rang across the table. He turned to Tom to shake his hand, “I’m a big fan, Mate. Love your work.” 

Tom smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, it means a lot.” smiled politely, shaking Avery's hand. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner went off without a hitch, at least in your opinion. Avery was melding well with your friends and he was cracking jokes like he’d know the group for years. 

The boys seemed to enjoy his sense of humor and what he added to the conversation. Sam and him even found that they shared an interest in cooking, which led to them having a slightly heated discussion about how real Gordon Ramsey’s cooking skills are; which ended in laughs. 

However, Tom was probably having one of the worst nights of his life. Every time Avery playfully shoved you while you two laughed he wanted to wring his neck. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t find the perfect time to ask you out. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask you out with all of his mates around. 

Tom smiled and laughed along with the jokes, but once you looked away he was back to frowning. 

“Tom,” Harry nudged his brother, “wipe that scowl off your face.” 

“I’m not scowling,” Tom grumbled, “this is my normal face.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his older brother under the table, “You need to ask her soon. I think Avery is trying to make some moves on her.” Harry noticed, seeing how Avery casually had his arm around your chair. 

Tom rolled his eyes, “As if I can't see that for myself,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to ask her with all of you watching. What if she says no?” 

“We can leave you alone for a bit when we go to the pub, but I’m not sure if Avery will go with us.” Harry shrugged, “you could always ask her out tomorrow.” Harry suggested. 

“No!” Tom exclaimed, causing everyone to look at him and Harry, “Sorry, I—um, I just don’t really like that shirt on you Harry; it makes my eyes hurt.” 

Harry looked down at his shirt for a moment and then frowned, sending a light smack to Tom, “You bought me this shirt you div.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations so Tom leaned in to talk to Harry some more, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. What if I chicken out again?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” Harry deadpanned with a shrug. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The pub was way more packed than anyone expected. The new addition of live music to the outside patio definitely livened up the place and more customers went to see what local band would be playing next. 

The pub had a classic English pub feel, with the wood flooring and the yellow-tinted walls, but it also had a modern twist with a back patio and outdoor seating with fairy lights, and the lights that illuminate under the bar itself. 

“I’m gonna go check out the band,” Harry announced after he came back with your drinks, “you guys should all come with me.” He said with a slight side-eye to Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison. 

“Eh, I’m not really into—” Sam began, but Harry sent him a quick kick under the table. “Ow! I mean, I love music.” Sam smiled enthusiastically. 

“I’m gonna stay back and finish this beer,” Tom said, holding up the large pint of beer he was already a quarter of the way through, “(Y/N), wanna race to see who can finish first?” He suggested trying to get you to stay behind.

“Oh you’re totally on,” You smirked, “but I am going to take a quick peek at the band. We can race after I get back.” You got up from your seat and began walking away with Harry and the boys. Tom pouted at how horribly that plan worked. Harry looked back at Tom apologetically as he held the door open for you.

“Wow,” Avery smiled beside Tom, scaring him, “she really is something.” 

“Holy shit, Mate,” Tom held a hand to his heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you went with them?” 

“Nah,” Avery shook his head, “I’m not really into music,” he shrugged. 

“Oh, okay,” Tom nodded. “What were you just saying?”

“(Y/N),” Avery looked towards the back patio exit dreamily, “she’s amazing. I mean I would definitely ask her out, but probably not at a pub surrounded by her mates, y’know?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” Tom said quietly, his heart already beginning to shatter into millions of inconsolable pieces. “I mean, she’s alright.” He said with a forced laugh, trying to fend Avery away from you, “she definitely isn’t really your type, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Avery asked, taking a sip from his beer, “she’s perfect, mate.”

“I mean,” Tom racked his brain for an excuse big enough to make Avery not want you, “you don’t think it’s a little weird she’s in a friend group with all boys?” 

“No,” Avery said slowly, skeptically looking back at the exit, “she just clicks with boys, I guess. Girls and guys can just be friends.”

“Not her,” Tom scoffed, “I mean, it’s just a little obvious, y’know?”

You and the rest of the boys were heading back in, seeing as the back patio was completely overcrowded with patrons. 

“What’s obvious?” Avery asked, raising his voice slightly due to the volume in the bar. 

“(Y/N)’s only friends are guys!” Tom nearly yelled over the volume of chatter, not realizing that the surrounding customers could hear him, “makes me wonder how many she’s slept with! I mean, that’s not a coincidence to me!” 

The surrounding customers halted their conversations, leaving only Tom’s voice filtering through the air and into your ears. 

“That’s crazy,” Avery chuckled awkwardly, “I don’t think she’s like that.” He shook his head, annoying Tom. In a final last-ditch effort to get Avery off your back, he said the worst thing he could, loudly, into a quieting pub. 

“Well, she hits on me all the time,” Tom shrugged, “she’s just a bit whorish, I guess.” 

“Tom,” Tuwaine cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation, “what the fuck, mate?” 

Tom looked at all the boys next to Tuwaine, and behind them was you, teary-eyed with harsh sobs racking through your body. 

You whispered something to Harry, and then all but ran out the front door. Harry walked over to where Tom was sitting and picked up your purse.

“Harry I—” Tom tried.

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Harry snapped, “You're an idiot and an asshole, just leave things be.” 

Harry ran out the pub entrance, following you to give you a ride home. 

Tuwaine, Sam, and Harrison shook their heads once the shock ebbed away. One by one they all left Tom sitting in shock and agony at the bar. Avery, not knowing any of the group, barely knew what was going on or if Tom’s accusations were correct, left the pub and went home without another word. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Harry,” Tom whined into the phone, “please tell me how to fix this, please I’m begging you.” 

Harry sighed, now properly regretting lifting his silent treatment from Tom, “Tom, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you, and even if there was, I wouldn’t. You called her a whore in front of a crowded pub—”

“I know!” Tom yelled, “And I’ve been living with that guilt for three weeks now! Please, Harry. I-I messed up so bad.” Tom’s voice cracked, “I tried calling and texting, a-and my texts started turning green. She blocked me,” Tom sobbed, “I’m in love with her, and I never got to tell her. I ruined our relationship before it even began.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “you did.” 

“Harry, I just want to apologize properly, please.” Tom begged, “I tried going to her house, but her roommate threw a drink at me and told me she went out of town. Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Harry,” Tom sighed, “I’m trying so hard here, I don’t care where she is, I’ll go anywhere for her. Please, I just can’t keep waiting in the dark for her to talk to me.”

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, fine, but don’t tell her I told you where she was. And if you get your face clawed off, just know that you deserve it.” 

“Okay, okay, now tell me.”

“She’s been staying with Tuwaine and his girlfriend.” 

“Okay, thanks, love you, bye!” Tom said through the phone, already grabbing his keys. 

Harry sighed and began texting Tuwaine, 

Harry: Tom’s coming over, don’t snap him in half, he just wants to talk to her. 

Tuwaine: I’m not home right now, but I'd be more worried about her snapping him in half… 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom pulled up the Tuwaine’s flat and pounded at the door. He didn’t see Tuwaine’s car in the driveway but he saw yours parked on the street so he knew you were in there. 

“(Y/N)!” He desperately called, “Come on, I know you’re in there!”, his pleas were met with silence and he rang the doorbell on repeat, “(Y/N), please! I just want to talk!”

The door opened to show you standing there with your messy hair and stained sweats, still looking overwhelmingly perfect in Tom’s eyes. He noticed the dark circles and the dried tears and his heart broke, even more, knowing he caused this. He loved you so much and he caused you some of the worst pain imaginable. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss your puffy cheeks, desperately whispering praises into your ear. You were perfect in every sense of the word, and he let you believe you were anything less. He was an idiot—the biggest idiot in the world—for making you cry. 

“What do you want?” You snapped with a sniffle, pulling him back to reality as you rubbed your red eyes. 

“I just want to talk,” Tom gave you a small smile, “please.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” You scowled, “You need to leave.” 

“No, (Y/N), please.” Tom begged, “I’m sorry. I’m so so so fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and—please, (Y/N), you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna lose you.” Tom’s voice cracked, but you remained stoic in the doorway. 

“I’m your best friend? Really?” You scoffed, “I thought I was just some whore you let hang around you?” 

Tom winced at his words being thrown back into his face, “I didn’t mean it, I swear,” he promised, tears glistening in his eyes, “I don’t even know why I said that. I was being so fucking stupid—” 

“No,” You interrupted his rambling, “you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that it was just you “being stupid”. Who the hell says that about their supposed best friend? Why would you even think that? You don’t just get to call me those things in public, and then say that you don’t know why you did it. You can’t even give me a reason—”

“I’m in love with you,” Tom blurted out, blowing out a puff of air in stress, “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). And Avery was saying how he wanted to ask you out, and I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I had so many plans for us, and I wanted to be with you—to be yours—more than anything, and I let my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry because if I deserved you I wouldn’t have done that.”

You stood in the doorway of the flat, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless.” You said after a moment of silence, “I would’ve been yours if you had just asked me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tom cried, reaching out to hold your hand, but you backed away ever so slightly, “please, I would do anything to fix it if I could.” 

“You don’t understand anything, Tom.” You frowned.

“Help me understand.” He begged.

You pondered it for a moment and then released a sigh, coupled with a few tears, “I loved you,” you admitted. Tom’s heart did a leap, but then he realized that you were talking past tense as if his chance with you was gone.

“And I would spend months and months just waiting for you to come home so I could spend time with you. I was so lonely when you and Harry left; I always am. Avery offered to spend some time with me after class one day and I agreed because I don’t have anybody else when you leave. And it was fun, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never compare to the place you had in my heart, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.” You sighed and began closing the door again, “Now, because of you, I have no one again.” 

The door was about to slam back in Tom’s face, but he shoved his foot in the threshold, “(Y/N), wait,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how important Avery was to you. I can never undo what I did, but please let me make it up to you. I just need you to understand how sorry I am.” 

You opened the door again and looked at Tom’s sad eyes, boring into you, “I do understand how sorry you are, but I don’t know how I can trust you again. You said awful things about me without even batting an eye or taking a breath—”

“I know,” Tom sighed, “I know and I’d give anything to take it back. I just want you back (Y/N). Even if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I can’t leave knowing I’ve lost my best friend.” 

“As much as it hurts,” You caved, moving from the doorway to let Tom in, “I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you either.” 

Tom smiled and walked into the flat, immediately pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” You hugged back and sniffled into his hoodie, before pulling away with a sigh.

“I know,” You nodded, “I forgive you. But next time, just be honest with me and tell me how you’re feeling. I’d give you the world if you asked for it.”

Tom smiled and stroked your tear-stained cheek, “I’ll just settle on your heart for now, if that’s okay?”

“That’s so fucking cheesy.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love it.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug  @waitimcomingtoo  @rosyparkers  @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx  @celestialholland  @hollandcrush  @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468  @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs

[cursestothemoon]

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach 

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural 

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability 

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser 

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry 

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened 

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught 

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth 

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident 

needless to say 

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm 

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean 

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such 

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very 

v e r y

protective of harry 

you'd do anything for the kid 

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO 

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt 🥺

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed 

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post 

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS 

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed 

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron 

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r 

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder 

again 

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him 

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body 

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth 

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius 

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad 

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man 

and lily potter did exist 

and there was a time where your family was complete 

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike 

not now 

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly 

you guys are back to square one 

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free 

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix 

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET 

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix 

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place 

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close 

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK 

SO 

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI 

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO 

youre a gazelle 

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius 

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens 

youre there

you see it 

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse 

youre not sure which 

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine 

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps 

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff 

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s 

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive 

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage 

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug 

keen on never letting go 

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother 

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

SO

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER 

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT 

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT 

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS 

REMUS 

THERE ALL THERE 

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR 

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR 

ok so hear me out 

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague 

but you just knew 

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry 

so did lily 

she was the first one to say something 

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down 

james right there with you 

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries 

and he couldn’t do anything about it 

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad 

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man 

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost 

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that 

but the mood was somber 

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen 

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end. 

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further 

harry has to do this alone 

its quite symbolic actually 

the one time you'd let go of the reigns 

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother 

he’d die 

but you had to do it 

so everything goes as planned 

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king 

and the war ends 

when you got back home from the war 

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you 

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry 

any and everything you can get your hands on 

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had 

and your father’s unruly mop of curls 

the same wave pattern in your dark hair 

everything finally felt right 

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

[dollslayer]

By Its Cover

Dark!Librarian!Steve Rogers x Shy!Reader, College AU

Summary: Your late nights at the university library spark a chain of events. Will they lead to your undoing? To anyone else's?

W/C: 8,890 (oops, sorry)

Warnings: DARK themes, NO MINORS, stalking, murder, minor character death, smut, angst, unprotected sex, oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

A/N: FINALLY, I wrote this for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's 2 Years of Darkness challenge! This fic kicked my ass but after some months I'm so excited about it! This is my first truly dark fic so please don't read if any of these topics upset you but I do want to make a note that the sex is consensual. If I missed any warnings please DM me immediately and I will add them. Reblog/comment if you liked it! Maybe even check out some of my other fics 👀 Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You stumbled slightly on the uneven pavement as you made the final steps towards the graduate school library. It was always so much quieter than the undergrad library and at this hour there’d be a good chance it was just you and the poor person stuck working the overnight help desk. You didn’t mind that though, you were never an overly sociable person and you preferred to work alone anyways.

You swiped your student ID through the sensor and the little green light granted you entry as you opened the door. Looking around there wasn’t even someone at the desk, just the sound of the always-on A/C rattling the leaves of the fake plants in the lobby.

You moved to put your ID away when it slipped from your fingers and plapped onto the floor, your own face staring back up to you from the plastic. You sighed and swung your bag further back over your shoulder as you bent to pick it up when a pair of legs edged their way into your vision. Caught off guard by the man attached to them, you watched him bend to pick up the piece of plastic.

You both straightened back up to your full heights and you found yourself looking up at him. He had clear blue eyes and sandy blond hair that was swept back. He looked like he could be a model, he was so handsome and you felt like a deer in headlights.

You realized that he had your ID in his hand and was waiting patiently for you to take it. You smiled awkwardly and took it from him. He looked back to your card and read your name out loud and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you” you said more in surprise than gratitude “Sorry, I just, I could’ve sworn no one was here you came out of nowhere” You laughed nervously, hoping to hide your embarrassment. You were never good with talking to people and once a situation got awkward you just got yourself deeper in it.

“I was just coming around the corner when I noticed you dropped your ID. I actually work the late shift at the desk. Serves me right for applying last minute for work through the university, right?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Late night cram session? You look like your back’s about to snap from holding all those books” He pointed to your bag, the stitches of it’s straps were frayed and had been sewn over a couple of times.

“Yeah, I like coming here late, hardly anyone’s here, I don’t have to deal with people and I can just focus” You explained

“Right, well, sorry to keep you. If you need anything I’m Steve, and I’ll be bored out of my mind at the desk” he smirked and walked back towards reception.

You turned down the hall and thought how strange it was that you’d never seen him here before. It was the middle of the semester so he couldn’t have just started but you were in here all the time and you’d never run into him once. You brushed the thought off and continued on your way.

____

Over the next few weeks you and Steve developed a routine. You’d come in around 10 or 11, you’d stop at the desk and chat a bit and then you’d head up to your spot on the second floor to study. Occasionally Steve would see you when he returned books and you’d joke around a bit before he’d leave you to your work. You were building a good rapport with each other and he was pleased.

Sometimes he’d been too shy to approach you. It made him feel like the scrawny, helpless kid he was before the growth spurt. Beautiful girls like you never looked twice at him but he knows that you’re different, he knows that if you had met him then that you’d never treat him like those girls did. He knows that in time you two could really have something special.

Steve understood that building a relationship with you would take time and balance. He didn’t want to seem too eager but ever since he saw you he knew he’d do anything to just talk to you.

It started some months ago when he was visiting Bucky on campus. They had been hanging out in the quad right by a group of buildings when you tripped on the pavement and your books fell at his feet. He helped you up and even collected your books for you but you were too flustered and embarrassed to meet his eye. You eked out a thank you and scurried into the graduate library.

That moment sparked a blooming obsession within him. The following night he was still in town but he went out without Bucky and staked out where he’d been the previous night and watched you go to the library at the same time you had. The next two nights he did this and quickly pieced together your nightly routine.

Within a month's time he was set to transfer for the next semester and when he did he got a job working night shifts at the library. Bucky had asked him why on Earth he’d want that and Steve had shrugged him off, claiming that he wanted to be paid and didn’t want to deal with anyone. Seemed like a good enough reason to anyone else.

And so that’s how Steve found himself invading your personal space to hand you your ID. He enjoyed the way you trembled slightly in surprise. You looked so small next to him, looking up at him. He nearly forgot what he was going to say, feeling suddenly shy himself. You were so close to him and you were just as beautiful as he remembered.

Take it slow, he reminded himself.

____

Your apartment door slammed behind you as you stormed out of the building. You left in only what you were wearing which was a light hoodie and some leggings. You had thought to grab your book bag before you left and it kept knocking into your side with each angry step you took. Tears streaked your face but you tried your best to brush them off and continued on your brisk walk to the library.

You and your boyfriend had gotten into a fight and things got heated pretty fast, they always did with Sean. You had confronted Sean about being gone so often and so late, you’d missed him and wanted to spend time with you. That’s when he started getting defensive and turning your late nights at the library right around on you.

Things escalated to shouting and Sean had gotten so angry that he’d knocked over a pile of your books from the table. It had scared you and that’s when you left. You knew that you’d be getting nowhere with him when he was so angry. You wanted to be alone and needed a distraction so you grabbed your bag and headed for the library.

You secretly hoped Steve was working, it’d be nice to see a friendly face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the tiniest crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and kind and he always knows when to give you space. You wish you’d met him at a different point in your life, you could really see yourself with him in another timeline. Maybe it was just easier to think that having just had a fight with Sean.

You swiped your card and waited patiently for the door to open. You could tell Steve had already spotted you and was looking at you as you passed through the glass doors. He was smiling his same boyish charm smile that made you feel even shier than you already were. You must’ve looked a mess but it was comforting to see him there waiting for you.

“There she is,” Steve said with a smile as he got up from his chair to greet you. His face immediately fell though as he took in the tracks of your tears and your puffy eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve looked upset and angry for you. You were touched, but you’d rather leave it.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s okay. It’s nice to see you though, Steve. How’s your night?”

Steve’s jaw ticked but he swallowed and nodded and you were grateful he didn’t push it further.

“Uneventful as usual, it’s good to see you too, doll.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the nickname. If you were on better terms with Sean you’d feel bad but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but giggle.

You said your goodbye to Steve and made your way to the second floor to study.

Hours passed and you had your nose buried in a book when you felt a sudden presence. You looked up slowly behind you and shrieked when you found Steve just inches from you. He held his hands out defensively and tried to catch your breathing.

“Steve, oh my God, I didn’t see you there, you scared me!” You laughed as you caught your breath.

“Yeah, sorry, I uh, have a habit of doing that.” He said as he ducked his head sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Was he blushing? Why did he look nervous?

“I, um. I was uh, I was hoping to maybe ah, ask you something, actually.” Steve swallowed thickly. He is nervous. You smiled at him and motioned for him to go on.

“I was thinking… maybe, when you’re free if um, would you maybe want to go to dinner? With me?” He stammered out.

You smiled and felt heat flood your cheeks all over again, Steve was gorgeous and you were flattered that someone like him would want to go out with you. Just as quickly as that flattery came dread had instantly replaced it. You had a boyfriend, you couldn’t do that to Sean. Oh God, now I have to turn him down. What if he hates me?

“Wow… I uh, Steve,” you started, “I’m. You’re so sweet, I don’t know what to say. But, I have a boyfriend, I’m really sorry”

“But- but don’t think I wouldn’t say yes, if I could. You’re such a nice guy and I’m really happy for our friendship. I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us, I’m. I’m sorry,” You quickly led up with. You felt so awkward and bad that you had to turn him down.

Steve’s jaw ticked and he looked away. A blush of embarrassment had made its way up his neck and into his cheeks. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a deep breath.

“It’s… It’s fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want things to be weird between us either. You know what? Why don’t we just forget the whole thing? Sorry again.” He finished with a tight lipped smile

You sent an uneasy smile back and nodded.

“Of course, no damage done, Steve.”

With that he left you and you went back to your book. You tried not to overthink the entire situation but couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable.

____

“Boyfriend” the word echoed in his head on a never ending loop with deafening reverb. He nodded curtly at you and smiled. You had your awkward exchange of apologies and excuses. Wordlessly, he made his way back to the information desk. He felt angry but also humiliated, he had spent at least a week building himself up to say something to you and you just turned him down so wholly?

He saw the way you looked at him, the way you laughed at his jokes. Steve knew that he meant more to you than you were letting on. There was attraction there, you were just in denial because you had a boyfriend.

Who even was this schmuck? You couldn’t have liked him that much because if you did then you would’ve mentioned him before but you hadn’t. If you really loved your boyfriend then you wouldn’t have smiled at Steve the way you did or stopped to say hello every night. He needed to see for himself whom exactly it was that was so undeserving of your attention.

Steve checked the cameras and saw that you were packing up your things. He had maybe a few minutes to gather his own things and wait for you. There was someone else coming to cover the library in 20 minutes, it would be fine if he left it alone until then. He decided to make himself scarce from the desk so you wouldn’t have to see him again before you left and you wouldn’t notice he’d be following you.

Waiting for the sound of the double doors to click shut he turned the corner and waited for just a minute. He slunk down the mainways of campus towards the student apartments and stopped just 20 yards away from you up against a wall. You looked so cold all alone in the dark as you buzzed in one of the numbers.

“1B, what the fuck could you possibly want at this hour?” a gruff voice answered over the comm.

“Baby, it’s me, sorry I forgot my keys but you weren’t responding to my texts so” You trailed off as you shivered in the night. No reply came, just the buzzer sounding off. You hurried inside and Steve tried his best to scope out external windows.

Finally the light came on in one of them and to his luck the blinds were mostly open. Through the vertical slats he could make out your entrance and an impeding figure from the hall. It was him, the boyfriend. The guy that was apparently so much better than Steve.

He saw your body language was tense and you opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word in, your boyfriend was grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you. You looked surprised maybe, but you just let him grab you like that. You just fucking let him.

He watched from his spot against a pillar from the building across the walkway. He clenched his jaw and tried to control his breathing watching this guy, this boy manhandle you like you weren’t something special, something precious. He was disgusted but he couldn’t look away as your clothes were shirked off and you two fucked right there on the couch.

He couldn’t bring himself to watch anymore and stormed off. As he walked back to his place a plan began to form in the back of his mind.

____

Things with Sean were smoothed over. You didn’t really talk, so much as he just fucked you before you could even talk about it. He had kissed you on the cheek after and said he was sorry. So you figured that he was. You didn’t really feel like pushing it anyways.

You made for the library once again, anticipating a long night ahead of you with midterms around the corner.

You let out a shriek as you realized someone was standing over you. Steve was hovering right above you, looking even taller than he already was. You pushed your chair back to get some distance between yourself and him while you caught your breath from the momentary scare.

“Steve, I uh, sorry I didn’t hear you coming, again.”

He leaned himself against the edge of the table and crossed his arms. How had you not realized he was so muscular before? You flushed and scolded yourself for thinking about him like that. You had a boyfriend and Steve was just the nice guy at the library.

He ducked his head shyly and waved your apology off.

“Sorry, guess I’m just sneaky.” He chuckled in amusement but the feeling wasn’t mutual, “I was just up here returning some books when I realized I missed you coming in, thought I’d come say hi.”

“Right,” you replied, “Guess we just missed each other. How’s the desk tonight?”

“Bored to tears as usual, just glad you’re here tonight”

Steve winked at you and you felt your cheeks get hot again and you looked away with a small laugh.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

“Ah that’s not true.” He paused, “I get nervous all the time around pretty girls like you”

You were really in it now. Your cheeks heated instantly and you had to look away from him again. For someone that just got rejected he doesn’t stay down for long. How the hell were you going to talk your way out of this one? He knows you have a boyfriend, why would he say that?

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” Oh, thank God.

He begins to walk back to his cart before spinning on his heel one last time.

“Hey, I forgot to ask. You’re pretty good with art history, right?”

You nod cautiously, afraid that you know where this is going.

“Well, as of right now I’ve got a C. I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet on one of my nights off here and help me out?”

“O-oh. Yeah, of course. No problem. I’m sure Sean wouldn’t mind.”

You were too nice for your own good, saying yes before really thinking it all through. You only realized you had after the words left your mouth so you mentioned Sean to save yourself a bit.

Steve’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you.

“Awesome, you’re the best. Maybe we can get together at that cafe on 3rd next Tuesday around noon?”

“Of course, I’ll be there” You confirm.

____

Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough for Steve. He didn’t need any help in art history, he was averaging about an 87, actually. But when you turned him down he knew he had to find another way to get closer to you and he knew that you’d say yes out of pressure.

All in all things were going pretty well for Steve. Despite your shy nature he’d managed to get closer to you much quicker than he expected. He loved watching you get flustered whenever he was close, finding it hard not to get flustered himself. He was impatient for things to move forward but he knew it would all pan out. There was only one wrench in the plan; your boyfriend Sean.

The other night when Steve had followed you home and witnessed Sean manhandle you in your apartment he began thinking of how to remove him from the picture. Steve did his research on Sean and found it suspicious he couldn’t find anything on him. Usually after a little digging you can find something off about anyone, but not him. Steve knew it would take a little more effort, but for you he’d make it.

So that’s how Steve wound up spending his night off in the corner of the dive bar that was just off campus. Off campus enough that you’d need to drive there. He had tailed Sean’s Jeep there after his club soccer game in hopes of finding something he could actually use to justify getting rid of him for you. He groused as he pulled into the parking garage across the street and pocketed his parking stub. He waited a few beats and watched Sean leave his car.

He slinked in the door and grabbed a dimly lit corner booth. The residue of whatever cleaner this place used was causing his forearms to stick to the table at his booth and the air stunk of vape smoke. He was surrounded by other 20-somethings, awkward Tinder hookups and frat bros meeting up to blow off steam.

On the opposite side of the room he spotted Sean, watched him as he approached the bar for another pint. He’d followed him here in hopes of getting some sort of information on him that he could use. After an hour of nursing one beer and absolutely nothing happening with Sean Steve had been ready to give up.

Just as he was getting ready to down the rest of his drink the door had opened and in walked a girl around his age. She looked nervous but excited as she looked around the place. She nearly squealed as she rushed over when she found who she was looking for. A smile slowly crawled across Steve’s face as the girl rushed into Sean’s arms and embraced him with a kiss. This is exactly what Steve needed to get him out of the picture.

Steve discreetly took out his phone and snapped a few photos, even got a video of them kissing again. He figured this would be enough to blackmail Sean into leaving you. Getting what he needed, he grabbed his jacket and left the bar. He felt light as a feather walking home, his plan was finally setting into motion and it wouldn’t be long until you were together.

Tuesday had finally come and Steve’s good mood only carried over. He practically skipped to the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at. He grabbed a table and waited for you. When he saw you open the door he was grinning ear to ear but his expression quickly changed taking in your appearance. You looked exhausted, like you’d been crying again. This wouldn’t do.

“What’s wrong? Is it your boyfriend again?” Steve asked.

You nodded silently and set down your bag with a huff.

“He’s just been out really late lately, I feel like he’s never home. Then again I’m always out late.”

“Well I’m glad you’re a night owl, otherwise we wouldn’t have met” Steve tried to turn the conversation back to them and to keep it positive.

“I guess you’re right. You didn’t order anything?” You frowned, noticing his empty hands.

“I was waiting for you, it’s my treat.” You opened your mouth to protest but Steve was quick to add, “Don’t even try to argue with me on this one.”

You sighed but ultimately relented, following him to the counter. He let you order first.

“Um, just a small hot chocolate please, thank you so much”

Steve thought it was cute that you didn’t drink caffeine, he knew hot chocolate was your drink of choice. He knew this of course from hours of pouring over every profile of yours he could find on the internet. He even found your tumblr you were just sure nobody knew about. Turns out you’ve got quite the dirty mind. But that was a thought for another day. Steve turned back to the counter and ordered black coffee and paid the bill.

With drinks in hand you made your way back to your table and settled in for an afternoon of art history. It went smoothly overall and Steve even got you to laugh a few times. He’d perfectly played his balance of pretending not to know about the subject while seeming to be learning what you were teaching. He could tell you felt proud of yourself for accomplishing something and he was happy he could make you feel that way. He was sure he was the only one that could.

You called it a day and said your goodbyes, you went in for an awkward hug which Steve accepted wholeheartedly. He’d even managed to finally snag your number so you two could work out more study times. Maybe you were coming around much easier than he anticipated. He smiled to himself and on the walk home began to devise a plan to get rid of Sean. It’d only be a matter of days if everything went accordingly.

____

You were basking in the rare day off, taking every moment to enjoy doing absolutely nothing. You’d felt drained lately from your class workload, late nights at the library, and your elevating fights with Sean. He was at work today followed by an evening class so you had uninterrupted alone time. Around 10pm it took every ounce of your free will to get off the couch and get the mail.

You milled over to your box and jammed the key in. Pulling the mail out your head titled in curiosity at the large unmarked manila folder. No return address written, only yours but there was nothing indicating whether it was for you or Sean. You’d open it when you got back upstairs.

Finally back to your spot on the couch your fingers slowly undid the folder’s metal clasp and you reached inside for its contents. Out came several photos and a hastily written note. You held the grainy photos closer to your face to make out what they were. When you did your heart plummeted and you went into emotional shock.

Though the photos were grainy it was very clear what they were of. Shots of Sean and some mystery brunette making out in a bar. Sean with his arm around her waist, Sean with his hand on her ass. All the photos were timestamped for only a few days ago when he claimed his soccer game was running late. You dropped them instantly and they scattered to the floor.

Your heart was hammering in your ears, you didn’t know what to think. Sean was the only boyfriend you’d ever really had, Sean loved you, you loved him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remembered there was a note. You searched for it and tried to read it through the tears that were beginning to blur your vision.

‘I know what you did. You tell her or I will. You have three days’

You didn’t recognize the handwriting. Who would send this? Why would they send it? You and Sean didn’t have many friends and you couldn’t picture them doing this. Maybe this is some prank? Maybe the timestamp is wrong and this is before you were together.

Sean was all you’d ever known and you shared an apartment, it’s not like you’d have anywhere to go or anyone to turn to. Should you confront him with these? It’s not like you two were exactly good at solving your problems. Would he leave you if you showed him these? What then?

Your mind was spinning, unsure of what to do with this new information. Maybe you could keep quiet about this, try to spend some more time with Sean, make him see what the two of you have. Maybe you can ask him to be home more, maybe you could be home more too.

You took a deep breath and wiped your tears before you gathered the photos and put them back into the envelope. You decided you’d hold onto them for now, tucking them away in your drawer of the dresser. Deciding you’d just work yourself up if you stayed up you shot Sean a text goodnight and went to bed.

Morning came and he was snuggled into your side, the comfort you felt had you feeling like everything might be okay for a moment. You stayed in bed just a little longer and turned so he could hold you in his arms. Your heart felt so unsure and scared, but you didn’t know what else you could do.

The week passed by and you decided to shift more of your energy towards your relationship with Sean, pushing your nights at the library to the backburner. You still hadn’t told him about the envelope but you did tell him you missed him and wished he was home more. He relented and was home four nights this week instead of his usual two.

The time together was uncomfortable but you kept telling yourself that things were getting a little better over time, even if your studies were suffering for it. As the week went on you were able to suppress your doubts about your relationship a bit more. Sean loved you and you loved him.

You couldn’t ignore the oncoming threat of midterms forever, though. The last thing you wanted was to be alone because you knew that your thoughts would just spiral but you needed to do well this semester so you grabbed your bag and headed out.

You swipe through the doors, almost looking forward to seeing Steve. You’d blown off your study session with a profuse apology so you could be with Sean. You were eager to apologize in person but found the reference desk to be completely abandoned. You frowned, maybe Steve was putting away books or something. You’d see him eventually though, for now you had an essay to write.

Hours could have gone by and you wouldn’t have known. You were getting so much done though, it felt good to be focused on something other than your own thoughts.

“Where’ve you been?”

You jump in your seat. You turn around to find Steve emerging from the shelves that were just out of your view. He wore a neutral expression but you could cut the tension with a knife. He stepped forward and you debated on what to say.

“Sorry, I had to cancel with you this week. How are you getting along?”

“Nothing another tutoring session couldn’t fix, I’m sure. Were you sick? I feel like you haven’t been here in forever. The nights get awful lonely without ya here”

Why did Steve keep making statements like that when he knew you had a boyfriend? It was driving you insane and getting harder to ignore them.

“Um, no, I was with Sean, actually. But y’know, can’t avoid midterms forever” You gave a half-hearted laugh hoping to lighten things up.

Steve’s neutral expression is slipping, but you can’t tell if he’s angry or not. But his face broke out into a small smile, putting you at ease instantly. He clapped you on the shoulder and took a step back.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. We still on for Tuesday?”

You gave him an easy smile and nodded.

“I’ll be counting the days” With that Steve disappeared back between the shelves.

____

The moment Steve placed the envelope in the mail he felt a confidence he hadn’t felt before. All he had to do was wait for you to open the envelope and everything would take its course. He knew Sean was at work and you’d be the one to get the mail that day. From his spot he’d peered in your windows all those weeks ago he watched you open the photos. You dropped them to the ground and held a hand to your mouth to cover what looked like a sob. Steve smiled to himself, now all you had to do was leave him.

The week went on and Steve figured you might need a little time to break it off and he’d be there at the library, waiting to comfort you. It’s not like you had any other friends in your life to turn to. But then you cancelled your study session with no explanation. Steve figured maybe you were still in shock, needed to cry it out alone. Then two days turned to four turned to seven.

Steve was confused, he was infuriated even. Why hadn’t you come to the library yet? Why hadn’t you texted him? There’s no way that you were actually going to stay with him after you saw him with another woman. Except that’s exactly what he did.

Looking back on it Steve recognized his mistakes. He knew you were shy and meek, sweet, it’s what he loved about you. But he should’ve accounted for this to happen. You were too sweet for your own good, wanting to make it work with Sean. It was an obstacle he hadn’t seen but this is just a slight bump in the plan. He can work around it.

When he saw you coming up the steps on the security camera he made himself scarce, not ready to face you just yet. He gave you some hours to study before he made himself known to you. He could tell just by the way you talked that you were in complete denial about what was happening. You weren’t strong enough to leave him but that’s okay, Steve is strong enough for the both of you right now, he’ll help you get there.

____

Just when you thought things were getting better Sean was back to becoming distant, going out with his teammates and coming home still a little drunk. The more you thought about those photos and thought about how he slipped back into old habits so easily the more you were working up the courage to confront him. You weren’t sure if you’d leave him, but maybe it would make him change.

Then the second envelope came. More photos of them kissing and leaving the bar together. They were time stamped just two nights ago. Your heart fell through the floor as you tried to make sense of things. How much of this could you put up with? When was enough? You needed to confront him when he got home.

You texted him to try to come home early tonight, saying it was important. You spent the rest of the evening planning out your words and trying to quell the oncoming panic attacks. Time passed by in a blur and before you knew it it was midnight and you still had no word from Sean. You couldn’t spend one more minute alone, you needed to get out. You needed a friend.

Your body was on autopilot as your feet carried you up the steps of the library. Steve wasn’t at the desk and you felt almost distressed. You knew he’d be a good third party to talk all this out to and you didn’t know what to think when he wasn’t there. You decided to shoot him a text.

‘Hey, I know you usually work Thursdays, I’ll be at my usual spot, I could really use a friend if you’re not too busy’ Did that sound too desperate? At this point you didn’t care.

You sunk down into your chair on the second floor with a huff. You hadn’t brought your bag so it’s not like you could study to distract yourself. As it turned out you didn’t need to.

“I’m never too busy for you, doll. ‘Specially not at this job” Steve’s voice carried as he rounded a corner into your sight.

You felt instantly better before you realized you were crying. It was hard to be vulnerable but if you could trust anyone with this it was Steve. You gave him a weak smile as he pulled up a chair beside you.

“What’s wrong? Do you need tissues?”

“No, sorry, I just.” You were struggling to find the words. “Sean is cheating on me”

Steve’s hands clenched into fists, he looked absolutely furious for you.

“Are you serious? That bastard! Doll, I’m so sorry. Have you confronted him?” His hand reached for yours and his thumb rubbed light circles.

“I-I, I haven’t said...anything. I just. He loves me y’know? Why would he do that? He’s all I have? What happens if he leaves me where will I stay I’ll be completely alone, I’ll-”

You had worked yourself into a panic attack as you desperately tried to take gulps of air while tears streamed down your face. You were losing touch with your surroundings and spiraling into a place you couldn’t get yourself out of. Steve moved his chair closer to you and brought you into his lap. He held your back to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. You could just make out what he was saying.

“Doll, it’s okay, I need you to breathe with me, can you do that? Take a deep breath in with me. Hold it and count to five with me,” You do but you’re still struggling. “Now exhale, count again for me. You’re doing so well, you can do this.”

Eventually Steve is able to bring you back down to Earth and you slumped back into his arms. You don’t care that Steve is holding you, it feels safe. You shifted so you could lean your head against his chest and let out a heavy sigh. He holds you to himself and lets you sit there for a while.

You don’t know how much time passes but you sit up slowly and he’s reluctant to let you go. You wipe your eyes as you go back to your own chair.

“Sorry, I’m keeping you from your job. Sorry I just totally came here and freaked out” You were starting to feel embarrassed, oversharing your life and emotions with him. You really liked him, you didn’t want to think you’d ruined the friendship.

“Don’t even apologize. You can always come to me.” He gave you a warm smile and you felt reassured. “So what are you going to do about Sean?”

Another hour had gone by with Steve and you could see the sun starting to come through the windows. You had decided you would confront him and go from there. You weren’t ready to fully commit to leaving him but this needed to end one way or another. For the first time in two weeks you felt like things were maybe going to be okay. The next time you saw Sean you were going to confront him.

____

Clearly seeing that you weren’t going to do anything after he sent the photos, he had to go to plan B. Steve waited outside the practice field and followed him to the parking structure once again. He jammed the parking stub in his jacket pocket along with the others and repeated his previous trips here. It was astounding how unaware Sean was of his surroundings, Steve had followed him and that girl from the bar back to her place at least twice now.

Getting what he needed he put another envelope in the mail the next day, this time with no note but the photos were more upsetting. It hurt Steve to hurt you but it’s what needed to be done. You were never going to confront him with things as they were so he had to push the envelope, literally and metaphorically. The hurt would be worth it though, because you came crying to him just like he’d hoped you would. Seeing your text warmed his heart, you needed him and he’d be there. Every time.

He knew he’d be comforting you but he didn’t think that he’d get to hold you. He was hiding his smile as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you down from your panic attack. You did so well listening to him and calming down. He was convinced he was the only one that could help you, you just needed to see that.

Steve abandoned his cart of books that needed to be shelved but he couldn’t care less. He’d stay up all night with you every night if that’s what it took. As dawn broke the two of you devised a plan and he built you up to say something. You weren’t committed to leaving him, which Steve wasn’t happy about, but you were committed to confronting him, if only you’d get the chance.

Based on what Steve knew of both yours and Sean's schedules you’d just miss each other between classes during the day and Sean had a game tonight, which would inevitably lead to a night at the bar. All Steve had to do was wait. He had to contain his excitement, things were finally finally falling right into place, they just needed a final push.

Nightfall came and this time Steve beat Sean to the structure. Steve parked on the top level and stuck the parking stub in his pocket. He didn’t feel like he was taking a risk by counting on Sean to follow routine, he was a good boy, he’d park in his same spot he always did and proceed to get wasted across the street.

A slow smile creeped across Steve’s face as Sean and his teammates stumbled into the bar, probably already drunk from pre-gaming. Sean’s sidepiece wouldn’t come to the bar tonight, her sorority having some dumb mixer or another. Steve reminded himself of his mantra to wait. His phone buzzed and he saw it was a text from you. You two had been texting after you came to him in the library.

‘He’s not responding to my texts. I know he had a game tonight but I really thought he’d be here’

He’d have to text you back another time, Steve needed to be on his toes tonight. He sat at what was becoming his usual booth for nearly two hours, barely touching his pint. Finally Sean paid his tab and said goodnight to his friends. Steve pulled down the brim of his hat and pursued him towards the parking structure. Drunken and fumbling up through the stairwell, Steve entered behind him quietly while taking out a knife he’d stolen from Bucky. He always knew his friend’s strange obsession with them would come in handy someday.

Just as Sean was about to take the final step Steve grabbed him from behind. Sean’s reactions may have been slowed but it hadn’t stopped him trying to thrash out of the grip. His efforts stopped immediately as Steve held the blade to his throat. He spoke clearly and in a low voice.

“Keep walking up the stairs or I will slit your fucking throat, do you hear me?” He brought the knife closer to his neck to drive home the threat.

“E-easy man, please, please don’t do this”

“Keep moving. Up.”

Steve pushed him all the way towards his car at the edge of the top level. He flipped Sean around so his back was to the ledge, the knife still trained closely on him. Pleads for mercy fell on deaf ears.

“What do you wan’!? You wan’ money!? Take, take my wallet man I don’t need it, jus’ please don’t kill me please!”

Steve pushed him slightly, though his grip on him remained tight. Sean struggled against him as his body weight wavered over the ledge. He must have realised how far up they were because he started crying at this point, begging even harder as he teetered and trying desperately to get his bearings against the wall.

“Why are you doing this!?” He wailed, “I’ll do anything, please! Please, I have a girlfriend, I have a family”

That was all that it took. Steve was feeling a high like he’d never felt. He knew at this moment he was doing the right thing for both of you. With a rush of adrenaline and in a flash of certainty he pushed Sean’s body over the edge. He didn’t watch him fall the seven stories down to the ground, but he did wait to hear the sickening crack and thud of his body hitting the ground. There was no way he’d survived.

Blood rushing through his ears, he felt euphoric, so powerful, so in love with you. He climbed back into his car and headed for his apartment. His plan wasn’t quite complete yet though, but everything he needed to do was done. He could watch the rest unfold from the sidelines. He knows you’ll be heartbroken all over again when you find out, but he’ll be there to pick up the pieces.

____

You’d been in mourning for nearly two months. The shock you’d felt wasn’t comparable to any other feeling you’d felt. The police ultimately ruled his death an accident, they performed an autopsy and found dangerous amounts of alcohol in his system. They weren’t able to pinpoint an exact time of death but estimated 2-3 AM, as he’d been found in the morning. They figured he’d just gotten piss drunk and came too close to the edge. And he was gone just like that.

His death weighed heavy on you, you blamed yourself for a long time. He wouldn’t have stayed out if you hadn’t pushed him so far away from you. The last thing you ever said to him was nagging and whiny, no wonder he didn’t want to come home. To think that you were possibly going to leave him. You felt so much self-contempt but slowly you were learning to forgive yourself.

You don’t know what you’d have done without Steve by your side. He was there for you every step of the way. He held you at the funeral, he helped you pack up Sean’s things in the apartment, he took your late night phone calls and came over at the drop of a hat to help you through your grief. You were eternally grateful for his selflessness and his willingness to help you heal.

Guilt loomed over you once again as the old feelings you’d had for Steve in the early days of your friendship started to flare up again. It felt natural to feel them, with him being closer to you than he ever was, but it didn’t stop you from feeling shame over it. You had to remind yourself that you weren’t culpable for anything that happened, that Sean himself was interested in someone else when he’d died. You had to forgive yourself for these feelings for Steve. Maybe even pursue them.

‘Can you come over tonight? I think we should talk’ Your nerves were on fire from the rush you got sending him that text.

‘How about you come to my place? 7? We can go for something to eat if you want.’ Your heart was fluttering, was this a date?

‘Sounds good :)’

Checking the time you saw it was 4, you spent the next few hours obsessing over what to say. No matter what you were determined to tell him your feelings for him. You were debating whether or not you should kiss him. Would he even want you back? What if he only sees you as a friend now? The hours whiled away and you took a deep breath before setting out.

You’d been to Steve’s apartment only once before, you knew he lived alone but he’d managed to make the place feel homey. You were buzzed in and before you had the chance to knock on the door Steve had it open and was waiting for you. His smile was all teeth and it was contagious, you smiled back looking up at him and he let you in.

You sat down on the couch and waited for Steve. No turning back now. Deep breath. He sat down and turned to face you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

No words were coming to you. Your mouth opened but you could only sputter. Oh God, where were the words? Do something!

So you did. Before you could think about it you put a shaky hand up to Steve’s jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. You didn’t know what you were feeling, you were just waiting for Steve to respond. You began to pull back but before you could he took your face in his hands and kissed you back tenderly but with purpose. Your arms were around him and he pulled you closer into his lap to kiss you more passionately.

You finally pulled apart to catch your breath. You snuck a look up to his face and you were nervous but you felt like you were floating.

“You have… no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” He said between breaths.

You two smiled like idiots and he brought his lips to yours again. The kiss deepened and a moan slipped from your mouth. This seemed to spark something in Steve and his hands shakily moved over your body. He was feeling every curve of you and you ground down into his lap and his hips bucked up in response. You have no idea where this confidence came from but you’d never felt more sure of yourself. You broke apart again and Steve was breathing heavily.

“Is this what you want?” He asked. You could only nod before he was on you again. He pulled you up from the couch and led you to his bed. This time he laid you back and was hovering over you, slowly undoing the buttons of your jeans. You helped him get yourself out of them and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. How was this happening? Who cares?

He sat back and took the sight of you in, he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing. He slowly removed his clothes and moved back over you, kissing his way up your thighs before pulling your panties down your legs. He continued laving away at your skin, making you nervous but excited. His fingers brushed your core and he brought them up to his face.

“Sweetheart, you are dripping.” Your cheeks heated instantly as he chuckled. Not giving you the chance to respond he dove right in. Two fingers entered you and you arched your back, his tongue lapped up your wetness and then at your clit. You’d really never known pleasure like this, no one had ever done this for you before. His fingers pumped in and out of you and your hands flew to his hair and pulled. He continued on and curved his fingers just slightly and you clenched down around him, you were so close.

“Please, I’m so close” you whimpered.

Steve doubled his efforts and before you knew it the tension he had been building up was released in a white hot flash of ecstasy. You writhed against his fingers as he kept pumping them into you. Finally he relented, pulling them out and licking them clean. You’d never seen something that made you feel so filthy but so so good.

He took off his boxers and encased you in his arms. He kissed your neck and you moaned again at the feeling. You spread yourself for him and he lined himself up and groaned. The stretch was something you weren’t ready for. It burned almost, you cried out as he put his whole length in you. He waited all of two seconds before he began thrusting into you. You weren’t ready but you were adjusting quickly with the way his cock hit that spot inside of you over and over.

You were holding onto his shoulders, nails digging in deep as he started to go harder and faster.

“I’m close” He panted into your ear.

Reaching down his fingers found your clit and started moving back and forth quickly, trying to match his thrusts. The tension was building again to a breaking point and you were getting close again. He worked you even harder until you broke, cumming for a second time. Your eyes were screwed shut in ecstasy as you cried again.

“Steve!”

That was all it took before he slammed into you a final time, you could feel his release and you’d never felt closer to him. His movements stopped and your noses touched. He kissed you hard before rolling off of you.

“That was… oh my god” you breathed.

“I know, me too” Steve chuckled. “So can I take you to dinner?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” You grinned wide and nodded.

You cleaned yourself up and redressed. You were taking in Steve’s room and found yourself smiling at the photos of him and Bucky, little knick-knacks on his dresser. You found a sticky note on the calendar at his desk. You squinted. Had you seen his handwriting before?

You shrugged and flopped yourself back on the bed. You checked the weather on your phone and frowned at the temperature, you let out a small groan.

“What is it?” Steve called from the bathroom as he cleaned up.

“It’s so coooold and I forgot my jacket” You pouted.

“Just take mine, it’s the brown leather one hanging in the living room” He was so sweet.

Gingerly, you made your way into the living room and found the jacket, slipping it on. You don’t know what was taking Steve so long but you shoved your hands in the pockets and waited for him. You felt something in the right pocket. Is this trash? You pulled out little wadded up pieces of paper and unfolded them.

They were parking stubs. They were from the same structure that Sean had fallen from. Your heart was pounding, upset just thinking of him. Looking closer one of them was stamped for 2:15 AM, 2/1, the night that he died. Okay...

1 AM 1/15, 11:57PM 1/28, They matched the timestamp on the photos that had been sent to you. Two others were from nights when Sean had games and had stayed out late. Your heart was in your throat and tears were forming in your eyes, trying to find some explanation. You thought again of the first time you’d received an envelope, those photos, that note. It had dawned on you why the note looked so familiar… The handwriting! Oh, God... Your whole world slowed down as you heard footsteps bound into the room. Slowly you turned, the stubs still in your shaking hands.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve took a step further, “You weren’t supposed to see those.”