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#it’s been like half an hour since i got the message and i’m still in shock like idk how to process it
arklay · 8 months
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my disability support pension got approved
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fetusgooseandjuice · 4 months
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Trust Me
Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)
Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)
Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!
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You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.
Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.
Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.
When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.
After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.
You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?
‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.
But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.
Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.
You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.
The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.
Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.
You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.
The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.
As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.
“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.
You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”
She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”
You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.
“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”
“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.
You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.
Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.
“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”
Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.
“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.
For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.
“Since we left the states.” you admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”
You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.
“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”
Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.
“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.
“I’m sorry.” you said.
She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.
“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”
You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.
The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.
“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”
You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.
“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”
“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”
“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.
“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”
You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.
“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”
Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.
“Nat, what are you—”
“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”
So you did.
Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.
You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.
“Nat, I don’t think—”
“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”
“I do, but—”
“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”
“Yeah.” you confirmed.
“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”
“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.
A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.
The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.
Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.
After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.
She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.
“Told you to trust me.”
~ end ~
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nocturnalrat · 10 months
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can you do tired stressed miles (earth42! Or regular 1610! Miles)
Miles had a stressful time at work(fighting or sumn) and reader is just being a hugeee brat so he puts her in her place 🥹💕
Hi! Thanks for the prompt!
I chose Prowler!Miles for this, as I think he’d be more assertive & possessive than our ball of sunshine aka Earth-1610 Miles. :p Enjoy!
---
Dating someone with a double life had certain advantages, without question. But the list of drawbacks was just as long.
Moments like these made you realize how frustrating and difficult dating him could be sometimes.
You had planned on meeting tonight. But while you were waiting outside the movie theater, the following messages appeared on your phone:
won't make it tnight
sry
will make it up 2 u
You stared at the three texts and were irritated to no end. It had been weeks since you had last spent time together, just the two of you, and now you were being stood up by him. Again.  
When you finally arrived home, you ordered some food, worked on an essay for one of your college classes, and kept looking at the clock hanging on the wall.
Hours passed. You finished the essay, prepared a presentation for your biochem class, and tried to keep yourself awake with the help of coffee and an energy drink.
It was half past two in the morning when the front door opened quietly. He probably thought you were asleep. Well, he was wrong.
"Do you know what the word priority means?" you asked, annoyance clearly evident in your voice.
He didn't flinch when he saw you, nor did he look particularly surprised. Of course he didn't. There wasn't much that could startle Miles Morales; he was far too composed, too stoic, too stern for that.
Wretched fatigue showed on his face; he had dark circles under his eyes. Others would have found his moody demeanor threatening, but you knew that he was not half as evil as he looked. 
His reply came quick. "And do you know what the word responsibility means?"
You knew that this particular part of his life, and the responsibilities that came with it, took up a lot of his time. But that didn't mean you were happy or okay with it.
 "You stood me up three times in a row," you said, arms crossed in front of your chest. You tried not to pout too much and sound like a petulant child. "You know, Morales, not many people would put up with the shit you pull sometimes."
He raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Yeah, but you’re still here. Do you know why?" He took a few steps toward you.
"Easy one,” you replied. “Because I’m too nice and too good for you.”
“Don’t be bratty.”
“It’s the truth, though.” You shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “You know how many options I have? You’re not the only good-looking guy in New York, Miles.”
You knew immediately that you had said something wrong. His gaze darkened and he clenched his jaw.
You felt a chill run down your spine.
"What I meant by that is -" you started, but he cut you off.
"Shut up. Do you know why you’re still with me, despite the circumstances?”  
He leaned his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands.
"I asked you a question." His grip tightened.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and attempted to shake your head, but you couldn't move; his grip was too strong. "No," you said quietly.
"Because you’re mine," he replied, and his voice was velvety and soft. "Mine alone. You belong to no one else. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Good.” He smiled as he stroked your hair. "I never want to hear you say something like that again.”
"Then stop being so tired and stressed all the time," you muttered, unable to keep the hurt and sadness from your voice.
"You wanna know what would make me feel less stressed and tired?" A smug grin appeared on his face.
You rolled your eyes. "Pretty presumptuous, don't you think?"
"I'd rather call it determined and self-assured."
"The answer’s no. You don't deserve it."
"Really?" He kissed the corner of your mouth. "Didn't you say you missed me?"
"Just because I missed you doesn't mean I'm going to throw my self-respect overboard -" But the firmness of your sentence faltered as his large hands began to caress your body.
"Mine," he whispered against your lips. "And what's mine, obeys."
You loved it when he called you his own, when he put you in your place. A tingling, warm feeling blossomed inside you.
The following day you woke up next to a handwritten note and a box of your favorite chocolate.
8 p.m. tonight, Lincoln Square 13.
It's a promise.
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seungmoonandstars · 5 months
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𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒
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Kim Seungmin/Female Reader
wc: 8.5k
rating: mature/explicit ಇ
comments: part three was heavily edited from it's original version. There are most likely some grammatical errors that I've glossed over from staring at the screen for so long. Feel free to send a message and let me know if you see anything wildly wrong.
→ PART ONE
→ PART TWO
Part 3 of 4
“You can’t be nervous if I’m nervous.”
He’s right. You take a deep breath and turn to face him again. Kiss him on the lips. Your free hand snakes around his waist, finds the hem of his shirt, and tucks underneath to run over his skin.
His muscles tighten for a second, then slowly relax as your hand moves upward against his side and back across his shoulder blade. He sighs as you touch him.
You haven’t felt this much of his body until now.
-
Your plane lands four hours later than scheduled. You’re tired, hungry, and your back is killing you. Korea Air is fine, and it always has been, but 13 hours in coach is something you’ll never get used to.
There were no plans to travel home up until three days ago, and it’s a miracle you got the week off to deal with your family. As much as you hate doing it, you don’t mind a change of scenery and a break from your typical work days in Korea.
Honestly, this is the perfect solution to the loneliness and monotony. It was only three weeks ago that you finally got to see Seungmin again, but it’s been a long three weeks. And he has kept his promise of keeping in touch.
Every single day since date number two, he's sent at least one text. You try to send messages only when he does, but occasionally you can’t help yourself, and you send something in the middle of your work day, or right before you go to bed. You’re still a little worried about being a bother, and holding back your clingy-ness has been difficult, but he always sends something back. Not always right away, but he does answer. And he sends selfies often—those texts are your favorite.
You have failed to mention that you’ve been on your way to Chicago (he sent a text about two hours ago, letting you know the first two shows had gone well), and that you’d be arriving the day before he would also be in the same city. But you’ll let him know soon. You don’t have much hope for getting to see him while you’re both here; he’s busy, and the last thing you want to do is bother him during a tight schedule. But he's been the only thing on your mind for weeks.
You managed to get a ticket to the Chicago concert the night you realized you be in town for it, but it wasn’t cheap. Even if you don’t get to see him alone, seeing him on stage will be worth the price.
____
“Who are you talking to?”
There’s a giggle in his ear, and a sharp chin lands on his shoulder. “Why are you smiliiing?”
IN grabs Seungmin’s shoulders and takes a seat directly behind him, giving him a good view of the phone in his friends hands.
“Don’t be nosy.”
“Is it the girl you’ve been talking to?”
Seungmin half turns and stares at IN, then looks him up and down, “What are you talking about?”
IN stares back wordlessly, a grin plastered on his face. He’s squinting his eyes at him accusingly. “I’m talking about the girl you’re always texting.”
Seungmin picks up his iced coffee, takes a sip, then releases himself from IN’s stare.
IN follows him across the room.
“Send her a cute selfie.”
“I already did.”
“Oh, haha!” He beams with pride at thinking he got him to slip up. “Did she send one back? Can I see her?”
“No. And no.”
“I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”
“How did you know if nobody else knows?”
IN stops and thinks for a moment, then he side-eyes the other two members that are currently in the same room. They’re too far away to hear the conversation, but Seungmin stands and heads over to them.
“Chan?”
Chan turns and looks at him with a smile. He doesn’t get a chance to speak before Seungmin does.
“Did you tell IN about her?”
It takes him a few seconds to process what he’s being asked. “No, no…I didn’t tell anyone.” his voice lowers as he realizes what they’re talking about.
“How does he know?”
Chan peaks around him at IN, who’s already staring wide eyed. He beckons him over with two fingers, and he runs over, unbothered.
“How do you know?” He asks softly, very curiously. “I didn’t tell you.”
“I just guessed.”
Seungmin and Chan stare, speechless.
“I always see him smiling and laughing while he’s texting, and then taking selfies. I didn’t know he was actually texting…” he looks around at the others that just walked into the room. “…texting someone.” He whispers the last part.
“The less people that know, the better…” Chan says, but casually, as if he knows he doesn’t really have to tell IN. “It’s nothing serious, right Seungmin?”
“Huh…” he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. “Oh um, no…it’s not.”
Chan stares a little longer, “is it?”
Seungmin feels like his mind is being read. “We just talk a lot.”
He nods and leaves it at that. IN smiles at Seungmin once more before walking off. Then he pulls his phone out to check his notification.
Sounds like you guys had a good time. I did catch some fan videos from last night!
He smiles at the text, and then wonders what you’re doing up at four in the morning.
____
You pull out your phone, hoping the buzz in your pocket is him.
What are you doing up so late? Are you okay?
Oh, you forgot about the time difference. Maybe it’s time to let him know you’re not in Korea.
“I’m okay. I just landed in Chicago. I had a family thing come up, and I had to come home. I promise I’m not following you.”
You see him typing a few seconds after your message is delivered.
oh, you’re from Chicago! That’s so exciting that you’re here. Are you coming to the concert tomorrow night? Please come!
Before you have time to reply, he’s typing again…
Maybe not if you have family to see
“No, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it”
let me know what seats you have…maybe I can get you closer
You’re trying to text him and stuff your bags into the trunk of you moms car at the same time.
“I don’t think they’re very close, but I’ll let you know as soon as I get home”
don’t worry, I’ll figure something out
“What are you so smiley about?” Your mom asks and slams the trunk shut.
“Just a text.”
____
“Sooo…”
“Soooo what?” Seungmin glances at IN. He has an inkling about what he’s getting at, and he’s trying not to indulge him too much. But Seungmin will admit that if any of them were going to find out prematurely, he's glad it was him.
“Can I see her?” He’s careful and quiet saying it. “Please?”
“Fine, give me a second.” He types a quick message and then pulls up the photos you’ve both shared. He finds one of the very few selfies you’ve sent him and shoves it a few inches from IN’s face.
He looks and his eyes widen, smirk grows. “Oh she’s not…” he stops himself and lowers his excited voice, “she’s not Korean? Oh she sent a text.” He giggled and tries to finish reading before Seungmin pulls the phone back.
“No, she’s not.”
“Where is she from?”
“Chicago. She’s here now, too.”
“Oh she’s gonna come see us tomorrow!”
Seungmin nods and types, “yeah, she is coming. I need to get her a better seat.”
“Sneak her into soundcheck.“
____
The next morning, you wake up to the buzzing of a text notification. A Seungmin message. You open it up and squint through sleepy, jet-lagged eyes. It’s barely 8 am. You slept an entire ten hours, at least.
Good morning 🤍 if you’re able to, come down to the venue at around 2!
A close-up selfie follows. You can only see his eye, a peace sign, and a little bit of hair.
And a heart emoji. That combination is a first.
You reply, set an alarm, and immediately fall back asleep.
And luckily, you don’t sleep through it. At eleven, you’re up, nervous, showered, more nervous, and then when it’s time to figure out your wardrobe, you feel like you’re going to puke. Knowing you’ll see Seungmin is keeping most of your nerves at bay, but the fact that it’ll be at an arena of this size, with this many people (you assume there will be a massive amount of fans already hanging around that early, because you know how concerts here are), and throw in the possibility of meeting his friends…you’re nervous.
____
It’s as busy near the venue as you expected. And you find yourself enjoying it, surprisingly. Seeing all of the fans gathered around and clearly having a good time, despite the heat, is nice.
You jump out of your Uber and send a text to Seungmin. You need a more accurate location to head to, but for now you don’t mind wandering around and people watching. Just a glance at someone seems to immediately give away their favorite member, and you make it a point to look for anyone who prefers your favorite.
A text message buzzes before you get too far.
there is a staff entrance at the box office, just walk in and pretend like you belong
That sounds like a terrible idea, but you trust him and head in that direction. It’s not very busy there, because the tickets have long since sold out, but there are staff members milling around. You don’t look like you belong, but you also know that attitude and demeanor can get you far, so…
____
Seungmin only mentioned his plan (IN’s, really) to Chan about ten minutes prior to his last message to you.
“I don’t know if that was the best idea,” he says. “Is she already here?”
“Yes, she’s somewhere outside. And I know.”
“Okay, I might have a solution. Wait here.”
Chan disappears for a few minutes, and in the meantime, Seungmin actually starts to feel a little nervous. His plan was simple: have you walk casually in through the staff entrance he’s already seen used many times that days, by many different people—some with and some without staff shirts or lanyards.
“Even if she gets in using your terrible plan,” Chan returns, and behind him is a man much larger and taller than either of them. “She can’t walk around alone or with you the entire time.”
“She gets her own bodyguard!”
“Chaperone. And she won’t look too out of place with him. “
“Thanks, Chan. Thank you, Jay.”
“No problem, buddy. Let’s go find her before she gets lost.” Jay pats Seungmin on the back and leads him down the hallway. “What does she look like?”
It’s a long walk toward the entrance, but both of them scan every person and group as they pass by. It gives the butterflies in his stomach more time to move up to his chest and throat.
“She’s right there!” Seungmin waves and gets your attention before approaching. He doesn’t want to make a scene, so he waits until none of the venue staff is around.
You have a hard time containing yourself when you finally catch sight of him. You don’t remember him ever smiling as wide as he is right now, and it makes your legs tremble a little.
You wave and wait for him to reach you.
“Hey…” Seungmin stands a few feet from you. He seems a little uneasy.
The man following behind him is obviously trying to keep some distance, but not too much distance. “I can turn away if it makes you both more comfortable.”
“No Jay, you’re fine,” Seungmin laughs but doesn’t look away from you.
“Is this your bodyguard?”
“He is, actually. But today he’s going to hang out with you so you don’t look out of place, and you have someone who knows what’s going on.”
“Oh, that's a relief.”
“But I’ll take you to our dressing room if you’d like…if you want to meet everyone."
"I'm...I do, but do you think it's too much? I mean, too much too soon?"
"Meeting them?" He thinks about it. His mouth is pushed to one side, puffing up his cheek. "I don't mind if you want to wait. We can always just go right out by the stage for soundcheck. You'll see them out there, they'll probably see you. You'll be a mystery."
"I like that idea. Maybe afterward I'll feel better about it."
He nods and waves Jay over. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.
“You look nice.” He lowers his voice and and drops his gaze to the floor. But you can still see his smile.
____
You’re sitting a few rows back from the main stage. Your chaperone is a few yards away and much more relaxed out here. There are so many people working the sound check that your extra face is hardly out of place, so now you feel like you can relax and enjoy the view.
All eight of them are on stage, along with a few band members, and some techs. There’s a camera filming everything just off stage, and another directly on stage with them. You watch Seungmin as he interacts with it. He looks relaxed and happy. No more worry in his eyes.
You get out the earplugs he gave you, but for now you just enjoy listening to him speak into his mic and headset. He looks at you a few times, but subtly, trying not to direct too much attention.
One of the others keeps looking your way, you assume out of confusion or curiosity. Or both. It’s Lee Know. You watch as he walks along the edge of the stage closest to where you’re sitting. Another member joins him and looks out; this one is smiling, almost as wide as Seungmin smiled at you earlier. You know who everyone is thanks to the endless videos you've watched. It's IN.
You try not to make too much eye contact, but you don’t avoid them completely. They seem to know who you are.
Your chaperone appears next to again and takes a seat, “having a good time?”
“I am, thank you for dealing with me.”
“No problem, anything for these boys.”
“Do you know them well?”
“I’ve been working with them for a while now, so I’d say I do. How’d a girl like you meet Mr. Kim?”
The Mr. Kim is said with a bit of sarcasm, but a cute, playful sarcasm. And by a girl like you, you assume he means an American.
“I live in Korea, near where he grew up. We met through a friend. Do we seem like a weird match? I mean…we’re not a couple—"
“Are you sure about that? He’s looking at you right now with those big puppy dog eyes.”
Jay points up to Seungmin. When you look, he quickly smiles and waves before running back to the center of the stage.
____
Your adrenaline is off the charts at the end of the concert. You had an idea of what to expect from footage of other concerts, but being there in person, watching them…watching him, was obviously on another level. You feel like you’ve been introduced to a new little part of Seungmin’s personality. You feel closer to him.
Now you’re back outside in the fresh night air. You haven’t heard from him yet, but you’re not surprised. He’s probably exhausted. You stick around, though. He didn’t mention anything about seeing each other after the concert ended, so you don’t assume anything or get your hopes up (even though they are, by default, always up when it comes to him).
A small group of girls—you can’t really tell how old, maybe around your age—find a place to sit near you. They’re understandably excited and very loud, so you listen in as they talk about their favorite parts, favorite songs, and biases. The loudest of the group is a Felix fan. You sneak a glance at them and one of them notices you.
She waves, “are you here alone?”
You look around and then point to yourself, “Me? Oh, yeah I am.”
The rest of them wave you over with such enthusiasm that you can’t possibly deny them your presence.
“Was it your first concert? It was mine, but not theirs. We’re flying to California for the first two next week.” The girl who looks the youngest, and has a Han Quokka plush strapped to her gestures to the whole group. “Are you going to any more?”
“This is the only one I got a ticket for, so probably not.
“Who’s you bias?” The one who spoke to you first asks.
You hesitate for a moment. Who is your bias?
“It’s Seungmin.”
The girl continues talking, but you’re distracted by the buzzing of your phone. It’s him.
you are still around, yeah?
“Of course! I’m outside”
Now he’s calling. “Sorry, I gotta get this!” You excuse yourself from the group and answer.
“Hi, it’s a little loud out here.”
“Okay, I just figured calling would be easier. Come back in the way you did earlier, I’m already here.”
“Okay, I’m near there. Give me 10 seconds.”
He starts counting down…
“Okay…nine…”
You laugh and speed up a little—
“Eight…”
—but there are more people here and dodging them is not easy.
“Seven…six…five…”
“Count slower!”
“Fooooouur…three…”
You see the door and push through a couple much harder than you intend, but your hand is pushing the door open just as Seungmin says—
“Two! You did it!”
He’s a good distance away, but you can see his smile. He takes a few steps toward you, but lets you finish closing the gap. He holds out his arms and pulls you into a hug, which catches you off guard. You’re surprised oh makes him giggle. There’s nobody around except for Jay, but it still feels very bold.
“You were amazing.” You squeeze him a little tighter around the waist, and he reciprocates.
“Thank you…I hope you had a good time.”
“I did,” you slowly release him but keep a bit of his shirt clenched in your fist. “What’s your plan for tonight?”
“Hotel tonight…and I think we are leaving in the morning. Unless they change things last minute, which sometimes happens.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to leave right away. It’d be nice if you stayed in Chicago a little longer, though.”
“Yes, it would be nice.” You see him glance at Jay and lower his voice. “I can let you know which hotel, though. And I’ll text you my room number.“
“Oh?” You feel your face getting hot, and Seungmin’s cheeks have definitely turned a shade of pink.
“Unless I have to share the room.”
“Well, you just let know which hotel. And we’ll figure something out if we need to.”
He nods shyly and takes your face in his hands. He doesn’t pull you in for a kiss, though, just gently rubs his thumb over your cheek. And it’s somehow even better.
“I have to go, but I’ll text you.” He disappears with Jay around the corner.
And then you panic a little, because you weren’t ready for a hotel invitation. You’re having flashbacks of the last date, and how heavy things got for just a few minutes. And how Seungmin reacted, because he hasn’t gone that far with anyone yet.
Maybe that isn’t what he was getting at. You’ve spent plenty of time with him alone in your apartment, why would being alone in his hotel be any different?
It’s just a feeling. Just in the way he lowered his voice and blushed. Things will play out how they’re supposed to, though. No pressure. You’d never put him in an uncomfortable situation.
It might be a good idea to prepare anyway.
Going home seems pointless, because the hotel is most likely here in the city. You don’t want to waste time traveling home and then back. You’re already short on time as it is.
But when you find a convenience store to pop into, you get a look at yourself in the mirror. It could be worse, you suppose. It was a hot day, and the concert was no different. Besides, Seungmin has already seen you like this. It can’t be that bad.
But you do buy a water to chug, gum, and when you pass by the condoms, you stare at them for far too long. Buying them means you expect something to happen, and you feel weird about expecting it for some reason. Not buying them and being unprepared seems worse, though.
You grab a pack. You grab two, actually. You did get a quick feel of him before. And you remember it well. Now you just have to deal with the awkwardness of checking out with two different sizes of condoms.
You stuff your purchases between the mess of other things in your bag and walk aimlessly for a few blocks. It’s still crowded down here, even though it’s getting late, and you can’t help but start worrying when almost an hour passes with no text from a Seungmin.
Maybe you should have gone home and waited.
But just as the thought crosses your mind, you get a message.
“Here’s the address, and my room number is 1344.”
Your heart starts to race when you read it. He has his own room, so things will at least be easy. And the address is only another two blocks away.
____
You text him when you get to his room instead of knocking. You’re afraid to make any unnecessary noise. He's shuffling around in the room before the latch clicks and the doorknob turns.
Somehow every time you see him, he’s even better looking.
The door is closed and locked behind you before either of you speak.
“Hi…you got here fast!”
“I was close by. Was I too fast?” You look him up and down. He’s in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his hair is a little damp.
“No, definitely not. As long as I don’t look like a wet dog.”
“No, you look very handsome,” you grab a handful of his shirt and pull him toward you. “It’s a good look.”
He leans forward and kisses you on the forehead. Another romantic gesture. It gives you butterflies. You like it, but you can't help but be baffled by his very bold and distinct romantic gestures. Three weeks ago he had a hard time with your hypothetical dating question. But that was three weeks ago.
“Do you want something more comfortable to wear? I can give you one of my shirts.
Okay, so maybe he does want you to spend the night, “Yes, I'd like that.”
He grabs one from his bag and shakes it out. Then he brings it to his face to smell it, “this is clean.”
“Thanks,” you hold it up and look at it.
“It not very big on me, so it should fit okay.”
You head into the bathroom and look at yourself again, try to get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down. Big breath in, slow breath out. It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to drive you crazy, but he’s doing a very good job.
You start taking off your necklaces, your bracelets, and then peel off your shirt that’s long since dried from the sweating you did all day. You check yourself for any offending odors, and even though it’s not bad, you take the time clean up the best you can.
It’s been a while since you had to do a sink bath before a potential lay. And every single one before this wasn’t even worth it. Seungmin is different, though.
Now you wonder if this is the way you want things to go. In a hotel, very little preparation. But you may not see him again for a while after tonight. And if this feels good for him, it's good for you.
There is still the possibility that he won’t be ready.
You slip into his shirt, and it's still pretty big. The sleeves reach your elbows and the bottom hem just covers your shorts. You could walk out without them and he might not even realize it—you take them off and fold them up neatly with your shirt and jewelry, look at yourself one more time, and then head back out to him.
“Oh, that looks good on you,” he turns from his seat at the edge of the bed, then pats his hands on the spot next to him. “Come here.”
As you climb onto the bed and crawl toward him, he slowly lies down on his back. “Are you tired?”
“No, not tired,” he props himself up on his elbow to get a better look at you. “Not yet...it takes a while to relax after a concert." He pulls at the hem of your shirt and his fingers slide across your thigh. He takes his hand away, so you grab it and put it back. Seungmin takes the hint and slides his palm to the side and gently squeezes.
When he looks up at you, you grin, but he just lets himself fall forward so he can hide his face in the blanket. You hear a big sigh, and maybe a soft laugh.
“What’s the matter?” You lie down next to him and wait until he turns his face to yours. “Minnie?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Do you want to get cozy and watch something?”
“Yes, that sounds nice.”
You pull the blankets down and fluff the pillows while he gathers himself again. “Which side do you prefer?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t usually have to choose.”
“Okay, I’ll take the left side.” You cover yourself up and relax against the pillows.
Seungmin follows, but he stays on top of the blankets for a moment and stares at you. You stare back and say nothing. Then he crawls underneath them, too.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You say.
He just pushes himself into the pillows and pulls the blanket up to his chin without a word, but he turns himself to face you.
You do the same.
“If that’s what you want.” He says.
You roll your eyes around as if you’re thinking and hmm under your breath. “Can I come closer?”
He nods.
You scoot yourself toward him until you can rest your forehead against his. “That’s better.”
“Can’t watch anything like this.”
“Oh, no I guess not,” you move back a little and look him over. “Should we—“
“No,” he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back. “This is good.”
You take the invitation and place your hand on his neck; he moves in for a kiss before you get the chance to, though. And he kisses hard enough to push you on your back.
For a moment you think this might be it, but you find yourself hesitating and softening your kiss. Then loosening the grip on his neck.
He pulls back and stares down at you.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” you cup his face and hold him there. “There’s no rush.”
“I know.” He comes back down, kisses you once, and then falls back at your side. But his arm remains draped over your stomach.
Your heart sinks a little. It feels like you don’t know what you want. Well, you do know you want him, but you’re nervous. Maybe just as nervous as he is. “Don’t think I don’t want to, because I do.”
Seungmin smiles and sets his head against your shoulder. “I know you do.”
He knows you want him. You’re glad he knows—and you love the way he says it.
“Are you stopping because you’re worried I’m not ready?”
“No, only you know that. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”
“You’re nervous?”
“I am.”
“You can’t be nervous if I’m nervous.”
He’s right. You take a deep breath and turn to face him again. Kiss him on the lips. Your free hand snakes around his waist, finds the hem of his shirt, and tucks underneath to run over his skin.
His muscles tighten for a second, then slowly relax as your hand moves upward against his side and across his shoulder blade. He sighs as you touch him.
You haven’t felt this much of his body until now.
You keep going, touching his stomach, his chest. It’s then that you feel his hand on you. It’s warm moving across your thigh, over your hip. His touch is soft, but he squeezes when he pulls you closer.
Seungmin slides his hand down to the back of your thigh and brings you as close as he can manage.
He’s on top off you again, hand still on you. His hips are gently pushing into yours. You can feel him through his sweatpants, and now your brain only wants one thing: to get them off of him.
“Seungmin,” you get him to look at you. “Seungmin?”
“Mhm?”
You pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside.
“Yeah?” He kisses your neck and lifts your shirt. “Are you okay?”
You nod and help him get it off.
“Oh,” he laughs and touches the spot directly below your sternum. “Tattoo.”
He looks over you slowly, a little shyly, before placing a kiss on your collarbone. You run a hand across the back of his neck. The other slides down his stomach until it reaches the band of his sweatpants.
Your heart beats wildly in your throat as your hand disappears. Fingers wrap around him and feel every inch. He whimpers softly into your neck. The hand buried in his hair moves down and kneads hard into his shoulder as your fingers stroke him.
Seungmin’s face is still in your neck, breathing hard. Eventually he takes a hand and maneuvers it to pull at his sweatpants. You let go to help slide them down enough to free him.
He moans, a little apprehensively, when you touch him again. You know you have to take it easy; he’s obviously very sensitive and you want this to last as long as possible for him.
“I like hearing you, don’t be shy.”
He tries to hold back an embarrassed laugh, but he does a bad job of it.
“Are you comfortable in this position? I could…do this with you on your back.”
He nods, but you don’t know which part he’s nodding to.
“Lie down.”
You let go of him until he’s on his back and relaxing. His face is still flushed and his breathing is a little shaky, but his eyes are almost closed. He seems relaxed enough. You kiss him and wrap your hand around him again.
His eyes open fully when you begin to stroke him again. His lips part and you slide your tongue against his.
The moans coming from him become a little louder. His hand lightly grips and slides down you arm.
“I didn’t really prepare for this. It could be better…if we had lube.”
“It feels good.” He whispers and smiles into your mouth. “Oh, I do have some.”
“Where?” You slow down a bit and let go of his lips. “I can grab it.”
“It’s…” he laughs sleepily, “it’s in my bag on the chair, in the smaller black bag.”
You climb over him and jump off the bed. The bag is is already open and a few things have been pulled out, but you can see a small black bag on the side. “I found it,” you unzip it and look around.
“It’s in the other little bag inside of that.” He laughs again. “Everyone is very nosy.”
You unzip the second bag, and there it is. It’s small, and still looks pretty full. You turn and look at him, “for when you’re lonely and horny on the road.”
He laughs again. “Yes, exactly.”
You warm a small amount in your hand and push the blanket down a little. You’ve touched him, but you haven’t really looked anywhere besides his lips and eyes yet. Now you watch your hand slowly move up and down , and the warmth and slickness makes everything so much better. You can feel how good it is for him. Your heartbeat drops into your stomach and you can feel yourself getting wetter every time he lets himself moan.
But as wet as you think you might be, his size is still more intimidating than you expected.
“You’re very good at this.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so soft.
“Yeah?”
He bites his lips and nods. “It feels so good.”
The room is warm, and the AC hasn't kicked on again. There are a few beads of sweat forming at his temple—you kiss him there and work your way down to his chest, then across his stomach.
The muscles tighten as you move across his hot skin, further and further down. When you slide your tongue across his head, he moans out the breath he’d been holding since you got to his chest. The sound he makes is desperate. He does it again when your lips close around him and your hand grips a little more tightly.
He wasn’t prepared for your mouth. He breathes out your name and it sends a wave of pleasure through you. His hand touches softly across your back and neck.
He says your name again.
“You okay, Minnie?” You kiss his stomach again and look up at him.
He nods and sits up, “can I touch you?”
You let go of him and straddle his stomach. He reaches for you and runs his fingers over the thin fabric. You put your hand over his and push your underwear to the side so he can feel you. There’s another, almost inaudible moan when he does.
Two fingers slip deep inside as you lean in to kiss him, and with your help, he gets the hang of moving inside of you.
You sigh sweetly into his mouth. You’re already much more sensitive than you normally would be. Every little movement he makes is causing just enough friction where you need it. The heel of his palm found your clit and you’re not sure he even realizes.
“I’m gonna come if you keep that up, wait a sec,” you stop his hand and take a deep breath.
“You are?” His voice cracks and he sits up more. His other hand has been digging into your hip, and he finally loosens his grip. There might be a bruise there later.
You grab his face and kiss him hard, then finally maneuver yourself out of your underwear while he’s there to keep you balanced. You reach behind and find his cock, stroke him a few times, and move back.
“Are you good if I…have a seat?” You laugh and wrap your other arm around his shoulder.
“Yes, very good,” he holds onto your waist to help steady you both.
When his head slides across you, he smiles and throws his head back. You do it again before carefully pushing him a little bit inside of you. It doesn’t take much to get another sound out of him.
“There’s a lot more to go,”
He looks drunk, but he smirks, “sorry.”
“For what?”
“For having a lot more to go,” he laughs.
“I’m not complaining.”
You push him deeper, just a little, because you’re not sure what your limit will be in this position.
And deeper. You watch him carefully. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open. You hold him tightly around the neck with both arms before slowly lifting yourself.
It takes a few more times before you find a rhythm , but when you do, you’re sure the sound Seungmin makes reaches the surrounding hotel rooms.
You try to quiet him with your mouth, but it only stifles him a little. You love the noise, but if the others are close enough to hear him, it might makes things awkward.
His hands hold your hips and slowly guide you up and down on his cock. You breath his name into his mouth, and he bites down on your lip.
His voice is a whisper. “Is it okay?”
“Yes,” you whine and push yourself as far down as you can. It stings, just a little, and only for a moment. “You feel so good.”
He leans back to watch himself slide inside of you, and the lusty, satisfied look on his face is making the ride even smoother. “Do I?” He takes your face in his hand and runs his thumb along your lips and cheek.
The room disappears and all that exists is the feeling of him; his breath on your neck, his voice in your ears. His hands grip you tighter, lifting you, and holding you steady when he fills you up again.
He’s not ready for it when you pick up your pace. His fingers dig hard into your hips—you hear him swear under his breath as he attempts to keep himself under control.
“Talk to me, I wanna hear your voice. Do you like it, Minnie?”
Seungmin kisses your neck, his lips graze over your ear, “yes,” he manages through the soft sounds he can’t hold back, “yes, fuck. You feel amazing.”
You pull him away and look at him, arms still wrapped firmly around his neck. One hand slides up and into his hair. “I like you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Under me, lost in it. I thought you were sexy before…but—“
“You think I’m sexy?” His smile is cute and tipsy, voice is airy. If it weren’t for you holding him up, he’d be flat on his back.
All of the sudden, you’re snapped back to reality. Seungmin is there, eyes wide, but the room is back. You’re no longer floating. You lost control and went a little too hard, and it hurt. You make a pained sound and all of your weight is on his shoulders.
“Did I hurt you?” He holds you up and pulls out, and you’re now relieved to be giving your burning thighs a break.
“No, no you didn’t,” You have to kiss him to get rid of the worried look on his face. “That was my fault.”
“We should change positions.”
You lay back on the pillows and grab his waist when he crawls over you. Your legs fall open and rest on either side of him.
“This is a bad angle for you to look at,” he smiles and hides his face in your neck.
You lift his face back up, “is that a joke? You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever had between my legs.”
He whispers a no and hides his face again, but at the same time, his fingertips slide down your thigh as if he’s teasing you.
”Sexiest…” you moan into his ear and wrap your legs around him to bring him closer.
You don’t need to give him any more direction. He explores you briefly with his fingers before guiding himself in the same way you did; slow and gentle.
“I’ll be careful…” he slides in easily in this position, stopping short to make sure he isn’t going too far.
You take his hips and carefully pull him in the rest of the way.
A rough groan jumps out of him when you meet. He stays there and looks at you until you brush the hair from his eyes and speak. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he smiles, looks down your body, then back up to your face. “Just like looking at you.”
“I’m the one with the view,” you kiss him and shift your hips, getting another sound out of him.
Now he’s finding a rhythm, but he’s much more reserved than you were. He seems to know his own limits, and maybe he’s trying not to overdo it and finish too fast.
“Is this okay?” He nuzzles into your ear and whispers before kissing you just below it.
“Yes,” your hands run up his sides and back, his neck, into his hair, “it’s perfect.”
He thrusts into you, very delicately, a few more times before slowing down. Then he stops completely, still inside of you. He’s breathing hard, eyes closed in concentration.
“Seungmin?”
“I just…need a few seconds.”
“Take your time,” you take his hand in yours and help his thumb find your clit.
He moves it in slow circles and watches you for any direction. But he does very well. He has a light touch, and a good pace. His hands are soft and warm. This, combined with him inside of you, looking down at you with eyes drunk with pleasure trying so hard not to come yet, is making everything happen very fast. But you don’t mind.
When he pulls out halfway and pushes back inside, you whimper and the pleased look on his face pushes you over the edge. He smiles and starts fucking you again, and he doesn't let up—you feel it coming. You moan much louder than you intend. He loves hearing it.
Your back arches up and your legs squeeze around him. It lasts a long time, and he doesn’t stop—just carefully touches you in the right spot until your body finally relaxes
“Wow…did you—”
You nod and try to catch your breath.
He doesn’t get through his question because it’s his turn. He comes hard and fast. The condom was completely forgotten up until this point, and he certainly doesn’t attempt to pull out. You don’t even allow yourself to dwell on it—you just enjoy the moment.
Seungmin’s mouth hangs open, and his eyes water. His moan is different this time; it’s more feral. His whole body tightens and moves in slow motion as his orgasm passes through him. He pumps into you until he can't take it anymore..
Then he’s catching his breath and regaining his composure. He comes down to kiss you, tucks an arm under your neck to bring you closer. He slowly pulls out and puts his weight on his knees.
“Come here…”
He listens and slowly lowers himself next to you. His hair is a little damp from sweat, and his face is pink. It’s a good look for him. You pull the sheet up and over both of you, then wipe at his brow with your thumb.
“That was nice,” he’s still catching his breath. His eyes close and you can see his body soften and relax on the pillows. “That was very nice.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“It was better than nice,” his eyes flutter open and he looks at you. Then he reaches out and pulls until there’s no space left between you. “It was much better than I thought it could be.”
“Wow,” you say into his neck. “That’s quite a compliment.”
“But I’m sorry, it’s probably not great that we didn’t use protection.”
“No, but I’ll take care of it in the morning.”
Someone’s phone buzzes.
“I think that was me,” Seungmin says and reaches behind him. His phone got lost somewhere underneath the blankets. As soon as he glances at the screen, he tosses it behind him again. “Are you going to stay the night?” He asks, arms tight around you again.
“I should get home before my mom starts to worry.”
He nods and tries to hide a pout.
“But you’re leaving in the morning, right?
“I think so, I’m not sure what time.”
“Would it be alright if I spent the night? So we can say goodbye.”
“Yes, that's a much better plan.”
“Can I use the shower?” You wiggle free of his grasp and look at him, “heat, concert, sex…that’s a lot to sleep in.”
Seungmin laughs and nods, “yes, go take a long hot shower.”
____
When you come back to the room, Seungmin is sitting at the desk writing. You can hear soft music playing from his phone. There are fresh clothes laid out on your side of the bed: the shirt you had on very briefly, and a pair of very comfy looking sweatpants.
“Are these for me?” You ask. He’s already cleaned up and redressed.
He closes his book he’s writing in and spins around in the chair, “yes, I’m sure they won’t fit very well, but they’re comfortable.”
“Thank you.” You drop your towel and pick up the shirt.
Seungmin stares at you as you pull it over your head, “what?” You laugh and grab the sweatpants. They are soft and they look expensive.
“Uhm, sorry…I didn’t see you without your bra before.”
You think he might be blushing.
“Oh!” You grab your chest, “I guess you didn’t. Come here.”
“Hm?” He smirks and walks toward you as you lift the shirt back over your head. “Oh…”
You take his hands and he immediately touches you, running his palms, and then his fingertips, over your nipples. They stiffen from his touch. He sits at the edge of the bed and pulls you closer, keeping one hand on your chest. The other runs down your side and over your ass. He squeezes and kisses the spot where your tattoo is.
This could turn into something very quickly, but right now you want nothing more than to get under the covers with him and sleep. You know he needs it.
“I like this,” he pulls at the hem of your shirt when you slip it back on. “You look cute in my clothes.”
____
It’s nice waking up next to him.
The room is still dark because the curtains are pulled shut, but not completely—little bits of sunlight make it in through the sides. You can see his sleeping face, cheek squashed against the pillow, lips slightly parted. He’s curled up tight in his spot with the blanket only covering his lower half, but one bare knee is far up enough to poke out.
His arm is reaching toward you, palm up and fingers curled. You slide your hand over the sheets and gently touch him. His fingers twitch and then close around yours.
He sighs deeply, then opens his eyes. First he looks at his hand holding onto yours, then his eyes move along your arm and up to where you’re laying on your pillow.
“Good morning,” he squeezes your hand and moves himself closer to you. “Did you sleep well?”
You nod and pull his hand up to your lips. “Did you?”
“Mhm, very well.”
“Did I tell you how amazing you were last night?” You ask and fluff his hair, “I mean…” you hide behind a hand, “I’m still asleep.”
“Well, I don’t know about…amazing.”
“The concert I mean!” you hide your face in the pillow, and Seungmin giggles as he tries to get you to look at him.
“I was okay I think.”
“The concert was…and you. I was focused on you the whole time.” You clarify as much as possible through your grin.
“You focused on Seungmin the whole time?”
“Yeah, the best part.
“And last night…last last night.” He smiles wide.
“Also focused on Seungmin.”
He pushes himself closer until his face disappears into your neck. “Thank you.”
A knock echoes through the room. Three heavy knocks. The voice that comes through is soft. “Seungmin, are you up?”
“Oh, it’s Lee Know. Stay here.”
You stay put and pull the covers up over your shoulders, but you turn to face the door. Seungmin opens the locks and pulls it open a few inches.
“What’s wrong? It’s still early.”
“I know, but I thought you might want to get breakfast,” Lee Know puts a palm on his side of the door and pushes, “can I not come in?”
“Uh, you can but…” Seungmin hesitates. “I’m not alone.” He gives in when Lee Know takes several steps into the room. He won’t be able to hide you for much longer.
“Oh,” he looks to the spot on the bed where you’re under a pile of covers. “Is it the girl, the one who was at the soundcheck?”
“Did IN tell you about her?.”
“No, Chan did. I should go. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to go,” you squeak out. You can just make him out from your spot, and when you pull the covers down from your nose, his whole body comes into view. Then you remember that one of them doesn't speak English very well, and you think it may have been him. You repeat yourself in Korean.
His eyes widen a bit. “Should we all get into bed, then?” He can be sarcastic and dry; you remember Seungmin mentioned that as well.
You sit up and look at him with a smirk on your face. “He’s the boss.” You nod toward Seungmin.
“You’re the boss,” Lee Know looks at Seungmin and winks. “Text me if you want to come.”
Now he turns to you, “nice to meet you,” he smirks and lets himself out.
Seungmin let’s out a long sigh when he’s gone.
“Come back to bed,” you move the blankets from his spot and fluff up his pillow. “Please.”
He listens and crawls back to your side. When he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close, he says, “I was nervous about you meeting him.”
“Lee Know? Why were you nervous?”
“Am…am nervous, I guess.”
“You don’t think he’d like me?”
“The opposite, actually.” He hides his face in your chest and whines.
You oooh into his ear and it makes him giggle. “Does that tickle?” You move his hair and place a kiss there.
“I think you two are very similar.” Seungmin says. “You remind me of him sometimes, especially when we text.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he shakes his head, still shoved into your chest. “But, I just think you’d like him.”
You scoot yourself down until you’re face to face with him, but he still doesn’t lift his gaze. “Hey, look at me.”
He doesn't.
"Minnie?"
This time he listens, but he also gives you his best puppy eyes.
“You think I’ll get to know him and like him more than I like you?”
Seungmin nods.
“And that he’ll steal me away from you?”
He nods again, then stops and shakes his head, "You're not really mine to be stolen away..." he scrunches his face up in thought, wondering if his English made any sense.
“Well, I’m a little flattered you’d think someone else would like me that much. I’m much more flattered you don’t wanna have me stolen away.”
He rubs his eyes and sits himself up on the bed. “I’m sorry, I know we already talked about this.”
“We can talk about it again if you want to.”
He shakes his head and gets back under the covers. His hands find you and start to paw—at your side, your hip. He slides one down your outer thigh, and slowly back up. Then he starts to talk anyway. “He also knows Choonhee very well.”
“Okay, I think I'm understanding. I could have possibly been set up with Lee Know instead of Seungmin?”
You can hear his dramatic whine from underneath the covers. “It is very possible.”
“But I was set up with you for a reason. And you’re the first person I went on a date with since I left home, so I got very lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Yeah, lucky. Good dates are hard to find.”
Seungmin pokes his head out from the covers and smiles at you. “I’m glad I was a good date.”
"You were a perfect date."
"You should call me Minnie more." He says it's softly, but his hands are in a dangerous spot. "All the time. I like it.
"You were a perfect date, Minnie."
373 notes · View notes
moralesmilesanhour · 8 months
Text
if you believe in me - 01
summary: You and Miles decide to make it official. Kind of. wc: 763 warnings: none a/n: I love setting my characters up for failure <3
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Miles hadn't texted you at all since the kiss, but not for lack of trying.
He would begin to type out a message:
"hi".
No, too empty. Perhaps a bit creepy. 
Backspace.
"hey :)"
Would you expect him to use smiley faces? No, it felt too different to how he spoke in real life. Backspace.
Maybe he should rip a page out of his classmates' playbook. It always seemed to work for them when he peered over at their screens.
"wyd?"
He frowned at his phone in bewilderment. Why would he ask that all of a sudden with no context? 
Backspace. 
"Hey, Y/N! Just checking in to see how you're doing."
Miles mentally cursed himself when he realized how much the text sounded like an email.
He flopped down onto his bed in defeat, and checked his digital alarm clock. 7:30 pm. He had been sitting there for an entire half hour and could hardly get a greeting out, probably leaving you to wonder why the boy who had literally kissed you last week couldn’t be bothered to send a text. 
Miles knew that today would be special when his phone alarm actually woke him up - and from a dreamless sleep, at that. Normally the sun would practically blind him after the curtains were thrown open by his mother, yelling frantically about how he was going to be late in half an hour. The sky was miraculously just turning a periwinkle blue outside, and the possibility of actually getting breakfast seemed within reach for once.
Miles squinted to read the menu above him. Ordering a spicy beef patty before 8 in the morning sounded like a poor dietary decision, so he went with a bacon egg and cheese sandwich like everyone else. As soon as he backed up from the counter, he made the mistake of glancing to his right at the fridge containing drinks on the other side of the bodega, and his stomach dropped.
Your jacket was instantly recognizable, even from a mile away.
Miles threw on his hoodie and shuffled over to the aisle behind him, where he pretended to be preoccupied with a container of instant coffee while trying to keep his face covered. When he saw movement in his periphery, he ducked his head and inched his way towards the freezer that contained his prized can of Arizona tea. He was about to reach for the handle, just inches away from success, when your voice stopped him:
“Morales?!? Where the hell have you been?”
Fuck.
“Hey,” Miles gave you a tight smile as he turned slowly to face you. “How…how are you?”
“I’m good,” you nodded, before lightly smacking him in the arm. “Haven’t heard from you in a minute, though. Why I ain’t catch you in class?”
The boy shrugged. “I dunno. Still in the same seat every day. Maybe you just missed me.”
As he said this, Miles recalled seeing you in the cafeteria while making his way upstairs  the other day and ducking behind a trash can before your eyes could meet. You having gone back to your regular seat in AP Calc made avoidance even easier; he could simply time when he went over to his seat, a small crowd of students providing ample cover.
“Chopped cheese!” a man called out from the front, interrupting his thoughts.
“That’s me,” you said with a grin. 
“”Bacon egg and cheese!”
“And that’s me,” Miles replied as he spun around to retrieve his order, making sure to leave room for you to pass behind him after grabbing your sandwich.
Once outside, he realized that you were staring at him. Not just in passing, but expectantly. Was he meant to do something?
“What?” he asked, eyebrow raised.
“You like me, right?”
“I-um…yeah,” Miles’ eyes darted away from your face. “I don’t think I’d kiss anybody I didn’t like.”
“Don’t get smart with me, you didn’t text me at all afterwards. I was starting to get the wrong impression!”
He snorted, “Well, now you’ve got the right one.”
“Sooo…” you tilted your head. “Does that mean we’re like, a thing now?”
He tensed at the suggestion. ‘A thing’. You’d think it was obvious what that meant, but what did it really mean in tenth grade? Sit at home and kiss a lot? 
But your smile began to falter the longer he took, and the sight stung him.
“I guess we are,” Miles finally replied. He looked down. “What are you doing?”
“Holding your hand, duh!”
He let you intertwine your fingers with his, tentatively squeezing them in return.
437 notes · View notes
poppy-in-the-woods · 1 month
Text
Sneak Peek
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Plot: Inspired by this post. Set during the lockdown, Noah's been ignoring you, and you're gonna make him pay.
Pairing: Noah x Female Reader
Word Count: 1534
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Tags: smut, teasing, sexting, oral (male receiving), double penetration, anal sex, somewhat public sex/exhibitionism.
Author's note: Some of you said you wanted a story about that idea, and before I knew what was happening, my fingers were furiously typing, and this is the result. Hope you enjoy it!
2020, the year the world came to a halt. You and your boyfriend, Noah, were trapped inside your shared apartment, and it was beginning to get kind of boring. There’s only so much stuff you can do inside before it gets repetitive. Even sex had started to get kind of predictable and uninteresting.
Lately, he had taken to streaming on Twitch, so that night, while he was streaming, you were on the living room, browsing the web on your laptop, desperately searching for a way to spice up your bedroom life. Then you found an article that seemed helpful and elaborated a plan.
Step one: buying some new risqué lingerie.
Step two: acquiring a new toy.
Step three: wait until they arrive and put on a show for him while he’s streaming.
Step four: success?
You managed to keep the packages a secret from him after they arrived, even when you had to thoroughly clean and disinfect the items, and wait a week after that so you could use them.
That evening he wasn’t looking at you. He hadn’t been looking at you for a while now, but you were going to make sure he’d look.
Noah had been streaming for half and hour now when he got the first text from you. Glancing at the screen he saw what you had written:
Babe [19:40]: I’m horny, come here.
He trailed off what he was saying while typing a response.
You [19:41]: I can’t, I’m streaming.
You didn’t stop at that, though, and he had to pause while going back and forth with you for a couple more messages.
Babe [19:43]: ☹ Pretty please? ☹
You [19:43]: I can’t right now.
Babe [19:45]: Your loss then.
He didn’t receive another message for ten minutes. The next one was a picture of your cleavage in a sexy red bra he was sure he hadn’t seen before. He smiled and pressed his lips together, but didn’t respond. He continued the stream as if nothing happened, though the picture was still on the back of his mind, like a splinter.
“No reply, bitch? Then it’s game on”, you said to yourself.
You snapped a few pictures in quick succession: a full body shot that showed your new lingerie set, one without the bra and completely nude.
You sent them, but he didn’t respond, and he didn’t even open the last message. Time to bring out the big guns.
Noah shifted uncomfortably on his chair. The increasingly sexy pictures you were sending were starting to make concentrating on the conversation pretty difficult. He didn’t open the last message, imagining what you would send next. He understood himself well enough to know that if he opened it, he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, and he couldn’t leave his friends hanging now that the Mario Kart game was on, could he? No, sir, he was a man of his word and he was committed to finish.
But when his phone started buzzing insistently, he lost on purpose to look at it.
The nude picture wasn’t the worst (or was it the best?) you had for him in store.
Babe [20:23]: Wanna see my new boyfriend? Since you don’t pay any attention to me anymore, I had to get him.
The next message was a picture of a pretty realistic dildo, with a water bottle next to it, just for scale. Noah was a big guy, but that thing seemed bigger.
Babe [20:25]: How shall I name him? Noah II?
Next picture was the dildo, nested between your breasts, your tongue darting out to lick the tip.
He covered his mouth, stifling the unholy sound that was threatening to come out of his lips, shifting again on his chair. You surely had caught his attention, and he was starting to get hard. A new subscription popped in, distracting him. He lifted his eyes from the phone to look at it. The robotic voice read it before he could stop it:
UnsatisfiedGirlfriend06: Look at your phone, you coward.
And then, right after, a donation of ten dollars:
UnsatisfiedGirlfriend06: I dare you to ignore that. I double dare you. Bitch.
He looked at his phone. A new message had arrived. It was a video this time. No sound, just a close-up of your glistening pussy being penetrated by the dildo, going in and out, in and out, your fingers caressing your clit. Noah’s cock twitched in his pants, fully hard now. A new message popped in:
Babe [20:33]: Think you would be able to fill another hole? Or should I get another replacement for you?
He furiously typed a reply. If you wanted to play, he was going to play.
Your phone dinged.
Prettyface [20:35]: Replacement? Ha! You wish. Come here right now, and don’t forget to bring your new friend with you.
You looked at your laptop, with Twitch open on his streaming. It was still going on.
You [20:36]: But you’re still on streaming.
Prettyface [20:37]: Who’s the coward now?
You bit your lip hesitantly, looking at your laptop again. The camera showed that the door was not inside the frame, you just had to be sneaky and nobody would know you were there.
Noah didn’t turn around when he felt the door opening, but he backed his chair up a bit, opening some space under the desk. You crawled up to him, getting in that space. He pretended to drop his phone.
“Just a second, guys”, he said. Bending over, he put his face mere inches to yours. “You’ve been a very naughty girl”, he whispered. “To make up for it, you’re gonna suck me off while riding your new toy. And don’t you dare touch yourself or make a sound. Understood?” You eagerly nodded. “Good.”
He straightened himself, phone in hand, and left in on the desk. He lowered the seat and shifted once more, facilitating you pulling his pants and underwear down. His cock was already leaking some pre-cum, angry that it had been teased for so long.
You positioned yourself, guiding the toy back in your cunt, and once it was fully inside you, you took your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth, watching intently at how he reacted. Noah pressed his lips together, muffling a moan.
You kept sucking him, bouncing on the toy, using a hand to stimulate the rest of his shaft, and the other on his thigh to steady yourself. Thank god for microphones that filtered the unwanted noise, because even you were being quiet, there were still some sounds you couldn’t avoid producing, like the wet sound of your mouth over him, or the faint slaps every time you snapped your hips.
He abruptly closed the stream when he was about to cum. One of his hands flew to your head, keeping you in place while he came down your throat with a loud moan he was unable to suppress.
“Happy now?” he asked, still panting.
“Not yet. This was only a sneak peek”, you said, smiling. “I also bought a harness”, you informed him.
“What?” he said, confused.
“For Noah II. You always say you wished you had another cock to fuck my ass at the same time. Now you have it”, you explained.
He reopened the stream, acting like his Internet connection failed. He apologized to his friends, but said he was tired and was going to leave it there for the day.
He took your hand, helping you up and led you to the bedroom, where he proceeded to fuck you nice and hard doggy style, just like you wanted. Having him filling you up like that, in two holes at the same time, was a weird, albeit exciting, new feeling. Not so long after, your orgasm hit you harder than a demolition ball, leaving you exhausted. Noah still thrust a bit more, until he reached the climax too. You collapsed on the bed as soon as he was out of you.
“Okay, Noah II can stay”, he said, his breathing still shallow, his chest still rising rapidly, while lying next to you. “But don’t you ever dare to pull a stunt like that on me again.”
“Don’t ignore me for days at a time, and I won’t feel the need to”, you pointed out.
“Yeah, you’re right. This is pretty much my fault. I am sorry, babe, but I see you now”, he promised you.
“You better see me after what we just did”, you joked. You could almost still feel him inside you, like the ghost of a sensation.
“What about we shower, we clean everything, put on new sheets and go to bed early?” he suggested. “I want us to cuddle for a bit before sleeping.”
“Deal.”
“By the way, you looked so beautiful while I was fucking you, but next time I want to see your face, ok? The dildo goes in your ass, that way I can be on top” he whispered into your ear, once you were under the sheets again and his arm was around your rib cage, hand possessively grabbing one of your boobs.
“Missionary+!” you joked. “Fine by me, you know I love to see your pretty face while you come.”
“Same, babe, same.”
222 notes · View notes
writingsfromhome · 1 month
Text
Dos and Don’ts II
A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
—————————————————
It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.
I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.
And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.
My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.
“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”
“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.
“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”
“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”
“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”
“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.
I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.
Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.
Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.
“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.
“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”
“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”
I smile and go back to work.
“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”
Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.
“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.
“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”
“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”
“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”
“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”
“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”
“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”
“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”
I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.
I grab my bag and head to the elevator.
“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.
Asshole, I think.
***
God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.
That is until he starts asking me about Harry.
“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”
“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”
“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.
“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.
“What? What’s that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.
“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”
“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”
“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”
“How long?” I ask, curious.
“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”
“Wow. That’s a long time.”
“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”
I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”
“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”
I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”
“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”
“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”
“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”
I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.
“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”
“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”
I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.
“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”
“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.
“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”
“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”
“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.
I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.
“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.
“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”
“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”
“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.
The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.
I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.
“You alright? Let’s keep going.”
I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.
“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”
“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.
“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.
“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”
I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.
All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?
I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.
I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.
***
It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.
Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.
“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.
He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.
And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.
Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.
“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”
“Yep, for you.”
“Not for you?”
“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.
“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”
“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”
“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”
I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”
“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”
“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”
He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”
Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.
***
“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.
This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.
Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.
I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.
The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.
“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”
I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”
He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”
“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”
“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”
“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”
With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.
“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”
“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.
The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.
I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.
Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.
“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.
“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.
“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”
“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.
“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.
“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.
“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”
“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.
“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.
“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.
On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.
“Gray-“
“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.
“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”
“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”
“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.
***
We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.
“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.
“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”
“I kind of saw it coming-“
“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”
“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.
“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”
“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”
“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.
I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.
As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.
“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.
I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.
“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.
“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.
“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”
“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”
“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“
“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“
“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”
“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.
“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”
“You don’t get it-“
“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”
His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.
“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.
I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-
My phone vibrates. Jeff.
“H-hi?” I answer.
“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“
“My phone was off-“
“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“
“I’m not working today-“
“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”
I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.
“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”
“Riley quit.”
“What?! When?”
“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”
“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.
“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”
I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.
Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.
“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”
“Get him home? He’s in another country!”
“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”
“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“
“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”
“His publicis-“
“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”
I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.
“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.
“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”
“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”
“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”
I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
***
“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.
It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.
Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.
What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.
I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.
I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.
I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.
“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.
“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.
“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.
“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”
“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“
“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”
Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.
“Mr. Styles we-“
“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.
He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-
“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”
“I want to-“
“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”
“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“
“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”
“I don’t need a chill pill.”
Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.
I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.
“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”
He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-
“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.
What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.
My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…
“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”
It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.
I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”
“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.
I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.
I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.
“S’cold,” he complains.
“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”
He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.
“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”
“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.
I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.
“I was alone,” he mumbles.
“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.
“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”
“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.
Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.
I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.
I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.
I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.
I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.
***
Still no text from Gray the next morning.
Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.
Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.
“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.
“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.
“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”
“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.
“Yeah…what?”
“Riley quit.”
“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”
“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”
“You sound like my publicist.”
“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”
“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”
I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.
“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”
“Jeff called me.”
“Jeff’s on holiday.”
“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”
He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.
“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“
“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“
“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”
Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.
“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”
Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.
“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”
I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.
“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”
“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.
“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”
He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?
I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.
I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.
But Grayson knows its me.
I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.
He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.
It would blow over for Harry but not for me.
I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.
I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.
***
“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”
I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-
“Hello hello?”
I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.
I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.
“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”
One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.
“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.
“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”
“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”
“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“
“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”
I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”
“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”
“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.
“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”
He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.
***
The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.
While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.
Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,
“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”
I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.
“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”
I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.
Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.
“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”
Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.
“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.
“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.
“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”
“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”
His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”
“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”
Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”
His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”
I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”
“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“
“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”
I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.
I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.
Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?
Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.
By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.
***
We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.
“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.
“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”
Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.
I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.
“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.
“Why?” I ask suspiciously.
“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”
I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.
“Hey-“
“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”
His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.
“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.
“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”
“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”
I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.
“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”
“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”
I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.
He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.
He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.
We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.
“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.
“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…
“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”
My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.
“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.
I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.
“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.
***
Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.
Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.
With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.
I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.
So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.
“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.
“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”
He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”
I’m suddenly excited about going to work.
Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.
The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.
“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”
“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”
“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.
Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.
“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!
“Y/N,” Harry says.
“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?
Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.
“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“
My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.
“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.
“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“
“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”
Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.
“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.
I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.
“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.
“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.
“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”
I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.
“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“
“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?
Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.
***
Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.
“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.
Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.
But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.
“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”
“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.
Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.
“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”
“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”
“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“
“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.
I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.
I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.
“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.
“Yes. Right. Well…”
“Y/N,” he warns.
“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”
I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.
“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”
We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.
When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.
“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”
Oh my god. Harry remembered.
Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?
I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!
Where was Grayson.
I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.
My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!
“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”
“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”
“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”
“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”
“It’s supposed to be romantic.”
I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.
“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”
“Yeah?” He grins.
“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”
A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.
“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”
A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.
Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.
“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”
Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.
I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.
“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”
I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”
“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”
“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”
“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”
Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”
“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.
As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.
Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.
I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.
I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.
“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.
“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.
“Air? In the smallest room here?”
“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”
“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”
“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”
Ugh. He knew me too well.
“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.
“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”
“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”
“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.
“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”
His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.
“What?” I ask his back.
“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”
Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.
“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”
Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.
“What?” He’s taken aback.
“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”
His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.
“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.
“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”
The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?
“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”
“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.
“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“
“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.
“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“
“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.
“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“
“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”
“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”
I guess I wasn’t holding back.
Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-
“You’re right.”
My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.
“I am?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“
“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.
“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”
I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.
“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.
We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.
“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.
“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.
“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.
“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.
My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.
“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.
“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.
“Y/n? Where were you?”
“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”
“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”
“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”
“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.
I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.
I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.
“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.
I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.
Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.
My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.
I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.
“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“
“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”
Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.
What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?
I was an absolute idiot.
“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.
“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.
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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld
I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx
162 notes · View notes
bruh-changbin · 1 year
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sweet tooth
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pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader
genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)
warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything
word count: 6.7k
a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA
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waiting. 
the most painful game one can be subjected to.
seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value. 
surely his coffee’s gone cold by now. 
the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd. 
he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-
jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!
he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:
[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.
[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.
[6:49 pm] jay: hello?
whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.
and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.
maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.
the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!
but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart. 
he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-
“would you like a top up, sir?”
a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you. 
it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you. 
your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!
the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.
he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!
“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand. 
“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”
god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he’s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess. 
“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”
you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image. 
“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”
he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.
but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.
it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.
“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.
“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.
his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss. 
either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind. 
with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.
he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.
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covet. desire. yearn for. crave.
all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.
unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success. 
albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage. 
he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.
the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!
while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade. 
things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay. 
alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started. 
he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up. 
“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”
hold up, how’d you learn his name? 
his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest. 
“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.
“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”
as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp. 
“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”
you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”
at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.
“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own. 
while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts. 
soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving. 
“is your business partner coming today?”
…what?
“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”
for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit. 
a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”
his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.
before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile. 
ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.
when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.
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over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.
he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words. 
he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows. 
nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven. 
sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.
he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…
god you would sound so perfect.
his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen. 
you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use. 
down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.
today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone. 
it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made. 
he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.
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when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.
when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.
only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:
my shift is done at 10:00 pm.
wait for me? :)
y/n
and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering. 
in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.
embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes. 
he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.
the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).
with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.
“hi.”
“hi.”
“i like your car.”
“oh, you do?”
“yep. it suits you.”
“really?”
you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?
“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.
“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”
“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind. 
the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude. 
soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky. 
“wow jay, way to be subtle.”
“what!!?”
“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”
fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!
“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”
“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”
you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.
“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”
silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).
“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”
he chokes on his saliva. 
“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”
yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite. 
“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”
in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks. 
“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”
“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks. 
from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself. 
when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat. 
his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.
 “i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks. 
“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”
“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”
with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.
jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.
“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand. 
he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present. 
fuck me.
not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you. 
your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.
you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth. 
when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean. 
only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines. 
once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.
not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping. 
he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper. 
it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.
this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”
your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.
with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth. 
your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe. 
his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air. 
he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick. 
from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up. 
you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”
he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. 
once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does. 
his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you. 
“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong. 
jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is. 
his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere. 
“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for. 
the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint. 
he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt. 
seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.
with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.
smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured. 
the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup. 
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a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you
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pprodsuga · 2 months
Text
wrong number | sunghoon
thirteen: charlie, linus, and franklin
summary: when a barista of the cafe sunghoon frequents gives him her phone number, he decides to try his luck and texts her. problem is, it seems as though he’s got it all wrong and texts you instead.
notes: ayo written chapter <3 she’s a shortie but that’s okay! btw you will need to read this part first for this chapter to make sense.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
This particular weekend feels silent and tranquil amidst the chaotic week of responsibilities and obligations. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki have promised to let you recharge over the course of the next two days before they bother you again, business as usual. You’ve spent the better part of your evening eating a home cooked meal and cleaning your skin until it’s fresh and moisturized. Today feels like a well-deserved Friday and you don’t imagine it can get any better than this. 
It's relatively quiet tonight, the soft sound of wind rustling through the trees being the only thing keeping you company at such a late hour. In addition, the moon is full and bright, reflecting off of the window pane and it leaves a small sliver of light amongst the darkness of your room. You reckon the stars are shining extra bright tonight.
Sunghoon’s been a fixture in your life for a short while but it feels like you’ve met your twin flame. A fire erupts within your chest when you see his contact name on your display screen. Your cheeks flush and you feel the childish need to prevent anyone from seeing the message no matter how mundane or boring it may be. Still, you revel in the feeling of first crushes and the cliche kind of romance you only see in movies. 
Another text from Sunghoon comes through.
sunghoon <3: don’t sleep on me, pretty girl
sunghoon <3: can i call you?
You throw your phone until it lands with a soft thud on top of your mattress.
It might be embarrassing, the way you gasp at his question. Sending voice notes back and forth is one thing. Neither of you are obligated to be available at the same time and there aren’t awkward pauses like two people trying to think of what to say next. Voice notes are mini conversations where it’s acceptable to jump from topic to topic, straying so far from the original point that you rarely find your way back. Phone calls are new, uncharted territory. 
You briefly think about whether or not you should freshen up until you realize it wouldn’t involve your video camera. Sunghoon knows you're tucked in bed with the blankets by your chin, so he must understand you’re in a dark room and presumably in pajamas (you are).
After deliberating for three and a half minutes on Twitter, you respond. 
you: i would love that 
Your fingers burn as you press send. It feels like a risky text, one that you immediately regret sending. What if Sunghoon doesn’t find you interesting since your conversation isn’t over messages? What if he doesn't like your voice? What if you say something wrong and he decides to never text you again? 
“I, um,” you stutter, not used to the feeling of flirting over the phone. Or, at least you think Sunghoon’s flirting. He wouldn’t say your voice was cute if he meant that to be friendly, right? “W-Wow it’s so different hearing your voice on a phone call.” 
You wear, you ascend when he laughs again. 
“You’re funny, you know that?” You try to think of a response but he beats you to it. “Are you really tucked underneath your blankets?” 
“I would not lie about sleeping underneath very comfortable sheets.” You ruffle the comforter for good measure. “See? Definitely not lying.” 
“I’m trying to imagine your room. I’m thinking of pink sheets and pillows.”
“Wrong,” you chuckle. “Lavender.” 
“Purple, I see.” Sunghoon says this like he’s pretending to contemplate. “Can you guess what mine are?”
“I dunno, something super stereotypical for a guy. Like navy blue.”
He goes quiet. “Wow, I’m actually surprised that you got it right.” 
“There’s something about men and their bond to navy blue bedding, Hoonie. What can I say?” 
That boyish laugh of his will be the death of you. “I guess you’re right. Now that I think about it, there’s only one person in my apartment who doesn’t have navy sheets.” 
“Unlike you, they’re original.” You hope the joke lands through your voice but a small part in the back of your brain tells you that you might’ve gone too far.
“I guess all men really are the same,” he sighs dramatically. 
“Do you think it’s a little weird that we’ve been talking for a month and we’ve never met before?” you ask.
“Honestly? Not really. It was at first, considering you’re not the person who originally gave me their phone number.”
You nod despite the fact that he can’t see you do it. “It’s weird that the barista would give you a fake number even though she wanted to give it to you.” 
Perhaps it’s your affinity to believe the good in people or your own naivety, but you’d love to believe that meeting Sunghoon the way you did was pure fate. Your friends know you question where you stand in life and if you’ll ever experience those wondrous ‘firsts’ when it comes to dating and relationships, since it seems as if the people in your life have been. While you’re happy for them, it makes conversations awkward when you have nothing to contribute. 
“I’m glad I ended up texting you, if I’m being honest,” he admits from the other side of the phone. “I don’t…date, really. I’m not the type of person to hook up with random girls all the time either, or anything. But after what my ex did, it left a weird taste in my mouth.
“I can understand that. Even though that happened years ago, it’s still a traumatic thing to experience.”
“My roommates tell me that all the time. It’s just hard, you know? I felt weird telling you about it considering one shouldn’t talk about their exes to people they’re talking to.”
Sunghoon confirming the fact that you two are indeed in the talking stage makes your heart flutter. 
“I understand that too,” you agree. “But it’s important to know, I think. As long as you’re willing to share? I mean, asking people what their favorite color is or their go-to ramen order is so overrated. I want to know the nitty gritty.”
“Including the fact that I have navy blue bedding?” he jokes. 
“Exactly that,” you joke back. “I don’t have many stories to tell. No evil exes to fight on this end.” 
“Well there’s one evil ex and one short-lived relationship, but I hardly think a middle school romance counts for anything.” 
“No, I don’t think it does.”
With the initial awkwardness of a first phone call out of the way, the conversation between you and Sunghoon flows like a natural waterstream. It seems as though every topic is on the table, as you both start discussing your everyday habits to what your respective families are like back at home. You tell him about your parents and he tells you about his sister. Sunghoon opens up about living with four other guys and you’re sure he can hear your shock when he tells you the things he puts up with. It’s moments like this where you’re grateful to live alone, even if three of your closest friends stop by more often than not. 
Talking to Sunghoon makes you feel like you’re completely and utterly seen. You understand, now, why people talk about the difference between being acknowledged by your friends and having someone see you for who you are as they get to know you. Sunghoon doesn’t have any precursor as to who you are because the person he’s getting to know is the person you present to him without any past judgment or assumptions. It feels nice.
“You hang out with some of the same people every week, right?” Sunghoon asks. It warms your heart to know he pays attention. “The ones who like shrimp chips.”
“That’s Charlie,” you lie. Jungwon’s advice of omitting your names in favor of replacing them with the characters in the Peanuts comics asserts itself and the name ‘Charlie’ comes out faster than you intended. “Yeah, he loves those. I buy extra for him because he keeps finishing mine.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” 
“Well, he pays for other things for me too sometimes. I see it as a bargain.”
“And your other friends?” 
The guilt inside of you has dropped to your stomach. 
“There’s Franklin. He’s a sweetheart, really. Very sassy too but I think he only gets like that when you get to know him. When we first met, he was so quiet and I thought he didn’t like me at first.” 
“Can’t imagine someone not liking you.” 
You’re quiet for a moment. “Now you’re just making me blush.” 
“I’d like to see how many times I can do that on this phone call.” You pay no mind to the phone and shove your face into your pillows to let out a short-lived squeal, hoping that the sound muffles your noise. Did you put your phone on mute? 
You can hear Sunghoon chuckling as you pick your phone back up. “What about your other friend?” 
“Oh, that’s Linus.” The lie comes out easier and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s just complimented you or if it’s because you’ve been lying this entire time. “He’s a real sweetheart. He comes off as very boyish, you know? Hard and strong, that kind of thing. I’ve known him since we were kids and he’s my longest friend. He’s the type of person I can really depend on and someone I trust with my whole heart, even if he is a little shit sometimes.” 
“I can relate. One of my best friends, Jake, who also happens to be my roommate, is like that too. He definitely looks like the kind of guy who sleeps around. You know the type; cocky smile who looks like he works out a ton. But he’s a real sweetheart and can crack a joke like it’s nothing. Girls always assume he’s got so many people under his belt but the poor guy is a hopeless romantic.” 
“That’s so sweet,” you say with a frown. “I hope he’s able to find someone really soon.”
“You and I both,” Sunghoon sighs. “I cannot handle his dumbass comments about us every time I tell him about you.”
“Let him be,” you chide. “If he wants to say we’re fated, let him.” 
Sunghoon is silent on the other line. 
“You’re so,” Sunghoon begins to say before cutting himself off to chuckle. “You’re just so bold. I have never met anyone so straightforward before. You’re flirting with me and aren’t shy to do it.” 
“Me?” you feign innocence, a giggle threatening to spill from your lips. “Flirting? I don’t flirt. I don’t know how to flirt. Maybe you should teach me some time.” 
You swear that you can hear a small grunt from the other end of the line and mentally pat yourself on the back for your ingenious thinking.  
“Enough,” says Sunghoon. “You’re trouble.” 
“Don’t you have any guilty pleasures?”
On the opposite end of the phone line, that one question alone makes Sunghoon bite his lip and shut his eyes. He’s glad you aren’t there to witness him do it. 
“Cute isn’t the word I’d use for you right now,” he finally says. 
The rest of the night is spent on the phone with Sunghoon, so much so that you forget about your white lie and the guilt that sits in the back of your mind. It feels too good to be seen by somebody who doesn’t hold any expectations over your head. You’re just you, the person who hides her romantic tendencies by cracking jokes about how love isn’t all it’s supposed to be. But Sunghoon allows you to tear that down and discover what having a crush might just feel like.
Instead, you fall asleep on the phone and are pleasantly surprised to wake up and find that he didn’t end the phone call while you were sleeping. 
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months
Note
Request: video gamer Steve who is very very private & constantly has competitions with his friends/followers. But one day he does & q&a and someone asks him about his ring/necklace (or something that is noticeable) & he talks about his partner. & Eddie who is a well known musician who talks about his partner Steve. And somehow their fans put it together that Steddie are together. Then they do a really cute q&a on Steve's channel all about their relationship & its really cute
MY LOVE!!! Honestly, if Liam didn't watch so many gamers on YouTube, I would be so clueless. I never got into video games (because I'm so so bad at them you guys it is actually embarrassing) and I never really watched streamers on YouTube or anything. But I know that some of them have like a cult following and so I am picturing Steve to be one of those here. Please don't ask what games he would play because this is a choose your own adventure part of the story. - Mickala ❤️
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Everyone made fun of Steve for how much he talked with his hands. Even on camera, his hands were constantly in the frame, moving and emphasizing his passion for whatever game he was playing for that stream.
He should have realized that wearing a ring on his usually bare hands would have given him away.
It was his first livestream competition since Eddie proposed on their trip to the Maldives.
He was still a little high off of, well, everything, and he wasn’t thinking clearly.
He ignored the first question that popped up.
who got you that ring?
He shared some basic personal stuff with his fans and followers, but he kept most things private, especially his relationship.
But then questions kept coming in.
R U ENGAGED???
usually the girl wears the ring right
If you’re taken I might have to unsubscribe
The last one made him pause.
It’s not like he was an idiot, he knew that there would always be a handful of people who followed him because he was attractive. He didn’t mind, especially because some of them would message him and explain that they ended up getting into games because of him.
“Okay, wait. Sorry guys. Um. I wanna address something before we start the actual stream.” He held his hand up, looking over at the ring Eddie proposed with. “I share a lot with you guys. I came out about a year ago during a stream as bisexual, and it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock, but it caused a bit of a…thing.” He grimaced. “And I guess most of the reason that I came out then was because my boyfriend had come out as well, and it felt like something we could do together without actually doing it together. Most of you know I was just gone for a week on a much needed vacation. I was with my boyfriend, and he proposed while we were there. I said yes because he is the only person I’ve ever wanted to spend my life with.”
Steve put his hand down, sighing.
“I understand if that makes some of you unfollow me, but I do hope you look at yourself and try to come to terms with why that is what makes you unfollow someone you enjoy watching. Anyways, the ring is beautiful, and it's a simpler version of one he wears every day, so it means even more.”
He felt relieved, but also a little stressed, and knew he’d be calling Eddie as soon as this was over to talk to him about everything.
“Let’s get gaming!” He gave his best smile to the camera.
—-------------------------------------
“Yeah, we had a nice week off together, alone, and I finally got to propose. I don’t think we left the bed for 24 hours after that,” Eddie laughed.
The interviewer laughed too, used to Eddie’s jokes and blunt answers.
“I’m glad you got to spend some time just the two of you. This has been a busy world tour for you and Corroded Coffin and you’re only halfway through!” The interviewer, Hannah, stated. She smiled at him when he nodded. “Anything new planned for the second half of the tour?”
“We can’t give out secrets, Hannah, you know that,” Eddie smirked. “But Gareth did say I should tell you about one thing.”
Gareth definitely had a crush on Hannah and had pouted endlessly about being scheduled for a different interview at the same time as Eddie’s interview with her.
“Oh?” she leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
She maybe had a crush on him, too.
“He actually wrote a song that’ll be on our next album. He doesn’t usually get bit with the writing bug, but someone’s inspired him,” he winked at her, smiling at her blush. “Anyway, it’s been added to the setlist for the second leg of the tour and we’re all really excited for everyone to hear it.”
Eddie felt his phone vibrating in his pocket multiple times. All the guys knew he was in an interview and couldn’t answer a call, so who the hell was calling him?
It was easy enough to ignore through Hannah’s next question, until it started again.
He reached in his pocket and checked to see who it was, eyes going wide when he saw ‘Stevie’ with a picture of them on their vacation lighting up his screen.
Steve never called twice in a row unless it was an emergency. He knew if Eddie didn’t answer, he was truly busy.
He felt his heart racing as he looked back up at Hannah, who instantly seemed to catch on to something happening.
“We’re going to a commercial break, but when we’re back, Eddie’s gonna share a few hints about the next album!” Hannah said, immediately shutting the mics off and gesturing for him to get up.
Eddie took off his headphones and stood, walking out of the room as he answered the phone.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, I just-”
“Hey, no, it’s not bothering me. I was just in a radio interview with Hannah so we had to cut to commercial break before I could answer. What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned that something terrible had happened.
“Fuck, I forgot that was right now. I’m sorry. Call me back when you get to the bus,” Steve seemed like he was trying to rush off the phone.
“No, Stevie, wait. What’s wrong?” his tone was firm enough to let Steve know he wasn’t going to let this drop.
“Um. I just had a livestream thing. And like, people asked about the ring, so I told them I was engaged and some people just didn’t take it that well and then I went online and some people have apparently put it together that the Steve you talk about is me because of something I mentioned about my vacation and something you posted about the vacation and so I think everyone’s gonna know and I’m sorry,” Steve was panting by the end, speaking a million miles an hour literally taking the breath from him.
“Okay, well, we knew this would probably happen eventually, my love. I’ll just call the guys and we can talk to Chrissy about it if it gets picked up by the media. No reason to panic,” Eddie tried to calm him down while watching through the window to the recording booth where Hannah seemed to be introducing a song to kill more time.
“But I ruined our plan!”
“No, love. People ruined our plan. And it’s okay, anyway. We’ll figure it out.”
“But your fans will be mad that it’s me. I’m just…me!”
“You’re not just anything and any fan of mine who says or thinks that, isn’t a fan,” Eddie sighed. “I love you, and we will figure this out. Whatever we gotta do, okay?”
Steve let out a long breath before responding.
“I love you too. Tell Hannah I said hi?”
“Of course. I love you so much, okay? ‘Til death and beyond.”
Steve let out a small laugh.
“You’re not allowed to use those lyrics in the vows. But I love you so much, too.”
“We can discuss that later. I wrote you a very metal love song that I fully intend to use some of in the vows. Okay, bye!”
He hung up before Steve could argue and walked back into the studio, mouthing an apology to Hannah, who just waved it off with a smile.
Everything would be fine.
—-------------------------------------------
“The lighting isn’t ideal, but it’ll be fine,” Steve was pacing, double checking his set up while Eddie watched.
He tried helping, but kept being told not to touch things, so he ended up just sitting on the hotel bed.
Steve had traveled halfway across the country to do this, his stress was at an all-time high, and Eddie didn’t need to get his head bitten off.
“Five minutes,” Steve said, shaking his hands nervously.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Eddie said, waving him over to the bed.
“No, you’ll distract me.”
“Yes, which is exactly what you need for a minute. Come here.”
Steve sighed, but went over to him, dropping onto the bed and resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder.
“What’s got you so worried?”
“Everything.”
Eddie sighed.
“But specifically.”
“I just don’t want you or the guys to lose fans because of me,” Steve was playing with the edges of the hole in Eddie’s jeans absentmindedly.
“Sweet boy, we lose fans because we endorse a certain amp brand over another. We’ll be fine.”
“This is bigger, though. I’m just a nobody who got lucky on YouTube playing some games,” Steve whined.
“And I loved you before that. If they don’t want me to be happy, they aren’t real fans anyway. You’re my future, not whatever woman still thinks she has a shot with my gay ass,” Eddie said.
“But it isn’t just you who suffers.”
“None of us suffer. We lose some homophobic, idiotic fans who shouldn’t ever have claimed to be fans at all. None of us want people like that around.”
Steve’s alarm went off to signal one minute before the livestream started.
He jumped up and pulled Eddie up with him.
They’d already gone over everything together, discussed it with Chrissy and the guys, even Steve’s manager, Robin, about how this would work.
Steve would pretty much act like it was any other livestream, but Eddie would be there for the first five minutes or so so they could do a quick explanation of things.
Eddie would do a phone interview with Hannah in 30 minutes while Steve was gaming, covering a bit more and answering some questions about their relationship.
Then they’d both have a night off to decompress in the hotel before Steve had to fly back home and Eddie had to head to the next tour stop.
Hopefully, the buzz would die down relatively quickly.
Steve did his normal intro, but Eddie’s hand rested on his knee out of sight, squeezing once when he heard his voice start to shake a little while introducing Eddie.
“There’s been some rumors about us, and we just wanna be completely honest about things so that the rumors stop,” Steve continued. “First of all, we’ve been together for almost four years. Way before I got anywhere with YouTube, before Corroded Coffin had even released their first album. And we were friends long before that.”
“Even though I had the biggest crush on him in high school, I didn’t admit I was in love with him until we both moved to Chicago. Wasted years,” Eddie shook his head.
“Second,” Steve smirked, looking over at him for a moment. “The week off in the middle of his tour had been planned for Jeff to go home and be with his family for his wife’s birthday and daughter’s graduation.”
“Anyone who thinks Steve threw a fit about needing a vacation and made the band take a break is just saying so out of spite that we had to move around one of the tour dates to make the week off work. It’s not up to you to come up with a narrative,” Eddie added, brow raised like he was chastising children.
“And finally, most importantly, what either of us choose to share is up to us. We do not owe anyone any explanations. Our relationship is ours. Being public figures already takes away a lot of our autonomy, and this is something neither of us will budge on. We are willing to share our happiness, but we are not willing to let everyone become a part of our life together.”
Sometimes, Steve said things in such a way that Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare at him in awe. He loved him more than anything, and sometimes the only thing he could do was kiss him.
He did so now, not exactly forgetting they were live streaming, just not really caring.
Steve tensed for a second, but then relaxed, cupping his cheek and smiling into the kiss.
Eddie pulled away and looked back at the camera.
“On that note, I’m gonna leave Steve here to his gaming. If you aren’t nice, I’ll ban you from Corroded Coffin shows for life,” he waved before standing and leaving the camera’s view.
Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly as Eddie walked out of the bedroom, blowing kisses back at Steve the entire way.
—-------------------------------------------
After that, Eddie made random appearances on Steve’s live streams, and Steve flew out to a handful of shows to support Eddie.
It’s not that they were hiding before, but they just hadn’t felt like they should have to try to.
Now they didn’t.
Steve even did a Q&A with the band on tour while playing games with them.
They were all pretty terrible at it, complaining most of the time about how D&D was so much easier than this. Eddie didn’t play, but he sat next to Steve and braided his hair while he kicked their asses, asking them all the questions that popped up from people watching.
When he got to one for him, he smiled and kissed the top of Steve’s head.
“This question is for me. How did you know Steve was the one?” The guys all groaned, but they were smiling. “Well, I knew he was the one back in my first senior year. I tripped on the step into the gym and Steve was the only one there. He helped me up and smiled at me, and I was a goner.”
“He’s lying to you all,” Steve said without looking away from the game. “He knew when I made him homemade banana bread. His exact words were, ‘I’m gonna marry you so hard someday, Harrington.’ and then six months later he proposed.”
“Both can be true,” Eddie pouted.
Steve paused the game and turned to him, kissing the tip of his nose.
“Every moment I have with you proves you’re the one for me,” he said before turning back to the game and leaving Eddie silently shocked.
“This is the last time we come on this thing, Steve,” Gareth said.
“Yeah. You broke him,” Jeff agreed.
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kingdumkum · 11 months
Text
WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA
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this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.
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summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)
cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.
dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛
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Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.
It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.
An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.
The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.
You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up. 
It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?
Nothing from Tadashi.
You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.
Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.
But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.
Again.
Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”
“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“
“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?” 
Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”
“Baji.”
The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”
You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”
Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—
“I’m outside.”
Fuck.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”
“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”
Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”
Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”
You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”
Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…
You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.
“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”
Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—
By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.
When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.
You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.
Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms. 
You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you. 
Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”
“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”
“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.
But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.
He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”
Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely. 
“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.
“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”
Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.
You almost do.
Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”
The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.
Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.
That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.
It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.
“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.
“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”
He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?
Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—
“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.
“Asshole.” 
Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.
“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.
He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.
Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours. 
You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm. 
But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.
Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.
You can’t remember when things got so complicated.
When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.
Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.
Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.
So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.
And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.
Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.
Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.
Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”
“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”
He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”
The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—
“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.
He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”
You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’
He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.
If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…
Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.
The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.
“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.
It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.
One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.
So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.
“Did it hurt?”
Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”
It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”
Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”
You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.
But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.
You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.
Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.
You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.
At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.
The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you. 
“What’s… wrong with me?”
Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.
But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.” 
Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—
But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.
You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.
“Fuck you, Keisuke.”
“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”
“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—” 
This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.
“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”
“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“
“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“
“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” 
“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”
“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”
“They don’t deserve you—”
“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”
“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”
The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“
“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”
“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“
“Because they let me stand in the way!”
The world stills. 
You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”
He doesn’t respond. He can’t.
He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…
He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.
He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.
Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.
Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”
You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.
It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.
You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you. 
When your gazes meet, you wait.
“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”
“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”
“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.
You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”
When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.
“I stopped them.”
For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.
“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”
He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?
Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.
“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”
Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”
You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”
Then you lean forward and kiss him.
In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—
Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—
Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.
“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”
A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.
“Say it again.”
It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“
“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”
“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.
“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”
“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”
He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.
You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real. 
For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”
“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.
You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.
“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.
“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”
There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago. 
“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”
He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”
“You’re such an asshole.”
Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.
Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.
You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“
“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”
Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”
Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.
“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”
He doesn’t need more encouragement. 
Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.
“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.” 
Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.
“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.
“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.
You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—
But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.
Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.
You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.
Loudly.
Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.
“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”
“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”
“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes. 
You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“
You gasp when his teeth break skin.
Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.
You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.
“M’sorry…”
A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”
Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—” 
He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.
“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you’re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”
“Ididntmakeit.”
You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).
This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.
Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.
Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.
Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”
“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.
Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”
“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.
“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.
“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”
“I’ve never had sex before.”
You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that? 
The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.
So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?
You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face. 
“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth. 
But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”
He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”
You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”
Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth. 
He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”
The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.
So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”
This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”
Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face. 
“I’d like that.”
He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.
“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”
“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”
You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.
“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.
“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”
“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.
He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.
“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.
“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.
“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“
“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”
“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”
He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”
You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”
Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway. 
“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.” 
You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.
The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold. 
You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.
“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”
“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”
“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”
He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.
“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”
“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”
“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”
Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.
Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.
None so… blatant. So unmistakable.
Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.
“You’re… in love with me?” 
Keisuke blinks.
For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”
You kiss him.
The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.
There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”
Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.
He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.
He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?
“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.
He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist. 
“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”
You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—
The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.
Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”
Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.
Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name. 
“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“
“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”
His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.
It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.
“Kei?”
He doesn’t look up. 
His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”
You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.
You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“
“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”
Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.
Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt. 
Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.
“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?” 
You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you. 
He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”
“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.
There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.
He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.
When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.
Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”
It sends you over the edge.
With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“
“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”
You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.
 The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.
Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.
“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”
A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.
Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.” 
“I love you too, Kei.”
He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.
He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.
“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”
He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.
When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”
Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along. 
The answer comes easily.
“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”
“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”
Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”
“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.
Your face scrunches when he adds a second.
“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.
You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”
He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.
They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.
“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.
Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”
“Then how—“
“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.
You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.” 
It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.
“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”
“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.
“Too much?”
Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”
Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”
If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.
When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”
With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”
You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.
“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.
“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.
He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.
You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.
His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.
“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.
The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.
Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.
Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it. 
A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.
“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“
“You’re big.”
Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”
You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”
Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”
Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.
You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”
It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.
He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.
“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”
You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”
With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”
He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.
“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.
You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?” 
His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.
“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.
“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.
“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.
He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can. 
He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot. 
Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped. 
The world is only real for the two of you.
He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.
He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.
“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.
It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—
“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”
You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.
“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.
Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all. 
You never realized how empty you were.
Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.
“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”
Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.
Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.
“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“
“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”
You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“
“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“
You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.
You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.
You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.
He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.
The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.
Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.
Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you. 
Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.
His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.
“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.
You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”
Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.
You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”
You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”
He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”
“For me?”
He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”
With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”
He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”
“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”
Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.
“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.
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So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!
hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!
581 notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 19 days
Text
I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VI)
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Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.
Word count: 2.5k.
Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.
Warnings on this chapter: some suicide thoughts, very suggestive stuff, nudity, sexual tension barely starting, misogyny coming from you know who lol.
Notes: i was eager to drop this so here it is. hope i can make justice to the slow burn/slow sexual tension. aaaa as always thanks for reading!! ily all!
this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
get yourself in the taglist!
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | | Part VIII
GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!
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Part VI: Don't Lay Your Red Hand On Me
“Where the fuck are we going?” Ben asked, checking the picture outside the windshield.
The sun was already setting down, and there have been hours since you started driving. At least he had been able to see the damn sunset again after being caged for so long.
Despite his questioning look and not trusting you completely, both made it to your car in the middle of the mess of blood and headless corpses around the building, with him naked under the effects of your invisibility powers. Somehow, you still managed to reassure Soldier Boy it was to protect him. In fact, as you guided both out of the place, you were scared of your abilities not working properly to have him covered. The last thing you wanted was the cameras to have a look at him, escaping with your help.
Now, with Soldier Boy dressed in his clothes and you still wiping some of the dry blood from your skin, you drove without a destiny in mind. Just somewhere you could take him far away from Homelander and Vought. He was, in fact, your top priority and needed to be protected, even if you knew you were nothing compared to his strength and abilities, you still had the urgency of him trusting you, to feel like you really cared. And you did care, but for the wrong reasons and those, he didn’t have to know.
“Far away,” you responded, picking up your phone with one hand as you drove through the highway.
“That doesn’t tell me anything,” he insisted, looking at you switching your attention between the device in your hands and the road.
You dialed Grace, ignoring his voice. She didn’t answer immediately. You cursed under your breath and dialed again. No answer anew, just the ring and the automatic voicemail message. Well, fuck. You had to play with what you had.
“Hey, it’s me,” you began the message. “Please call me when you can, I have to inform you of something. It’s urgent, please call me back.”
Ben rolled his eyes, annoyed as fuck for your silence towards his demands. “You’re gonna tell me now what the fuck is going on? You’re a fucking supe and everyone is dead back there! And not ‘cause of me.”
“First, nothing to fear from me. Okay? You’re the one who’d kill me in a blink. Second, I don’t know!” you yelled as a response, clearly irritated. “I don’t know shit! I know we need to run and that’s all. So just shut up and let me drive.”
“Christ on a cross, you women are fucking irritating,” Ben fumed. He saw a cheap motel by the road and he would’ve guessed you were going there because you slowed down and pulled up in the parking lot. He sighed. “Home, shitty home.”
“Got any ideas? Because I’m all ears,” you stopped the engine and got down the car, taking the sports bag with you. The supe rolled his eyes and before he went out, you came right to his half open door. “Stay here, I'll check in.”
Ben shut his eyes, watching you closing the car door with a loud thud, and you left to get a room. He felt the need to storm behind and shout out what he really thought of your stupid ass bossing him around. If it wasn’t because he wasn’t really half the way out of the fucking car, he should have been arguing and insisting for some real answers. But for some reason he stayed back. When you came back after a short time he followed you to a double bed room you’d be using just for the night.
Once you entered, you decided a shower was first thing on the list, and then you had to communicate with Grace as soon as fucking possible. Checking around, you were thankful to find a couple of towels in the bathroom, while Ben settled on his own space, lying down on one of the beds.
He observed you thoroughly as you studied yourself in the dirty mirror hanging on the wall. The disgusting grimace you made told him you were looking for more blood to wipe off. And before he could speak again you turned to see him.
“I'm gonna take a shower,” you announced.
He raised a brow. “Mind some company, sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes as you started to unbutton your blouse, his eyes checking shamelessly the little exposed skin didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Don't even think about it.”
And with that, you just disappeared inside the bathroom. The noise of water running compensated both of you for the silence. He turned on the cheap TV to have some noise for himself too, deciding he’d go for a shower after you. Probably if he was in a different mood would have just tried to get in your pants. Ben was getting so damn stressed out. First you took out his weed, then you announced he would have medication for his fucking stress disorder or some shit, and later, agents and employees of the facility just started to die violently without reason. He thought if any of you would be next while you walked him out.
It was too much to handle right now. He needed something to take it all out. Something, anything, somebody. Just to release it the only way he knew: with sexual pleasure. He didn't understand yet what the fuck was happening. Did you really care about him? You could just have left him there to handle everything by himself and run away. Yet, you took him out of the facility and he, once again, had a glimpse of your courage. Maybe a little. And he started to like that. Suddenly, he heard the shower being turned off and minutes later you came out of the bathroom sooner than he expected, dressed in the same clothing, drying the droplets on your face and wet hair.
“I’m gonna get some dinner, stay here” you announced, taking your phone and the room and car keys. “The door will be locked, don’t do anything stupid.”
Ben scoffed, standing up before making his way to take a shower himself. He faced you directly, just a couple of inches separating both of you. Your gaze challenged him to step closer. “I’m not a fucking animal.”
You hummed, without looking away from his eyes. “Sometimes I doubt you.”
“Locking the fucking door won’t do shit, why you keep doing this?” Ben asked, visible confusion on his features. He really looked tired as hell. Tired of your bullshit.
“It’s not because of you. I perfectly understand that, just wait for me here.”
With that, you turned on your heels and left the room. From the other side, you locked the door. Ben let out a deep breath. He knew it was easy to tear it apart, and again, run after you to have damn answers for once. But instead, he decided to calm himself a little and get rid of his clothes. Inside the shower, he let the warm water take care of the burdens he was carrying, without knowing, on his back. He wondered if he’d been better dead by now, if sleeping in a chamber was a greater choice than this, just running along with you, a woman, who just seemed to fuck him up even more instead of playing real like you had promised. If he knew how to kill himself, probably would’ve done it already. He was getting sick of hiding, of being a fucking experiment, to be under someone’s else’s orders… The worst part of it all is that he never had the right to choose on his own faith. Not even his own death.
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Out of the room, you were a few feet away from the door you left behind when your phone started to ring softly. An unknown number appeared on the screen and cautiously you answered, making your way to the car, getting inside on the co-pilot seat.
“Hello?” a voice you knew too well started to speak after some seconds of silence.
“Grace?”
The woman on the other line breathed out. “Yeah, it’s me. Uhm, couldn’t attend earlier, sorry…”
“It’s okay,” you shook your head, as if she could see you face to face. “We’ve been compromised. My lab assistants, the nurses, scientists, guards… Everyone is dead.”
“Fuck,” Grace hissed. She sounded exhausted. “Where is Soldier Boy?”
“I took him out, checked us in at a motel. Can’t go back to my old place. Not yet.”
“You have the copies of the project, right?”
For a moment you felt she was doubting you, but you answered anyway, surprised she would even ask that. “I do.”
There was a little silence coming from her. You continued. “I don’t think I told you yet, but… Fuck, I received a visit from Homelander a couple of days ago. He crashed into my apartment… He knows.”
Grace cursed under her breath. “Y/N, we’re playing with fire here.”
You swallowed thickly, feeling your heartbeat raising. “What’s going on with you? Something happened back there?”
“Victoria Neuman came, saying she wanted to talk to me. She kinda threatened my life, and I’m on the run… Now I can make the puzzle.”
“You think they might be working together?”
“Probably. Senator Bishop was found dead, and guess who is running now with Robert Singer for vice president.”
You chuckled. The whole situation was so ironically clear. “Victoria, that stupid, smart bitch.”
“I’m gonna get some information on her, I know some people who’d know more than I do. I’ll call once I find something.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for that. Do you need me to do anything?”
“Just keep Soldier Boy busy. Work on that injection as soon as you can,” she ordered.
You nodded to yourself, taking a look around the empty lot. “Yes, ma’am.”
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After a somewhat long time, Ben saw you entering the room and locking the door. You left a paper bag and water on the nightstand by his bed, where he laid down like he was having a nice day on the beach with only a towel around his hips. He noticed you looked down at him a little longer than usual, but he wasn’t going to let that slip. A sleazy smirk formed on his lips.
“My eyes are up here, sugar.”
You turned away your gaze for a moment before looking back up at him again, confident this time as you locked up your eyes with his half-lidded ones.
“Stop the pet names, Soldier Boy.”
Ben stood up on his feet slowly under your eyes following his moves. His muscular frame towering over your figure as the towel fell to the floor, revealing his bare figure to you. He was growing fond of the way you didn’t step back, ever, from him.
“Well, you never complained back there. Speaking of,” he took the bottle of water between his hands and took a sip from it before his green orbs focused on you anew. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I already told you. I don’t know shit.”
“Fucking lies,” the supe hissed. “Tell me now.”
You shrugged and crossed your arms on your chest, tired of him. “I have nothing.”
“Sweetheart, you never shut your piehole during our sessions. Don’t back up now,” he dared, stepping closer to you, eyelids narrowing.
Neither Ben or you dared to look away. You had to act like it, for your good. What if Soldier Boy found out that probably Homelander was behind all of it? It was going to be the end of him, his son; the fucking abusive experiment would be gone with a blast. But Vought was still around. It wasn’t just about Homelander or personal payback. It was more than that.
Homelander was barely the tip of the iceberg. And you were afraid Ben would never understand the mission. Would he say yes to use his blood to create even more experiments after all he went through, even if you explained everything? You knew his answer. The next step was getting it from him and it was going to be the hardest thing ever. But you could think of that later. There was nothing that a small cut accident couldn’t do.
“I’m not talking because I have nothing to tell you, Ben,” you lied, looking at him with your brows knitting together. “I wish I knew, but I’m just as scared as you might be.”
“I’m not scared,” he replied a little too fast. “I want to know why you took me out.”
“Why not?” you insisted. “You deserve another chance.”
And I need you alive to find a cure to this curse.
Ben scrutinized your face. This time, he couldn’t read through you. What did he know though, was that he was tired. A burning ache was forming inside him once again and he needed to release it. He was used to sensing your heartbeats, the blood running on your veins, and still now there was no glimpse of you reacting to his teasing. Any other woman would have thrown herself at him, he was used to it. Now, there wasn’t anyone. Just you, paying no attention to his perfectly sculpted body and his cock between his legs. It had to be the fact that you were a supe. Not as powerful, but still. A clear advantage in the cursed world you all lived in. He took in your body, thinking into luring you to give in and imagining how it would be to have you crying under him, moaning his name exactly like numerous women have. Just for the night.
“Don’t think about it, Soldier Boy,” you voiced out, like if you read his nasty mind. “I’m not gonna do that.”
His eyes went back to your face. “Y’know, I used to have lines of women like you during my days. Countless lines of rich whores, waiting to have a good fuck with me. Pretty ladies whose husbands would leave unattended, cute little secretaries, bombshell Hollywood actresses… All of them, just wet holes ready for me. I’d take them all.”
You chuckled at his pathetic little speech. If that was his way of getting you to bed, it wasn’t working. Not now, not never.
“I’m not just any rich whore, Ben. I don’t want to fuck you, you can use the bathroom to take care of your little problem down there.”
You saw how his jaw clenched as he held his eyes with yours.
He smirked. “Maybe not today, pretty thing. But you’ll see.”
“Be my guest.”
Ben turned around, giving you a clear view of his ass as he locked himself inside the bathroom. The sound of the shower running was not enough to cover his moans and grunts as he jerked himself off. You just decided to sleep. There was a long drive waiting for you in the morning.
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multifandomsw · 4 months
Text
Apologies 7
Harry Styles x Reader
summary: After an encounter with your old best friend, she gave you her number to catch up. When you decide to send her a message, someone else replies. Was it destiny?
warnings: angst, fluff
author’s note: It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m so happy to be back! I wrote this within a few hours. It was quite hard to write, but I hope you’ll enjoy this! I feel like you’ll either like it or hate it…especially the end
Part 7
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Harry took yet another look at his phone and sighed when he saw that half an hour had already passed.
Lucy was late again.
Normally Harry wouldn’t truly care about that fact. He’d just pull out his phone and look at some instagram stories.
This time though, he needed to talk to Lucy. Desperately needed to talk to Lucy.
Because of you.
God, he couldn’t take you off of his mind. He hadn’t been able to take you off of his mind ever since he got to know you, but now it was worse.
The thought of you was the only thing that consumed his mind.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face in front of him. And every time he saw it, he was reminded that you were truly the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. And he was sure that no matter how many more new people he would see during his life, it would stay this way.
After feeling your warm touch on his skin yesterday, Harry wasn’t sure if he could continue living without it. He craved feeling you this close to him again.
“Harry.”, someone interrupted and when he looked up and saw Lucy, Harry felt relieved. Because as much as he loved thinking about you, he was going insane.
“Hi.”, he breathed out and took her in. She still wore the same outfit she had worn yesterday, her make-up was smudged and her hair was a mess. Nevertheless, Lucy wore a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Oskar wouldn’t let me go.”, she giggled and sat down on the seat opposite from Harry.
Harry only raised his eyebrows. “Oskar, huh?”
Lucy blushed. “He’s actually really nice. He even made some breakfast.”, Lucy giggled and took a sip from the coffee Harry had ordered. “Ew, it’s cold.”
Harry only rolled his eyes. “Because you’re late.”, he sighed. “Have you checked on her? Is she fine?”, he needed to know.
Lucy simply sighed. “She is. She only has a headache.”, she began, but hesitated before continuing. “What?”, Harry furrowed his eyebrows.
“She doesn’t remember anything from yesterday. She thinks it was a dream.”, Lucy admitted.
Honestly, Harry didn’t know if he should feel relieved or disappointed. He was glad that you didn’t find out yet, glad that he could just be himself for a little while longer. But after yesterday, he realized that texting you was not enough for him. He wanted to see your radiant smile every day, he wanted to hear your voice every day, wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms every day.
“Oh.”, he whispered defeatedly.
“Harry-“, Lucy started, but Harry interrupted her quickly. “You said she went to the club to forget about her troubles, right? What’s troubling her? She barely tells me stuff like that anymore and I- I feel like she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, but then yesterday she told me she liked me and I-“, his voice cracked. “I just don’t know what to think anymore.”, he continued in a whisper.
“She hated the attention she’s getting, Harry. You know that the interaction you had with her in Munich is all over the internet. It went even that far that a fan of yours approached her when we were in a café. And-“, Lucy began, but stopped talking, debating whether she should even tell Harry about that.
“And what, Lucy?”, he desperately wanted to know.
“I don’t know if you know everything about what happened with her old best friend at your concert.”, she began and Harry shook her head. “No, not everything.”
“Well- her old best friend approached her with her boyfriend and told her that no one would ever like her and that you only talked to her because you pitied her-“
Harry’s heart quite literally stopped. “What the fuck? She doesn’t believe that, does she?”
“She kind of does.”, Lucy sighed. “But Harry, she told me that she liked you. It’s obvious how much.”
“She likes H.”, he reminded Lucy and seeing the sad look in his eyes hurt Lucy too.
“But that’s you, that’s the real you. Don’t you see? You like each other. It’s time to tell her the truth, Harry. Better now than too late.”, Lucy argued, but stopped when she saw one tear rolling down Harry’s cheek.
It felt like someone was stabbing a knife into Harry’s heart, slowly and painfully. Guilt washed over his whole body because he realized that he was the reason for your troubles. His concert was the reason for all your troubles. He was so focused on blaming himself, that he forgot to acknowledge the fact that you said that you liked him. You liked him.
Harry desperately tried wiping his tears away, but they just wouldn’t stop flowing out of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”, he managed to get out and Lucy knew it was not directed to her.
“H.”, Lucy tried to console him and he was almost disgusted when she said it. After you had called him H yesterday, he decided that he didn’t want anyone else calling him H ever again. It only sounded right when you had said it. “Harry.”, Lucy tried again and that’s when Harry stopped trying to wipe the tears away.
They were falling freely now.
“What’s wrong, Harry?”, she sincerely wanted to know.
Harry gulped hard. “It’s my fault. Everything’s my fault. It all happened during my concert. She’s struggling because of me.”, his voice cracked at the end.
“No, no. You’re not going to blame yourself now.”, Lucy instructed. “It was not your fault and you know it. You know what she told me? That she’s a thousand times happier ever since she got to know you. You gave her hope. You managed to make her believe that she might actually be good enough.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “She said that?”
“Yes! Harry, she truly likes you. I know I shouldn’t get involved, but you should tell her who you are eventually. She’s happy and Harry, you are happy too. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve never liked someone as much as you like her. She’s the only person you talk about lately.”
Of course Lucy was right. She always was. And somehow, Lucy had managed to give Harry a bit of hope back. “Do you think you could convince her to go to one of my Wembley shows? It would mean the world to me.”
-
His eyes were piercing green. They reminded you of a forest in summer, of springtime grass. His eyes reminded you of life.
They were so breathtakingly beautiful that you didn't look away from them even when he said your name so softly.
But as much as you loved his eyes, your eyes trailed down to his soft and full rosy lips. Only one thought consumed your whole mind: what would it be like to just lean in and kiss him?
You imagined the soft feeling of his lips moving against yours. You thought of how they would taste, like sweet honey, like a summer night, like him.
You whispered his name back just as softly and dragged your eyes back to his. You noticed that his pupils were dilated and wondered for a second if yours were too.
He placed his hand against your cheek, slowly caressing it with his thumb as he stepped closer to you.
He was so close now that you could feel his breath softly tickle your skin and you knew if you looked down, his lips would only be centimeters away from yours.
"Can I kiss you?", he asked, leaning closer but never closing the gap. Not before you would give him permission, you figured.
You parted your lips, letting out a shaky breath."Yes.", you managed to answer and he wasted no time as he leaned closer to you-
Before he pulled back and let out an evil chuckle.
”Green eyes can't be trusted.", he smirked and let go of you.
-
Lucy practically stormed into your room and woke you up in the process. “You won’t believe what happened.”, she let out excitedly and you simply groaned.
You groaned because she had woken you up and because you had dreamed about him again.
Again, because you had dreamt about H yesterday, too.
“Leave me alone.”, you grumbled and closed your eyes again, but Lucy didn’t care. “I won tickets for one of Harry’s Wembley shows.”, she let out excitedly and it took a moment for you to process this information.
“What?”, you sat up and looked at her in disbelief. “And they’re VIP tickets, too!”
“That’s- that’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“You’ll come with me.”, she decided and your eyes widened. “No, no.”, you whispered. “Lucy, you know what happened during my last concert.”
She quietly said your name. “We have VIP tickets, which means there are no fans nearby. No one can disturb you.”
“But they can still take pictures of me and start speculations.”, you argued, crossing your arms.
“And? It’s fucking Harry Styles, who cares if the world thinks you’re dating. They’re just jealous.”
“Lucy.”, you started, sighing. “You know I-“
“Please.”, she practically begged you. “I don’t want to go alone, I won’t go alone. And I have no one else to go with.”
The tickets would go to waste if you didn’t go with Lucy. And as much as you hated the idea of going, you decided that you should slowly overcome your doubts and fear. “Okay?”, you answered unsure.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”, you whispered and hid your face in the T-shirt you were wearing. Lucy had told you that it was hers and that she had helped you change when you came home from the club. You believed her of course, but the shirt didn’t smell like Lucy at all. It smelled like a forest in spring after it had just rained, like fresh flowers and grass.
It smelled like home.
-
You and H had never stopped texting each other, but you had stopped talking to him about some things.
Not intentionally, no, but you slowly started to believe that H was getting tired of you too.
Which was anything but true. When you told H about it, he was determined to show you how much he truly cared for you.
H: Listen to “All I Want” by Kodaline.
You: Oh?
H: It reminds me of you
You: Stop it you know I’m blushing
H: I just want to show you how much I care about you
You: I might care about you too
H: Oh, you might?
You: Well, you could still be old
H: I hate you
You: You know you love me
H: Yeah I do
H: Do you know what you’ll wear to the concert tomorrow?
You: Just something simple. Probably a cute top and some oversized pants
H: I really want you to go, but are you 100% sure that you’ll be okay?
You: I think I’ll be
H: You think?
You: No, I know. He’s one of my favorite singers and I’m really excited about the concert now that I’m thinking about it
You: Who cares if people think we’re dating? I mean who wouldn’t want to date Harry Styles?
H: I’m glad
H: You’d make a great couple
You: Oh shut up
-
"Uhm-, Harry began, but looked down at his hands to think about his next words very carefully. It was Jeff after all and Jeff hated spontaneous decisions. He was likely going to tell Harry how he would regret it and how impulsive he had been, but deep down, Harry knew he wouldn't regret it, would never regret it.
"How have you been?", Harry changed the question quickly and Jeff only raised his eyebrows.
"We saw each other yesterday."
Harry bit his lip in order not to let out a laugh. It was stupid to be afraid to tell him, but Harry cared about Jeff's opinions.
"Just say whatever you want to say, it can't be that bad.", Jeff nudged Harry's arm and now
Harry truly let out a laugh.
"It might be that bad.", Harry chuckled. "Okay, but you can't say that it was an impulsive decision before hearing me out."
Jeff scrunched his face in confusion. "Did you get nipple piercings?"
"What?"
"Please tell me you didn't get a genital piercing.”Jeff looked Harry deep into his eyes, concern written all over his face.
Harry could only let ihr a hysterical laugh. "You're absolutely crazy, of course I didn't get a genital piercing!"
Jeff let out a breath of relief. "You scared me for a second, boy"
Harry could only roll his eyes in response. "Okay. I got a new tattoo."
"You always get new tattoos, it's nothing new."
"Okay, but this one might be.", Harry let out and just shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just going to show you.", he said while taking his shirt off.
Jeff's eyes searched for the tattoo for a second, but his eyes widened when he saw the new tattoo on his collar bone.
"Please tell me this is a joke."
"Nope."
"Are you out of your mind?", he asked as he stared at the Cherry tattoo on his chest. Spelled out.
"See, I knew you were gonna react like this."
"She doesn't even know who you are!", Jeff argued. "This will last forever Harry. You're not even-“, Jeff interrupted himself before he took a deep breath.
“I’ve never felt that way about someone before.”, Harry admitted with a small smile on his face and when Jeff looked in his eyes he saw not an ounce of doubt.
Jeff sighed. “When will you tell her?”
Harry’s smile instantly dropped. “Soon.”
“This won’t end well if you fail to tell her the truth Harry.”
“I know.”, he whispered back. “I want to tell her, I just don’t know how.”
“She’ll be here today, right?”, Jeff questioned. “Yes.”
“Then tell her today.”
“No, no, I couldn’t.”, Harry stammered.
Jeff only gave him a stern look. “You should do it, and you know it. Now go change into your outfit.”
-
To say you were late was an understatement. Lucy’s car had broken down in the middle of the road. You had even suggested to just go back home, but Lucy had insisted on taking a taxi to the concert after you had waited over an hour for someone to take Lucy’s car away.
When you entered the VIP tent, Harry Styles was already singing Sign of the Times and you realized that you had missed almost all of the songs.
Still, when you saw him on the stage, you were once again absolutely mesmerized. He looked gorgeous. From the rosy cheeks, to his full lips and sparkling eyes. You could see his dimples when he smiled at a fan and almost lost it.
Hearing Sign of the Times live for the very first time was probably one of the most beautiful things you had ever experienced. Sometimes you forgot how good Harry Styles could truly sing.
“I’m sorry that we arrived so late.”, Lucy apologized and pulled you out of your trance. “Nonsense. We’re here now.”, you looked around the tent, not seeing anyone familiar until your eyes landed on Anne and Gemma not far away from you. Anne was waving at Harry and Gemma was swaying from side to side.
They were standing so closely to you, you could just take a few steps towards them and talk to them.
Which you, of course, wouldn’t do. But you could.
-
“She’s not coming, is she?”, Harry whispered to himself after Sign of the Times ended. He had long given the hope up and it hurt him to look into the direction of the VIP tent and not see you standing there, beaming up at him.
Still, he couldn’t help himself and spared the VIP tent one last glance and caught-
Your eyes.
He just stared at you for a few seconds. At your toothy smile, at your adorable hairstyle, at your rosy cheeks. He had only seen you a few days ago, but still: his heart quite literally stilled in his chest.
He didn’t think you would show up.
Harry let out a chuckle and ducked his head for a second, trying not to get too distracted. “Hi.”, he mouthed and blew you a small kiss.
He knew he shouldn’t talk to you. Not after all the hate you got after the last concert. Still, it pained him not being able to talk to you.
Seeing the blush form on your cheeks, though, was more than enough to satisfy him.
“I think we all feel a little unloved sometimes.”, Harry began addressing the crowd. “Some more than others. I’m sure that every single one of you has thought about not being good enough at least once in your lives. Including me. You probably have felt unloved, unwanted and left out on more than one occasion.”, Harry began and the crowd roared.
“I know this girl.”, Harry began and one girl in the crowd made an ‘uhhh’ sound.
Harry chuckled, those beautiful dimples of his showing. He spared you a glance and saw that you were listening intensely. “And this girl thinks all of these things every single day. Over and over again.”
“And you know what? She’s none of these things. She is loved, she is wanted, she is more than fucking good enough. She’s everything.”, Harry had to fight every urge not to look at you right now, because he was sure he would beging to cry instantly.
“She doesn’t know that yet. I hope she’ll know this and realize this one day. She doesn’t even know that I’m talking about her right now. But I want her to know that I’ll always wait for her. Until the end of the time. This song I wrote reminds me quite a lot of her. This is Little Freak.”, Harry ended his speech and began singing.
You never saw my birthmark.
Harry knew, with every fiber in his being, that all of his following songs would be about you. Every single song he had begun writing since he had known you was about you.
-
“This song wasn’t on the set list! It’s one of my favorites.”, you told Lucy who was grinning at you. “It sure is. Do you know how many-“, Lucy stopped talking suddenly and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before you turned around and saw someone approaching you-
Anne and Gemma were approaching you.
“What?”, you whispered to yourself when Gemma hugged Lucy. “I’m glad you could make it!”, Gemma grinned and stepped back so that Anne could give Lucy a hug.
How did she know them? Did they confuse Lucy with someone else? “I heard your car broke down.”, Anne said worriedly and now you were sure that they weren’t confusing her for someone else.
“Yes, but we just took the taxi.”, Lucy answered and introduced Anne and Gemma to you. Anne went to hug you quickly and grinned at you. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have?”, you questioned. “Uh- yes, Lucy told us quite a bit.”
“How do you-“, you began, your mind still not comprehending that you were talking to Anne and Gemma. “How do you know each other?”
Lucy bit her lip. “Anne is my mom’s best friend.”, Lucy explained. You couldn’t believe it. Why had she never told you about that? Surely, she couldn’t have just forgotten. “Oh. You never told me about that.”
Lucy just shrugged her shoulders. “I must have forgotten to.”, she answered and turned back to Anne. Why would she forget something like that? Hadn’t she said that she was a Harry Styles fan?
“Do you like London, dear?”, Anne questioned. “Oh, yes, uhm- it’s very beautiful here.”, you stammered and Anne smiled warmly at you. “Have you seen much of the city already?
“Well- parts of it. But I still have much to see, I suppose.”
Anne nodded. “Oh yes, I’m sure Harry will show you around sometime.”, Anne began and you saw as horror washed over Gemma’s face.
Harry? Why would Harry Styles show you around? Surely, they haven’t seen the rumors on the internet? They wouldn’t say anything about it, because Harry Styles would tell them that they weren’t real-
So why did they bring up Harry?
“Harry?”, you questioned and watched Anne’s eyes widen with fear, too. “Lucy. Lucy will show you around.”
Your mouth parted as you moved your eyes to the stage, where Harry had just finished his song and was looking at you. You looked from him to Gemma and back.
Surely Harry wasn’t-
No, no, that didn’t make any sense-
H lived in London. H was working in the music industry. H had his own concerts. H traveled a lot with his band. H didn’t tell you his real name or name of his band. H was a singer. H was a songeriter. H knew Taylor Swift. H was single because his schedule was too tight for love.
H is short for Harry.
Harry fucking Styles.
You felt the tears rush to your eyes as you stared at Harry Styles. He stared back at you as if waiting for you to say something. You bit your lip as you shook your head frequently, looking at him with utter disappointment. He had failed to tell you the truth.
No, no this could not be real, but as you turned around and ran away, you heard Harry Styles calling out after you, which made it all real.
“Cherry, wait.”
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dearestvante · 2 months
Text
wrong number; kth.
in which your boyfriend is ignoring you, so you have to get creative.
pairing: taehyung x reader genre: non idol au, established relationship, fluff, lilbit of angst warnings: mild swearing word count: 873
a/n. just a little something before valentine's ends <3 enjoy!
the pounding on your front door got louder with every second you left it unanswered. you had a faint idea who might be behind it, so you weren’t exactly rushing to open it up.
“alright, i’m coming!” you yelled, then after fiddling with your keys for a few more seconds, you finally opened it. your senses didn’t fail, behind the door it was taehyung, your noticeably pissed off boyfriend. you can’t get a word out, he’s already barged in, standing in front of you with both hands on his waist.
“sure, come right in.” you close the front door and face him, arms crossed in front of your chest.
“what the fuck was that text y/n?!”
oh, yes. the text. the two of you had quite a big fight a few days ago, which resulted in him storming out of your apartment in the middle of the night. he has been ignoring all your calls and messages ever since, therefore in order to get his attention, you had to get a little creative. so you had the genius idea to send him a text, which suggests that you had fun with someone last night and you would like to do it again, and make it look like it was meant for someone else. and after half an hour of sitting around, staring at the message, you hit send eventually. your efforts didn’t go in vain, cause he replied within minutes. gotcha, you thought before hitting him with the “oh, sorry, wrong number.” that sentence definitely set your plan in motion, cause he’s here, and he’s talking to you, although it’s not about making up. not yet, at least.
“it was nothing, forget it.” you reply, trying so hard not to smile.
“nothing?! do you, perhaps, need a reminder that we’re still together?” his eyebrows raise in confusion as he takes a small step towards you. he is a bit intimidating, but good god, he looks so attractive.
“no, but you might!” you quickly shake away your wondering thoughts and focus on settling this conflict, cause it’s been bothering you. and you were hoping that he feels the same, he’s just too stubborn to make the first step.
“me? i’m not the one “having fun” with others.”
his words hit you so hard, you drop your act almost immediately. “did you really think that i— oh my god, taehyung!”
“what the fuck was i supposed to think after that text, huh?!” you bury your face in your hands, realizing just how stupid this whole plan was. now you have to come clean, and he might not even believe you. you take a deep breath and raise your gaze to meet his, that’s eagerly waiting for an explanation.
“it wasn’t meant for anyone else, it was meant for you, all along.” he doesn’t seem to understand, so you continue. “i sent that text to get your attention.”
you break the eye contact, looking down at your feet. you feel ashamed and pathetic and his piercing gaze is not exactly helping. the few second of silence that falls on the room feels never-ending and suffocating. you want to say something but you can’t even bring yourself to lift your head, let alone talk. he breaks the overwhelming quiet with a relieved sigh. you can feel him get closer to you, one hand grabs your waist, the other slips under your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“it worked, i guess.” he smiles, faintly.
“why were you ignoring me?”
“cause.. uncertainty was better than accepting the fact that you might want to end this… and then you sent me that text today, and i just… i thought you moved on.”
“oh, tae..” you almost break down crying when you realize what you did. he wasn’t mad, like you thought, he was just scared of losing you, and you just fueled his concern.
“i would never do that to you.”
you bring your arms up to cup his face but he precedes you with the act and before you would even realize it, his lips are crashing against yours. you don’t waste so much time either and kiss him back immediately, one hand running through his soft, dark hair, while the other wraps around his shoulders so you can pull him closer. seconds turn into minutes like this and you get so lost in the moment that you forget why did he came here in the first place. after slowly separating, you are standing there, with both hands intertwined, foreheads still touched together.
“i don’t even remember what we were fighting about.” taehyung says, raising his head a little so he can look at you.
“probably something stupid.”
“and you sent me that text to get my attention? that was the only reason?” he changes the subject, you can tell that it’s still bothering him.
“well.. not really.” you reply, but seeing that look on his face makes you regret it a little, so you quickly add, “you look hot when you’re pissed off.”
he sighs in relief, shaking his head, then looks back at you with the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. “you make me crazy, you brat.”
“i love you.”
“i love you more.”
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ink-and-blood-goddess · 9 months
Text
The Gentle Giant (Bane x Reader) Part I
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Requested by Anonymous- Hi could I request for Bane 😀. Something Angsty and smutty as you can. We're reader is a quiet meek person and stuck in the chaos of banes gothem. Bane sees her getting attacked and helps her, to her surprise. Bane is still mean and scary though and when he has to protect her a 2nd time he decides to keep her with him she is terrified but even though he is rough and mean he starts showing is soft spot for her and things get hot from there.♥️♥️ What ever you can come up with I'm sure will be great no pressure if your not feeling it.
A/N-First off, I like to say I’M SO SORRY to the person who requested this over a year ago. I got around to writing this and using most of my time off to get this done. Originally, I was going to post this as a preview of the story, but instead post part 1 of this fanfic. I also went absolutely overboard when got towards the middle part of it. So, for right now I’m going to post this as two-part fanfics and later on when I finish the whole thing, I’m going to post the whole entire fanfic in post as I originally intended for. 
Part two may take much longer to write since I need to catch up on other requested fanfic, so that I don’t fall behind much further that I’m already am. 
So, please enjoy reading part 1 of this and I’m so sorry again for taking this long for this to written.
Warnings: Choking, hair pulling, lots of language, and violence
Citrus Scale: 🍑
W.C+: 11.2K 
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Gotham City. A place you called home. Or it was until a mysterious figure by the name of Bane took over. You weren’t born in Gotham, but moved to the city for your job and a fresh start in your life.
When growing up, you were very quiet and only spoke at appropriate times. Your parents weren’t bothered by how you kept to yourself and never pressured you about it either. This became very useful when the city went to shit.
Winter came after a month when Batman went missing. You’ve never caught a glimpse of who this Bane was or what he looked like. All you have to do was survive this fucking chaos. But this was very difficult with all of Gotham’s criminals running around the entire city. The only time you went out for supplies was at night. Sure it was dangerous doing it, but during the daytime hours, it was even more dangerous. So nighttime it was.
As the winter sun began to set, white flurries of snow started to fall upon Gotham. The snow never seemed to stop day or night. Covering the empty and silent streets. It felt completely dead and desolate once Bane’s reign began over the city.
All the rumors you’ve heard of this mysterious man prosecuting and judging those who’ve done wrong to the city and then showing no mercy towards them. It’s true that the justice system of Gotham was fucked up and a miscarriage to society of the people of Gotham. You don’t give a shit towards the justice system at all, since this whole thing began and Batman being out of the picture.
Besides that, you didn’t know who to trust during this time and never will if you can’t survive with another person going against your throat. However, you’ve managed to get a message to your parents, telling them that you’re alright making it out on your own and doing what you need to survive. That was the last time you spoke to them, before communication to the outside world was cut off from the city. 
Now you were on your own. It’s been two and a half weeks since your last supply run and your stash is getting really low. Due to winter coming in, you’ve been going through your food and drink rations faster so that they don’t go to waste. You were well stocked on other supplies for another two to three more months, but food and drinks (mainly water) were the most important things to get.
Once the sun finally set for the night, you began to gather your belongings before going out. You always wear your heavy winter coat, long knitted scarf, gloves, and boots during the winter time to keep warm and safe during your nightly supply runs. Before you swung your backpack onto your shoulders, you double checked to make sure that you’ve got everything for tonight.
Flashlight (with extra batteries of course), three bottles of water, two boxes of granola bars, some extra pairs of clothes, and a fully stocked first aid kit. You then double checked yourself to make sure that you’re all bundled up before going out into the cold, snowing weather. The last two things you needed to take with you were your can of pepper spray and baseball bat.
Those were the only weapons you’ve carried around with you since who didn’t know how to use a gun and never will.
You don’t usually use your pepper spray when you go out, but kept it on hand just in case. Your baseball bat was of more use for you, because it was aluminum metal instead of wood. Does all lot more damage than with the pepper spray can on full blast.
Now that you’ve got everything ready for tonight, you checked one last time before heading over towards the door. As you reached the door, you couldn’t help but look at yourself in the mirror. You were all bundled up in your winter coat that went down to your knees, all zipped up with the faux trimmed hood resting behind your head. The neon striped black knitted scarf neatly wrapped around your neck to protect from the cold weather. Black winter gloves protecting your hands from getting frostbite from the snow. Finally, heavy black leather snow boots tied safely around your feet and ankles.
Normally, you would go out like this during the winter time either to your workplace or when you go out into Gotham City itself. But now, things have changed for everybody including yourself.
Now you have to carry at least two objects with you, in order to defend yourself from the fucked up criminals that are walking freely on the city streets and underbelly of Gotham. Still looking through the reflection, you saw yourself holding an aluminum metal baseball bat in your hands and a XL can of pepper spray peeking out from the right side of your coat pocket. 
Everything is completely different now. It affected you the most when it all started. All you have to do is survive and fight for yourself. That’s all that matters now.
After several seconds of looking at yourself in the mirror, you turned back towards the door. Your apartment’s door was heavily locked up. Three deadbolt chains rested tightly in between the wooden door frame and the wall. 
Originally you had one deadbolt chain when you moved in, but after a couple of break ins you asked your landlord to add two more so no more break ins would happen again. Two deadbolt locks and one standard locking door knob. The two deadbolt locks were already there when you moved into the apartment.
Lifting your hand up to the top chain, you felt your heart begin to pound inside of your chest. It always does this whenever you have to go out for supplies at night. Then you started to calm yourself down, as you finally placed your hand upon the top chain. Slowly you began to undo the chain from the sliding lock and then let go after it was out of the sliding lock. It swung back and forth for a moment until it stopped. Then you went down to the next deadbolt chain and undid it. After that you went to the last one. You were hesitant at first at removing it, letting your thoughts run wild. Shaking them away, you placed your hand onto the final deadbolt chain and slowly pulled it away from the door.
Once it was removed, you then went to the two deadbolt locks and twisted them open to the side. Finally, you slowly unlocked the door knob. Placing your hand onto the knob, your heart began to race again, but it calmed straight down.
It’s just a supply run. Nothing else. Just get what you need and you won't get hurt or killed tonight, you told yourself in thought. You then slowly turned the door knob and began to open the door at a slow place. The hinges creaked open against the wooden door frame. Thankfully it wasn’t loud enough to be heard from down the hallway. 
Poking your head out of the doorway, you looked down both hallways twice to make sure that the coast is clear. All clear, you told yourself. Slowly, you pulled your head back in and then stepped out quietly, placing one foot in front of the other. After you were finally out of the doorway, you turned around to close the door slowly and steadily. It quietly creaked against the door frame and gave a silent locking noise after it was fully closed.  
Once you removed your hand from the doorknob, you tucked your hand into your coat pocket for a moment, until you found the keys for the door. Grabbing a hold of them tightly with the palm of your hand, you made sure that they didn’t make any noise. One by one, you picked out the keys for the two deadbolts and the door knob and twisted the keys into each lock. After locking the door knob, you placed the keys back into your coat pocket and padded it down. The keys made a muffled jingle sound inside of the pocket.
Placing your hand back onto the door knob, you tugged on it hard and pushed it a little at the door. It was all locked up tightly now. Nobody was going to break into your place at all. Looking down the hallways one more time, you head down the right side of your floor towards where both the elevators and stairwell are located.
Ever since this whole chaotic justice system started over a month ago, about half of your apartment complex and most of the other residents on your floor became very skittish and violent with one another, even towards you. You did your very best to avoid them at all costs. The only person you still trusted was your landlord. Mr. Asher helped you out when you moved in on your first day in Gotham City. He was always there for you whenever you had a problem inside or outside of the complex. You completely trusted him with every fiber of your being, when this whole fucking chaos started, with everybody on your floor going after you and trying yo break in to kill you. He warned if anybody either on the floor or the entire building comes after you or goes near, he’ll kick their sorry asses out into the cold. 
And after that, nobody else on your floor and the entire building ever threatened you again. It was dead silent as you walked down the hallway, except for some muffled talking either from the people inside or from their TV sets. You couldn’t really tell if it was one or the other. The muffled talking got more quiet as you walked away, the elevators came into view.
Not many of them weren’t working anymore after several fires broke out from the floors below and inside the shafts themselves. They were tapped off and had scorch marks melted into the steel work. The only one left working on your floor was the middle left.
You made your way over to the only working elevator and pushed the down button arrow on the panel. From behind the steel doors, you heard the mechanism start up. Since it was the only elevator left working in the building, you and the other residents have to be careful using it.
The elevator finally stopped as it reached up to your floor. The small ding sounded and the sliding doors opened up in front of you. Before stepping in, you looked over your shoulder one more time to make sure that you were all alone and nobody was following you out. Looks like it was clear to go now.
As you’ve entered onto it, it slightly moved but stayed in place. Once you were inside, you quickly turned around, reaching out with your hand, and pressing the Lobby button on the control panel. The button lit up as the elevator dinged again and the doors closed. Then after a few seconds, it began to move downward in the elevator shaft.
Why did this ever happen, you kept asking yourself over and over a thousand times by now after a month that everything went to shit. Bane or whoever he was, taking over the whole city in just one night. Prosecuting those who go up against the new justice system of Gotham. You always knew that the whole justice system was totally fucked up once you moved here.
Without any word or sightings of Batman, who was going to take down this Bane guy anyway? Not you of course. You’ve only heard rumors and talk, but never really seen him up close in person. You are quite small, but average height for yourself. 
However you taught yourself self defense. It was the only thing to do since Batman wasn’t here anymore to save everybody in Gotham.
You snapped back to reality when you noticed that the elevator stopped. The light screen above the button panel for the floors said L on it. It meant that you finally arrived at the ground floor or the lobby area of your apartment building. The doors opened for you.
Taking another deep breath, you stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby area. After you got off, the doors closed right behind you.
The whole lobby was completely trashed. Every piece of furniture was either destroyed or turned over onto their sides. Trash cans turned over and bags were scattered everywhere in each corner. There was also graffiti sprayed on every wall and window. Several of the lobby windows were blown out. Thousands of shattered pieces of glass were littered all over the lobby. Half of the lobby lights that were still working, lit up the shattered glass pieces on the floor. Making them look like dozens of tiny fallen stars.
Looking outside through the broken windows, the snow started to come down harder and the wind began to pick up. Feeling a shiver go down your spine, you moved yourself forward so that you don’t waste time tonight. You could hear the shattered glass crunch underneath your winter boots. 
Rather than going through the front doors, you instead go out one of the blown out windows. Once you’ve stepped outside onto the lightly snow covered sidewalk, the cold night wind blew through again.
Another shiver went down your spine, as you felt the cold night air touch your half covered face. You felt the snowflakes land upon your half covered face. Melting one by one as they touch your cold skin.
Instead of just standing around, you had to continue on with your task to get more supplies. Looking around the empty streets and roadway, you headed down the left side of the street you were on. Usually you went the other way to get your supplies for the next week or so when this whole thing started, but after a whole month went by you had to result in other measures given the situation.
Originally you had gone down to the supermarket around the corner several dozen blocks on the other side of your apartment building complex. The manager and several of the store employees started to hand out needed supplies such as buckets of food, cases of either bottled water or gallon jugs, and other such needed things.
That’s until looters and the freed criminals took advantage of it and started to take/loot everything from the store shelves. All of them completely cleared out every single item from the whole store and other places around that area.
There was nothing left in that store or anywhere else in the other stores in that area. You never went down there again after they took everything out. You yourself were doing fine with the supplies that you had already. Unfortunately you went through your food and drink stash faster than originally anticipated.
It was supposed to last for another week or two, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Word had gotten out from a few people that live on the same floor you’re on, that there was another supermarket down the other way that hadn't been looted at all. Fully stocked up.
Hoping it was still untouched by looters, you decided to go there anyway to get what you needed to last the next two to three weeks if possible. Looking around while walking, you couldn’t help but feel displaced by everything here.
 You were at work the day it happened. Just sitting there at your desk in your shared office space at the computer when the building began to shake violently. The only thing to do was to take shelter underneath your desk, until everything stopped shaking.
Later, you and everyone else found out there was an explosion at the Gotham City football stadium. The whole field was gone in a matter of seconds. That’s how it started. There was a live TV broadcast coming in from the stadium on every single channel. An announcement came through loud and clear when the silence finally broke.
It was about true justice being served at last and prosecuting those who don’t follow along with the justice system. You didn’t know what the fuck was going on and who was talking during the speech. He announced himself as Bane. All that you can remember from that day forth was that deep raspy voice. The very first time you heard that voice sent chills all over your body. Then it all went to shit.
  Bane’s soldiers raided almost every single building in the city. Looking for those who didn’t serve the justice system the right way and got away with it. Most of the buildings including your apartment complex were spared from the ordered raid.
 After that, you took matters in order to survive this new world of justice, but you have to be careful in doing so. As you continued to walk down with the snow still falling, there were distance gunshots going off followed by a car engine roaring. Echoing off of the buildings and dying off seconds later.
The wind picked up and a cold blast came at you. The cold air made you stop in your tracks and lowered your head down. Feeling it blow past your half covered face and making your skin turn ice cold. Once it died down again, you continued walking on the half snow covered sidewalk.
It was rather tricky walking upon an ice covered surface and you walked at a slow and steady pace. You hated the winter time, even in the city now. All you had to do was bundle up, keep yourself warm, and not stay out too long in the fucking cold. Always trying to be very careful during the winter season, even now with everything going on.
After finally stopping at the last curb, you looked all around the area and at last landed your eyes upon what you were looking for. The safehaven you needed your supplies from: the supermarket that one person talked about.
It looked untouched from looters and criminals. No broken windows, no missing shopping carts, no graffiti sprayed on every single piece of the building, and of course nobody else around to stop you.
You couldn’t help but smile a bit that you made it here by yourself and nobody else got in your way. This is your one chance to get in, take what you can carry out, and get the fuck out of there before something bad happens or something much worse: Death.
You became afraid of dying either in your apartment from an intruder or on the city streets when this whole thing began. You didn’t want your parents to grieve over your body and make them suffer for the rest of their lives.
Since it was still dark out and the snow was still falling down, you had to act fast and get what you came here for. Looking around to make sure that nobody else was there hiding in the dark shadows or going to be attacked, you dashed off the curb and ran across the street as fast as you could
Your heart began to race, as you ran straight towards the glass sliding doors of the market building. Your backpack bouncing against your back. As you were getting closer and closer to the store doors, you began to slow down to a speed walk.
You were out of breath by the time you got to the closed doors and had to stand there for a few seconds before you could do anything else. Your heart went back to a normal pace, as you were catching your breath.
Placing your one gloved hand onto the freezing glass, you squinted and looked through the door into the store. Completely pitch black darkness. Not very visible from either side of the glass, because you were fogging up half of the glass with your covered mouth, temporarily blocking your vision from your hot breath.
Time to act now and fast. You quickly shrugged off your backpack with ease. You still held onto the bat just in case. With a quiet, crunchy thump onto the half snow covered sidewalk, you quickly opened the zipper, dove your free hand into it, and felt around the bottom to find the heavy duty flashlight.
After a few seconds of feeling around, you’ve finally found it and pulled it out. Closing it up now, you lifted the backpack up and slung your arms back through the shoulder straps. Now it was time to go inside.
The only way to go in was through the front, since you don’t have time to check other places to get into the store through such as back or side doors or even windows you can get through. So front doors it is.
You crouched down to where the lock was located on the metal door frame. With some help of the still working light above you, it illuminated the crack for you to see a bit better. 
From the looks of it, the security deadbolt lock wasn’t engaged into the slot. This made it much better for you since you didn’t want to break in through the doors.
You quickly and quietly placed both the bat and flashlight onto the ground, placed each of your fingers into the door crack, and began to pull it open. You yourself didn’t have much strength when it comes to pulling or moving heavy items around. With doors it was more work to do, even with just yourself doing it.
As you keep on pulling and pulling, you feel the door start to slide open. It was a huge struggle at first to pull the doors open with your small, meek frame. It felt like they were stuck into place because of the cold weather coming in.
Until you felt a small jolt as you continued on pulling the doors and they started to glide open more easily. A sigh of relief washed over you and the heavy pressure from pulling open the metal framing lifted off of your shoulders.
The doors settled into place for right now. You then picked both the bat and flashlight as quickly as possible and headed inside through the now opened entrance. Making your way inside, you walked very slowly and softly so as to not create any echoing footprints on the floor. 
You couldn’t believe your own eyes as you held the flashlight out in front of you. Aisles upon aisles of everything you can find in a store. Each of the shelves you saw in front of you were completely left untouched.  
  Nothing was out of place and nothing wasn’t missing either. You felt your heart flutter like a bird locked in a cage, by looking at all this unlimited supplies. But you have to act quickly now and take as much as you need with you back.
Looking around with your flashlight beaming brightly in the nearly darkened space, you spotted a row of stacked shopping carts near one of the emergency exit doors in the far corner of the building. You quickly walked over to where they are and grabbed one that was closest to you. Moving it back and forth for a few moments to check to see if it was in good working condition.
None of the four wheels were squeaking or going in another direction. Grabbing a hold of the handle, you began to push it towards the aisle where the bottles of water were kept. You placed the bat inside so that you can one hand free, while your other one held onto the flashlight.
You then turned a sharp right down the aisle and found where the water was. There were single served regular to XL bottles all across the top to middle shelves in the aisle. The only ones that you really needed the most were the 2.5 gallon jugs. You only used them for cooking, washing the dishes, and drinking as much as you needed to. About half of the residents in your complex have a tendency to overuse the water heaters, they have a tendency to shut off on their own if they hit their breaking point. The only time you need to use the water in your apartment is for the shower only. Saves you a lot of trouble so that you don’t have to overuse the water all the time.  
On the bottom shelf towards the floor, you spotted the water jugs that you needed the most. The bright side is that they came in a pack of four instead of two. Halting the cart to a full stop, you got down onto your knees and grabbed the pack towards the front of the bottom shelf. The two handles on the pack made it a lot easier to grab ahold of and lift it up.
But it wasn’t quite easy when you were lifting it up from the floor. With the weight of the water including the four 2.5 gallon jugs made it feel like you were hoisting up a fucking boulder from a mountain side of all things. At least your small frame of a body could handle this sort of thing for only a few moments.
You had to place your foot on top of the under rack of the cart to keep it from moving as you were loading the four pack onto it. The pack slightly shifted the weight of the cart now, but you’ll manage to push it as long as you can.
After it was loaded into the cart, you bent down again to grab another four pack of water from the bottom shelf and then placed that one on top of the other pack. Now you were all set for water for the next several weeks to another month or two. There was other supplies you needed to get and you had to act fast.
Grabbing a hold of the cart again, you pushed with all your strength you had and turned a sharp left at the end of the aisle. The remaining supplies that you needed to get were batteries, toothpaste, sanitary pads, canned food, candles, matches, a couple of flashlights, pain meds, snacks, and a new radio.
Your heart was at a steady beat as you wheeled around the empty aisles of the store, grabbing what you needed. The more you filled up the cart, the more it became difficult to push around. Besides, you were going to take it with you anyway since you needed a way to get the supplies back to your apartment. There was a service elevator towards the back of the lobby where the parking garage is located, because it had more room to fit into than the regular elevators themselves.
The only thing left to get was a new radio. The one that your parents had given you when you were moving out, shorted out on you when you were trying to tune into any of the radio stations that were still on the air. It was very unexpected the way it had happened when it sparked and started to smoke. Besides it was old anyway and there was now way of replacing any of the parts now since they’ve melted together in one pile.
Electronics were located towards the back of the store and you made your way over as quickly as you could. The sooner you grab one, the sooner you can get out of here. Once you’ve turned the corner of the electronics aisle, you went straight down until you’ve found the boxes of radios. Halting the bugging into place, you shifted the flashlight forward to look at what radios they’ve got on the shelves. 
Towards the top of the shelves, you’ve found one that looked useful enough for you. Reaching up on the tips of your boots, you managed to grab one of the boxes that was closest to the edge of the shelf. As you wrapped your fingers onto the top of the box, a sudden noise caught you off guard.
Without warning, the box slipped from your grasp and fell on the floor with a soft thud. Oh fuck. Somebody or something was coming. No time to act in self defense. You needed to find a place to hide in the store, until what or who leaves. You grabbed the bat from the cart and within seconds your flashlight was shut off.
Quickly and quietly, you made your way through the aisle and straight towards the back of the store. The only place that you could hide in was behind the pharmacy counter. It was tall enough to hide you until it was safe to come back out.
You pushed through the doubled hinged swinging door and then ducked behind the counter. Tucking your knees against your body and resting your head upon them, you hold onto your breath so that you don’t give away your hiding place. Both your flashlight and bat rested at each of your sides. 
Then the sound of footsteps came into view, followed by the sound of voices. “Man, look at this fucking place. It’s jammed packed with all these goodies. Just for us.”
The first voice sounded male that was almost older than you. You listened carefully to what was happening right now. You thought that nobody else knew about this store other than the few residents on your floor talking about it.
“Once we take everything on this side of the city, we’re going to own this place and everything in it.” The sound of laughter soon came after, echoing off of the ceiling everywhere. “Fuck yeah. The boss’s going to be over the moon about this. No more scrounging around for rations.”
A second male voice, but sounded a bit younger. There were only two of them. No chance of sneaking out. Just to sit tight and wait until they both leave so that you can get out of here with your much needed supplies.
“Hey, let’s check around and make sure that EVERYTHING is here and report back to the boss about our search,” the older one chuckled a bit. This is not good. You left your supply cart out in the open, with the radio box still on the floor. They’re going to notice that you were going to take those supplies with you.
No way you were going to sneak past them. You’ll get caught within a second if they ever spot you. All you have to do right now is just to sit tight and wait for both of them to leave. It wasn’t going to be easy though since you have to hold your breath, not to make any noise that’ll alert them.
You heard their footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling of the store, making you feel like you were trapped between a rock and a hard place. It sounded like they were going through each of the aisles, checking to see what was still there on the shelves. Sooner or later, they’re going to notice several items missing from their spots and inside of the cart you were using just now. Hopefully they don’t see it and the stuff inside.
“Hey, come over here quickly. Found something” Too late. The running of footsteps soon came after. “What is it? What did you find,” the second male voice sounded out of breath. “Looks like somebody came in and tried to take this stuff with them,” you heard the shuffle of the items you were taking being moved around in the cart. 
“Oh yeah. Then why’s this shit still doing here in the store if it never made it far enough to the front doors,” the second male sounded agitated now. “If they wanted these so badly, why didn’t they take it all with them.” His voice is getting more aggressive with his tone. “I mean come on man. All this fucking shit in this place is all ours for the taking and nobody elses’ for them to take.”
The first male sort of laughed at him and his laugh echoed. “Because you fucking idiot. They didn’t make a run for it at all. Instead they’re hiding out somewhere in here” You heard the rattling of the box that the radio you dropped is in and being tossed to the other male. The second male scoffed at the first.
“Whoever they are, they can’t hide any longer. Not even from us.” You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and a lump form in your throat. You didn’t know what to do now. Your whole body began to shake badly. The last thing on your mind was being caught red handed. 
“Come on. They couldn’t have gotten far,” their footsteps resumed and both started to walk back around the aisles. Now instead of leaving, they were looking for you. Why did it have to happen tonight? You started to blame yourself for leaving the comfort of your completely safe and warm place. But you can’t blame yourself right now. You’ve made it all this way out here just to get supplies and you weren’t going to take any chances. Giving up is not an option for you now. It’s time to get out of here.
After coming out of your thoughts, the sound of their footsteps suddenly stopped. Complete silence, but something didn’t feel right about it. You took a deep and quiet breath in. Exhaling through your nose a couple of times, you lowered your knees back to the floor. They felt sore from the way you sat on the floor. 
Rather than standing back up to look, you instead decided to crawl. Lowering yourself onto your side, you made sure that you didn’t bump anything that was behind you. Grabbing both your bat and flashlight once again, you started to crawl very slowly towards the swinging door. You held a steady breath as you crawled along the carpet floor. Your heart was at a steady beat, but felt like it was beating faster.
As you neared the corner of the swinging door, you made sure to tuck both the bat and flashlight beside you just in case something goes down. With a slow and steady breath, you looked through the large opening underneath the swinging door. Nothing much to see, except the streetlights outside the store faintly bleeding through the front windows.
Looks like the coast is clear now for you to come out of your hiding place. Quickly, you scooted back a bit to lift yourself back up from the floor. As you were grabbing your flashlight, something felt very off. Like the whole atmosphere in the entire room changed. Holding onto your breath yet again, another lump formed in your throat. You began to crawl much slowly now, not making any sort of startling noise. As you neared the corner of the swinging door again, you felt a mysterious dark shadow looming over your crawling form.
“Well looky looky here Charlie. It looks like we have a mouse in our house.” All of a sudden, you’ve felt a large hand grab ahold of your hood with a fucking strong grip and pulling you out of your hiding hiding spot. The only thing that escaped from your throat was a high pitched scream. It echoed off of the high ceiling as you were being dragged out of your hiding place.
It felt like you were being tossed like a rag doll across the store floor as you were being pulled out. You slammed into a shelf that was near and got the wind knocked out of you. Crouching over with your arms hugging your padded sides, you knew that you were totally fucked now. You were grabbed again, but this time your hood was pulled back from hiding your pale face.
You had no other choice, but to look up at who caught you. The one that was holding you by your hood had a medium build, that almost reminded you of an MMA fighter. He had on military type gear such as the vest, camo pants, and combat boots. Underneath the vest was an olive green pullover hoodie. On his hands were a pair of black winter gloves where the fingers on the gloves were cut off.
The other one stood across from you, leaning up against the front of the pharmacy counter. He had the same gear on, except he had on a black pullover hoodie that looked bigger than him. He had a smaller build than the other one. Both his arms were crossed and had one leg crossed over the other.
   Both had dark hair with undercuts. You couldn’t really see either of their faces since they were halfway covered with some face coverings they use to keep cool out in the deserts. Their skin looks pale, but it was hard to tell from the faint light coming in from outside. The most disturbing part was their dark eyes. So dark they almost looked possessed.
Your whole body froze as you looked into their eyes. Fear began to fill you with awful dread creeping its way into your heart. There’s no escaping now.
“So. What do you think you’re doing?” The one that was holding onto you by your hood sounded agitated when he asked you. You had no other choice but to answer his question. “I was,” those were the first two words that popped out of your mouth. Your voice was low, almost like a whisper. 
“I was getting supplies,” you spoke up more so that both of them heard you loud and clear. It felt like holes were being bored into you from their stares. “For who then,” he asked again, but it sounded like he was gritting his teeth together.
“Are you stealing our shit to give to other people or taking it all for yourself,” he spat, lowering his face to yours. You could almost feel his hot breath on your cold skin through his face covering.
You swallowed hard. The fact he’s much closer to you, it was making you more afraid of him. More and more fear began to flood your entire body. Still, you have to answer him or else you’ll be killed. 
  “The supplies are for me. I was running low and needed to replenish my stash.” His hot breath ghosting your cold skin. You could feel that he was getting more angry with every second. With a sudden jolt, he grabbed you by your hair that was held up in a ponytail in a tight grip. You let out a painful gasp, with your mouth gaping open. You can feel his thick fingers digging into your scalp.
“Then why are you fucking stealing from us then,” he hiss straight into your ear as he got much closer now, “this is our territory you little bitch.Why did you ever come here? There are other places in the whole fucking city you can raid.” You felt him dig his finger nails deeper into your scalp.
The pain started to increase more and more when he was digging in. “Most of the other places were emptied out,” you gasped, as you tried not to move much while he held your ponytail in a tightass grip, “this was the only place that had the supplies that I really needed. That’s all I’m here for.”
“Please,” you started to beg now, which was the only thing to do, “just let leave with my stuff and I’ll never come back here ever. I’ll leave you two alone and I won’t ever talk about this at all either. Please just let me go.” You said with a shaky breath.
With a sharp, deep breath, he pulled your head back with a sharp jolt and dug much deeper into the roots of your (H/C) hair. You let out a painful cry as you could feel him pull your hair out almost. 
“I don’t think so, little princess. You’re coming back with us,” he said as he got much closer to your face. His hot breath fanned more of your skin, making it feel like it is about to melt. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes. Fear began to fill your whole body. 
“Terry,” the younger one spoke up at last, clearing his throat out, “do you think that’s a good idea man? What if she’s lying about what she said and probably in a group with other people? They’ll know if she doesn’t come back and they’ll come looking at the last place she was at. Eventually they’ll come looking for us if anything happens to her.”
Terry? That’s the name of the fucking brute that’s holding onto you by your hair in a tight grip. Then Charlie must be the younger one when his name was called out earlier. They could be related to each other or just comrades in their group. Either way you have to get out of here now and fast.
You could feel his breath getting hotter and hotter as his breathing increased rapidly. “She’s not with anybody else,” he hissed as he turned his head towards Charlie and away from you. His hot breath left your skin quickly and it grew cold once again.
With quick thinking, you had to move your hands slowly into your coat pockets to find the XL can of pepper spray. You remembered that it was in the pocket on the right side of your coat. 
Without making any sudden movements, you very slowly reached into the pocket with your one hand, while the other one held it open a bit. Your fingers touched the tip of the can at last and then your palm snaked its way down onto the canister itself. Grabbing a hold of it now, you slowly pulled it out of the pocket and moved it to the other hand.
It took only a second or two to find the spray trigger on the cap and place two fingers on top of it. Now all you have to do is wait to push it. 
“If she was with somebody else, we would’ve known when we got here. Either way, she’s coming back with us and the Commander would know what to do with her.” He sounded very serious. Whoever this Commander person is, they’ll kill you for stealing their stuff from their now claimed territory.
“She needs to know not to fuck around with us at all and get away with our goodies. We just can’t let her go. She needs to be taught a very big lesson.” That was your que to get ready to run as soon as you push the trigger on the pepper spray can. You ready yourself.
“Okay sweetheart, you’re-” as he turned his head back towards you, you quickly lifted the canister up, pressed the trigger, and sprayed it directly into his eyes.
He let out a long yell once it hit him straight in the face, lifting his tight grip from your ponytail, and went to cover his face with both hands. The spray would temporarily blind him, making your escape much easier to get out of this fucking place.
Quickly, you shrugged off your backpack, sprang up from the floor, and ran like a bat out of hell as fast as you could. You could hear the asshole that grabbed you crying out very loudly in pain from the pepper spray that was making his eyes burn. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, IT BURNS. I CAN’T FUCKING SEE. MY EYES WON’T OPEN,” his voice echoing off of the ceiling, making it bounce everywhere.
“GO AND GET THAT FUCKING BITCH, BEFORE SHE ESCAPES!” Shit. You have to get out of here faster before you get caught and won’t be able to get away from them again.
Thinking very fast, you decided to run in a zigzag line through the aisles, in order to confuse the other one. Your heart started to race again in your chest, as you made your way through the aisles. Both of your feet picked up more speed as you made sharp turns towards the end of each aisle, making your way back to the front entrance of the store.
Passing the last aisle, you’ve found your way back to the front. You felt relieved now, knowing that you were going to get out of here alive. Knowing that you had to leave behind both your backpack and supplies behind, but the only thing you care for the most is your own life.
As you drew closer to the front doors and were about to run through them, something grabbed ahold of your scarf from behind and tugged on it with a very powerful grip. You were once again thrown across the floor and collided with one of the shelves that was near the front.
When your back slammed straight into them, you felt a sharp pain build up like a raging fire and it spread across your body, making you cry out in pain. Then you felt your throat grabbed ahold of, as your scarf was pulled away to expose your pale neck. Slender fingers wrapped around your throat and began to put pressure upon it.
“Do you think that we’re going to let you escape from us? Guess again little bitch, you’re coming back with us either way,” as the pressure on your throat began to increase more, you looked up to see it was the younger one, Charlie, holding you by the throat this time. The street lights casting upon him made him more menacing looking in the darkness of the store. His dark eyes looked like two black coals searing in complete anger.
You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach, knowing that you’re totally fucked now. “Besides, I’m going to have so much fun with you after what you did to my older brother and making you pay for it.” He said, with the utmost glee in his voice.  
Older brother? Shit, you’re doubled fucked now. Nothing comes out good when messing with either older or younger siblings, especially the asshole types. Besides you can still take him on, since you still had the pepper spray can in your hand and it was still full too.
Slowly you lifted your arm up, with your fingers ready at the trigger. Before you could press the trigger and spray him straight into his eyes, he grabbed ahold of your wrist with his other hand. He tightly squeezed his fingers around it with painful pressure. He narrowed his eyes at you, looking more menacing. 
“You think you can do that to me, like you did to my brother? Guess again princess. You don’t get away with shit like that and think you could forget all about it.” His grasp around your neck started to get tighter and tighter, making it more difficult to breathe. You felt your airway starting to close up and began to gasp for air like a fish out of water.
Your chest heaving up and down at a rapid pace, making your heart beat faster and faster like a rabbit. You began to wheeze as the air disappeared from your lungs.
“It’s time for you to fucking pay up princess,” he loosened his grip around your wrist and grabbed the pepper spray from your hand.
“Eye for an eye,” he said as he pointed the cap towards your eyes, ready to pull the trigger. Tears began to flood your eyes again and fell down your cheeks. You tried gasping for more air, but your airway was completely blocked off.
Your vision was blurring away as it got difficult to breathe anymore. This is how you were going to die.
“Well well, what do we have here,” asked a heavy, raspy voice. You felt your heart skip a beat or two when you heard it. The voice sounded menacing, but in a calm way. So calm in fact it was more gentle than rough when it spoke.
Your captor’s eyes went from aggressive to complete fear when he heard the voice too. He widened his eyes, almost to the point of bugging out of his skull. It was almost like he knew who that voice belonged to. Quickly, he spun around to face the hulking figure that stood there in the shadows.
“BANE,” he said with a shriek once he turned around. In the process, the canister slipped out of his hand and dropped to the floor with a metallic thud. His other hand left your throat in a hurry, relieving the pressure from it at last.
You bent over, hacking and coughing air into your lungs. Even when his hand left you, you could still feel its harsh warmth on your bare skin. Almost choking a couple of times, you started to breathe normally again.
Looking up with tears still streaming down your face, you see your capture dropping to his knees and starting to crawl over towards this ‘Bane’ figure. “B-b-b-b Bane, wh-wh-what are y-y-y-you doing i-i-i-in this district,” he stuttered out. You could tell that fear filled every inch of his body.
The figure let out a long, raspy sigh as he looked down upon your capture crawling towards his feet. It looked like he was going to beg for forgiveness from this hulking being.
“I was taking a nice stroll through the snowy weather. Patrolling through the streets of my new domain, until I heard a great commotion coming from here,” he cocked his head to the side. From the sound in his voice, it sounded like he was somewhat agitated. “So do pray tell. Why are you doing here?”
There was great silence for a moment, until you could hear stammering coming from the person that held you by your throat. “W-w-w-we were ch-ch-checking out th-th-the place,” he swallowed hard, while trying to make eye contact. 
“We?” He asked in a calm tone. “M-m-m-my older brother an-an-and I,” he continued on stammering, “our leading commander told both of us to go check out our new piece of territory. We came in here to check on the goods, to see that everything was still in place before taking over.”
Then your captor looked over his shoulder towards where you still were, “then the both of us caught this little bitch hiding out in here and tried to take what’s actually ours.” Afterwards he turned back towards the figure.
The figure sighed another raspy breath, almost sounding like he was disappointed. “Caught her? Then why did she escape from you,” he asked another question, but getting more agitated with his words.
You could tell now that your captor is shaking like a leaf in the wind. Becoming more afraid of this Bane figure. “We did have her. My brother was holding onto her by her hair and talking about the consequences of trespassing into our territory and not to steal our shit. Apparently, she had a can of pepper spray hidden somewhere on her and sprayed my brother with it in his eyes. He couldn’t see anything and was defenseless. He told me to go and get her. That’s what I did. I caught her before she could escape through the doors. I was going to teach her a valuable lesson about what she did to my brother.”
It sounded like he was making himself and his older brother sound like victims rather than criminals and making you look like the bad guy from his perspective. No. Only you were the victim here and both of them were the actual criminals.
A sudden loud noise caught you off guard, making your heart jump a bit. You turned to look over your shoulder to see what was happening, until you saw an arm coming around the corner of the shelf, with the fingers wrapping underneath it. Coming into view, it was the older brother/your other captor. It looked like he got some of the spray out of his eyes, but not all of it. Pepper spray is very powerful shit for self defense.
 “Fuck Charlie, what’s taking you so fucking long? We have to-” He stopped dead center in his tracks as he noticed the hulking figure too. The figure moved his head upward and turned towards where your other captor was standing. He inhaled a very sharp breath when the figure looked over to him now.
 “Ah, you must be this gentleman’s older brother then.” He said, as he shifted in his place a bit. “Bane,” he said as he stepped an inch or two to get a closer look, “what are you doing here in our territory?” He asked with a hint of fear in his voice.
“Territory?” He asked in a more curious tone this time. Your other captor nodded his head. “Yes. Since everybody who stayed in this part of Gotham City abandoned it, our whole crew decided to take it all for themselves, including my little brother and me.”
You could feel there was tension in the air now, as the hulking figure standing in front of all three of you shifted his shoulders and crossed his arms. “What makes you think that this is yours,” he doesn’t sound amused now. 
“There’s nobody else here anymore. This is all ours now for the taking. We deserve all of this.” He said with much glee in his voice. He wasn’t wrong about any of that. Ever since the city was taken over, most of the residents of Gotham have either fled the city or gone someplace else to take shelter, because of the criminals that Batman have put away are loose once again.
“Deserve this?” Bane asked as he tilted his head to the other side. He was getting more agitated with his raspy breathing and starting to lose some of his patience little by little. “No. You don’t deserve any of this. You’re nothing but rats infesting wherever you go and where you shouldn’t be.”
“We are not rats,” he said through his gritted teeth. “We belong up here, not in the fucking sewers hiding out like there’s no tomorrow for us. I am done hiding in the fucking shadows and so is my little brother. Both of us don’t want any more of this.” At this point, you could almost feel his blood boil through his skin.
“Done hiding?” Bane asked as he began to move forward with heavy footsteps, “I have hidden in the darkness for the longest time myself. I was born into it and molded by it. The darkness may be a cruel, twisted, and unforgiving place. But for myself, I find it very peaceful,” he said as he gave out a raspy chuckle.
As Bane got closer and closer with his heavy footsteps, you could feel your back to tense up, just by looking at him. You could barely see what he looked like since there wasn’t enough light coming in through the outside.
He stopped in front of your captor, overtowering him with his tall build. You could hear his breathing increasing rapidly, as Bane stood inches in front of him. Craning his head upward just to look at him. Even after being sprayed in the eyes, fear filled them as tears fell down his face. His whole body trembling were he stood.
As you kept on breathing in more air into your lungs, Bane turned his head over slowly and looked down where you were on the floor. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes through the half lit entryway, they looked more calm than menacing.
“Dear one, did these two hurt you in an ungrateful manner,” he rasped, asking you in a very polite voice. You felt tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes again and a wincing sob escaping through your lips, as you took a deep, painful gasp of air into your lungs.  
“Yes,” you squeaked out like a little mouse and felt your heart drop a bit in your stomach. Bane gave out another raspy sigh, but this time sounded more angry and disappointed. He then turned his head back towards your captor and gave him an angry glare. Your captor swallowed very hard and could hear his breath shaking through his lips.
 “I’m very disappointed with you,” Bane said, as he placed a large hand upon his throat. Your captor shuddered when Bane placed his hand upon his throat, as more fear filled his entire body. It was trembling completely at this point.
A slow crunching noise began as Bane started to squeeze his hand upon your captor’s  throat and within seconds it started to increase more and more with each squeeze.
Your captor began to gasp as pain started to shoot through his whole body. Both of his hands shot up to where Bane’s is and tried to pry it off of him, but with no such luck. He gasped more and more in pain as the sound of bones crunching got louder.
The sound almost made your stomach turn, wanting to vomit just hearing it. The younger brother started to scramble at the distressed sound of his older sibling being hurt.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY BROTHER,” he shouted at the tops of his lungs as he charged towards the hulking being chocking the life the out of his own flesh and blood. He leapt onto Bane’s back and wrapped his arms around his neck.
Not wanting to watch any of this unfold before you, you mustered the courage and what’s left of your strength to run back to the other side of the store. At first you had difficulty getting up off of your own feet, but eventually made the effort from going to a crawl and into a full on sprint. The blood flow rushed back into your legs, giving you back into feeling them once again.
Instead of zigzagging through the aisles like you did the last time, you ran in a straight line all the way back towards the pharmacy where you hid before being found and caught earlier.
The rush made your heart beat faster again as you reached the back of the store. You dov back behind the counter of the pharmacy and found your flashlight still laying on the ground where you left it. After you quickly grabbed it off the floor, you crouched back down into a sitting position with you hugging your knees again with flashlight in hand. It felt like your lungs were on fire, as it was still painful to breathe in air after being nearly choked to death and were about to be sprayed in the eyes with your own self defense weapon.
Farther away, you could hear the comotian of the two brothers and this Bane person. It was very hard to tell if this person is the real Bane or an imposter of him since you don’t know what he really looks like in person. Then the sound of crashing made you break from your thoughts, as you could hear shouting.
“LET GO OF MY BROTHER YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” the younger one screamed at the top of his lungs. Another crashing sound made your racing heart jump against your ribcage. It was louder than the last one. You decided to cover your ears, to muffle out the noise of the fighting.
With your hands over your ears, you could hear your rapid heartbeat rushing to them. You could also hear a slight ringing inside them. Properly from being thrown around a couple of times in the last fifteen minutes.
More shouting and crashing sounds, making you more jumpy than normal. You closed your eyes tightly and tried to block everything out of your mind. Your breathing became more rapid as the fighting increased more and more between the two brothers and the hulking figure Bane.
Another crashing noise came, followed by some more shouting. The shouting was too muffled to hear, with your hands still covering your ears. Besides, you didn’t want to know or find out. Then you heard the sound of running footsteps, disappearing into the distance. Complete silence now.
After a couple of seconds, you slowly opened your eyes back up and then removed both your hands from your ears with a shaky breath. Mustering what’s left of your strength, you lowered your legs back to the floors and slowly lifted yourself back up.
At first you were a bit wobbly, but managed to stand up straight. Your breathing was turning back to normal, but your lungs still hurt a bit.
With your flashlight in hand once again, you slowly walked back to the entrance of the pharmacy and peeked around the corner. Nothing. Looks like you’re all clear.
Quickly, you dashed through the double hinged swinging door and went straight for your backpack you left behind before getting caught again.
As you were about to grab the handle of your backpack, the sound of heavy footsteps made you stop in your tracks as they made their way towards where you were. You scrambled backwards, accidentally tripping over your own feet and fell backwards towards the floor. A white, hot sharp pain surged through you again after landing onto your backside.
Lifting your head up, your eyes widen in prue terror to see the hulking figure coming straight towards you.
You started to crawl backwards at a fast pace and slid across the smooth floor without slipping. You felt your back arch up when you backed into the counter, pressing up against the smooth surface.
At last, the figure’s heavy footsteps stopped several feet in front of you. A lump formed inside of your throat, as your eyes laid upon this large being standing in the darkness.
“Ah, there you are, little mouse.” He said with a small, raspy laugh, “you are in no danger anymore. Those two ungrateful gentlemen are now gone”
It was quite difficult to see what he actually looks like through the shadows. With your flashlight still in hand, you decided to flip the switch on to illuminate the figure in front of you. Pressing your thumb against the switch, you flicked it up and the flashlight came on once again. As the bright light illuminated the darkness at last, your jaw dropped as your eyes widened more at the sight of the hulking figure.
He was tall. Quite tall in fact that he practically overtowers your own height. You were roughly in-between 5’4” to 5’5” in height. From his stature he looks almost six feet tall. He wore what to be military or military type gear such as the vest, but no weapons were on him. A long, winter coat covered his broad shoulders down to his knees. His pale skin glowed within the light, giving off a warm feeling. The one thing that caught you off guard, was his mask.
The mask covered most of his face, wrapping around his clean shaven head. A long leather strap tied around his bald scalp, pressing against the skin tightly. It almost looks like those muzzles for dogs, but this one is designed very differently.Whatever the situation was, it looks like it was especially designed for him.
The one and only thing that made him look so normal looking were his eyes. Bright and beautiful blue eyes. They looked so calm and collected, as they shined very brightly in the light. It was like there was no darkness inside of them, making you feel almost safe.
You felt your heart flutter like a bird inside of your chest, as you continued to look at him. His large chest raised and fell slowly as he looked down upon you. 
“It’s quite all right now. You have nothing to fear little mouse,” as he began to move slowly towards you, you felt your body tense up again as your back arched up against the smooth, wooden counter.
He stopped dead in his tracks just several feet in front of you. Still looking down, he lifted his hands, wrapped them around the shoulder straps of his vest, and tilted his head to the side.
“You still don’t trust me, little mouse?” He asked in a calm manner. You shook your head. Trust him? After what you’ve been through tonight, he wants you to trust him. Though he did save your life, but still, you don’t completely trust him after what he did to the two assholes.
He sighed heavily and slowly closed his eyes. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes back up, removed his hands from the shoulder straps of the vest, and then lowered his hulking body down into a crouching position.
You backed up a little more, with the back of your head nearly pressing up against the counter. Though he was just several feet away from you, it felt like he was much closer. Even with the light still trained upon him, you got a more detailed look of his face.
“Then you better listen, little mouse. Don’t go wandering about this place all by yourself. Many unknown dangers lurk everywhere, even in the darkest corners of the world. Best not to do it again. You may never know who or what may find you.”
The way he said that was somewhat true. Walking by yourself around Gotham city was dangerous enough even before the city got overtaken during the purge. You were always very careful when you were all alone, while walking the streets at night. Still, you could almost feel yourself trembling before this massive human being, even when holding up a flashlight just to look at him.
“Well then, it’s time to be off,” he said as he began to stand back up. He dusted himself off, turned his back towards you, and started to walk away. “Oh and one more thing,” he stopped to look over his shoulder back at you, “it’s best not to meet like this again, because what I’ll do will be very unpleasant. Is that understood, little mouse?” 
“Yes,” you said in a quiet voice and nodded your head. “Good. Best to get out of here while you still can and take what you need. Safe travels home” He turned his head back and continued on walking. The sound of his heavy footsteps faded as he walked away from you. Soon after, the footsteps were gone and so was he.
At last you breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed yourself. You sat there for a moment, thinking about what just happened this night. You were afraid at first that you were going to be killed and never see your parents’ faces again.
But if it weren’t for Bane, you wouldn't be alive right now. You thought more of what he just said to you before disappearing, about him doing something very unpleasant if the two of you ever met like this again. You may never know. Not until the next time the two of you crossed paths.
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To be continued in part 2
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satorsra · 7 months
Text
Chilly
wc: 673
notes: that one interview where gege said that gojo doesn't sleep much/get enough sleep :( when i find you gege.
🎐.ೃ࿐
It’s around that time of year where you go to sleep with the windows open because it’s super hot, and wake up freezing from the chilly early morning air.
And so here you are, despite being under the blanket you feel goosebumps all over your body. There should be a giant white-haired heater next to you, but as you shuffle and feel around for him, you’re met with an empty bed.
You slowly peek your head out from under the covers. The sun hasn’t risen yet so the room is still dark, but you still scan around the room in hopes of finding him. He did tell you that he had a day off today, so where could he be? Did they call him in for some emergency? Maybe he was just in the bathroom. He normally wakes up periodically like this, but doesn’t usually leave until he tells you and places a kiss on your temple.
Your thoughts get interrupted by a sharp breeze that makes your whole body shudder, grabbing your phone and hiding under the covers again.
Where are you?
You sent the message, but contemplate on if you should’ve just called him. Woulda been faster maybe.
[toru <3] Miss me?
Your phone dings as he replies instantly.
Just answer the question please.
[toru <3] Ugh. I’m downstairs, what’s wrong?
What the hell are you doing downstairs? Come back here??
[toru <3] Aw, feeling lonely?
You could see the little “typing” bubble from his end and you already know he’s gonna say something dumb.
I’m freezing, come close the window.
[toru <3] Close it yourself >:(
No :(( plus what’re you even doing, come and sleep.
[toru <3] Can’t though, that’s why I came down here and got myself somethin’ to eat.
You okay?
[toru <3] I’m okay, princess.
Your heart swells at his gentleness, and you start to feel bad for him. He doesn’t get much sleep plus he’s so overworked. You’re about to suck it up and just close the window yourself when he sends another message.
[toru <3} I’m coming btw, want a snack?
You chuckle at him for asking, because only he’d have a snack while most of the world is still sleeping.
Nah just some water, thanks :p
[toru <3] Suit yourself love.
He slowly creeps in the room a minute later, sauntering over to your side of the bed and setting the water down on the side table. “Thanks.” You whisper and lower the blanket so that only the top half of your face is out and he smiles. His soft smile never ceases to make you smile as well. 
Another crisp breeze breaks you two from your trance.
“Crap, it is cold.” He says with an exaggerated shiver and goes over to window to close it.
“All done, can my baby go back to sleep now?” He asks with a grin.
“Yes, but only if you get back in here.” Patting the spot next to you on the bed. He walks over to your side of the bed again and bends down to place a kiss on your cheek. A sweet and gentle action, followed by him doing a somersault over your body and onto his side of the bed, an “oof!” leaving your mouth.
He chuckles. “Sorry baby, couldn’t waste a second. Had to get on the bed asap!” You roll you eyes with a smile at his comment as he pulls the blanket over him.
“D’you wanna try sleeping again? C’mere.” You ask, but it was barely a question since your arms already brought his head down to lay in the crook of your neck, bodies close, and legs tangled.
You lazily run your fingers though his hair, earning you a low hum in satisfaction. “Keep doing that and I might just.” He mumbles against your skin.
So you keep at it despite the sleep tugging at your eyes. You’d stay awake for hours if it meant he could sleep even another minute. But you know he would do the same for you.
✎ canada weather is so annoying fr.
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