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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Pizza Box Puzzle Pieces - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake is a responsible drinker, he swears. But when you're stuck being responsible for the night, a very drunk Jake gives you all but one piece to a puzzle you don't complete until the morning after.

Contents/Warnings: drinking, fem!reader, typical hangman behavior, enemies to lovers (really more like rivals to lovers)

Requested: A thousand times congratulations on such an amazing milestone! Could I please have an espresso w. enemies to lovers with Jake ‘hangman’ Seresin? ☀️ - @saintlike78 THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE SEPTEMBER I AM SO SORRY MY LOVE i hope you still like hangman <3

WC: 5.3K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Jake Seresin is a responsible drinker. He keeps a rideshare app on his phone, he tells Bob (the permanent sober babysitter) that he needs to be cut off after 10:00 PM, and he gives Penny his keys before he even orders his first drink.

Tonight, though, she'd left them unattended. There they were, shiny and appealing, sitting on the bar. She had left to get a clean dishrag, he could just take them! Driving sounded fun now, less of a chore and more of an adventure now that his brain was blurry.

You watch Jake's eyes widen as he catches sight of his keys, and your hand darts out to snag them before he can. His reflexes are slow, and when he reaches for them, his hand hits empty counter space.

He looks around, bewildered. They'd just disappeared.

"Here, Bagman." You jingle the keys in your hand, and he catches the sound from the few seats down where he's sitting. His eyes drift aimlessly over to your hand, and brighten at the sight of his keys.

"Thanks," He drawls, his southern lilt far more noticeable now that he's running on autopilot, "I'm gonna-" he hiccups hard, his chest bouncing, "Head home."

He stands, wobbly on his feet, and treads forwards to take the keys from you. You raise them above your head, but he doesn't follow, instead slumping forwards as his hand grasps at thin air. His head hits your chest and Coyote catches your eye from over Jake's shoulder. You widen your eyes, flaunting the keys you'd managed to snatch from him.

All the pilot does is laugh, and then his attention is shifted back to the dartboard. Typical.

"Jesus," You grunt, pushing at Jake's chest. He straightens up again, eyes blinking open from where they'd been shut, "What did you drink?"

"I don't remember," He admits, and that's all the explanation you need.

"Come on," You reach for his pocket, his phone sticking out, "Let's call you a ride."

"Nooo," He darts away, almost too late to evade you, "That's my phone."

"Yes Hangman," You smirk, "I think you're smarter drunk than you are sober."

"But that's-" He fumbles with his cell, "You can't touch my phone."

"I want to get you home," You urge, once more reaching for the device in his hands, "Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"You can't have it," He insists, yanking the waistband of his khakis off of his stomach and slipping his phone dangerously close to his crotch, "Unless you-" Another hiccup that flutters his eyelashes, "-wanna take it."

The smirk he shoots you after shoving his phone down his pants contains lethal cockiness. You're surprised the sheer size of his ego doesn't knock you down, you're not sure how you're standing so close to him without running into it.

You glance down at his phone. It's protruding just enough from his waistband for it to be quick and easy to grab. But your hand has never been that close to Jake's dick before, and you're hoping it never will be.

"Fuck," You deflate, shoulders slumping as your fingers curl tighter around his keys, "Come on, I'm driving you."

"Take my car," He insists, as if he's forgotten you have his keys, "It's.. It's really cool."

"Can't wait," You gripe, slinging his arm around your shoulders, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, Seresin."

The cold night air hits you like a tsunami. It floods your thin shirt and seeps into your bones, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You've never known it to get this cold here, and the skin-to-skin that Jake's shoulder provides against your own is your only warmth.

You prop him up against his car while you fumble with the keys, but before you can click the 'unlock' button, he's snatching them from you.

"I wanna- I wanna do it," He insists, gripping the pointed end and bumping it up against the panel on the outside of the keyhole, "It's my car, I wanna.. do it."

You give him a minute to figure out the key. After it passes you yank it from where he's been pathetically butting it up against the hole, still confused about how to slot it inside.

"Gimme," You grumble, sliding the key into the hole with barely a second's delay, "You're too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk." He scoffs. He says it with so much sincerity, with so much raw belief, that you're surprised that it doesn't come into existence. You're surprised the alcohol doesn't drain from his system completely, and leave him his usual coordinated, upright self. But he's still leaning against his car, half-coherent and dizzy.

"Right." You chuckle, throwing open the driver's side door and unlocking the rest of the car, "Get in, Hangman."

He starts for your seat and you shove him away, "No, not the driver's seat," You groan, "Other side."

He starts for the backseat.

"For fuck's sake," You exclaim, grabbing his bicep to lead him around the car, "The passenger's side!"

You get him wrestled into his seat with no further drunken antics, and you relish the fact that you've gotten him calm for the night. He's anything but when you finally glance up at his face, though, great big tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"You're mean." He whispers, his voice shaky. You've never seen such a pitiful sight, his big green eyes brimming with anguish that seeps down his cheeks in rivers of tears. "You grabbed me, and-" He waves his bicep at you, "And you manhandled me," He gushes, angst-stricken, "You're mean!"

"I'm sorry," You sigh, playing into his inebriated sorrow, "Are you okay, Hangman?"

He doesn't note the sarcasm in your voice, sniffling pathetically, "No. It hurts."

You offer a quick pat to the affected area, but he shakes his head.

"Kiss." He offers in explanation, 'Kiss it better."

"I am not going to-" You begin, rage evident in your voice. Then you glance back up at his eyes, filled with new tears.

It's a staring contest for a moment, but you break first. You hunch, bracing yourself for the most humiliating thing you've ever had to do when you pucker your lips and press them into his bicep.

It's firm. Fuck, you wish it wasn't, it holds up under your lips and warms them. It's intoxicating, your lips on his skin, so close to his chest. It's exhilarating. You have to get away.

"There." You grouse, practically glaring at him despite the blush at your cheeks as you straighten, "Better?"

"Yes," He whimpers, and it's small, broken, pathetic, "Thank you."

You shut the door without another word, letting him wipe his own tears.

His car is surprisingly nice. Where you'd expect fast food wrappers and condoms, you find an air freshener.

He grabs it excitedly, shoving it into your face as you start down the road, "Darlin' you gotta- gotta smell! It smells like ocean breeze."

It slips over your eyes and you strain to get away from it, "Okay, Hangman, okay! It smells very nice," You gush, giving him the attention he's seeking. He preens proudly as he hooks it around his mirror once more, but he doesn't settle into his seat.

"Those are cool jeans," He prods a finger at your thigh, and even though you know it's drunken rather than lustful, his touch makes you shiver.

"They were five dollars," You humor him, feeling him fiddle carefully with the ripped strands of fraying string showcasing your skin.

"Cheap." He murmurs, concentration far too heavy on rearranging the strings. Half of them have ripped beyond repair from where they were stretched over your thigh, but he seems to be playing with them like they're yarn to a housecat. You have the sudden urge to run a hand through his hair and see if he purrs.

"My house is that way," Jake points blearily through the windshield down a one-way street, "It's the big blue one."

"You live in an apartment," You turn the wheel in the opposite direction, "And it's not blue, and it's not that way."

"Oh so you-" He hiccups, "-know where I live?"

"I do," You nod, keeping your eyes on the road even when his fingers keep pawing at your jeans, "I've been there before. Remember? We had a movie night."

"Oh yeah," He nods, brow furrowed, "Payback spilled his water on my carpet."

"Not water," You snort, remembering the cheap liquor spilled over the shag, "But yeah, he did."

There's a bout of silence that follows your words, shadows ripping through the car as you pass beneath trees. The road is paved unevenly in a few spots, and Jake's car bounces on its tires.

"Woah," He grumbles, head bumping your shoulder after a particularly raucous pothole, "Look! Look they're in a- a heart."

You slow to a stop in front of his apartment and glance down to where his finger is digging into your thigh. The loose strings on your jeans have all been twisted and tied into a heart that overlays the rip, puffy and frayed where it rests against your leg.

"Oh," You let the sincerity of the gesture steal the breath from your lungs, even if it does come out of a drunk man, "That's pretty, Hangman. Thanks."

You unlatch your seatbelt, breaking his trance. The heart, tied at the bottom and woven through other strands at its apexes, stays tightly knotted into your jeans, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get it out. It's the last of your concerns, though, as Jake fumbles with his own seatbelt.

He finally jabs just right at the button, though it's after a string of mumbled frustrations. You swear you hear something along the lines of "You're pretty." thrown into the mix, but you choose to ignore it so that your hands don't get sweaty. You probably misheard.

It's a wonder that he's able to get himself out of the car. He lands with a crunch of gravel onto the driveway of his apartment, feet planted firmly beneath him. You suppose he might have sobered slightly during the long, quiet drive, and you're just glad you don't have to press him to yourself anymore to keep him upright.

Thankfully, he knows which door is his, but he forgets that you have his keys. You keep a hand stuffed into your pocket, curled around them, while he fumbles in his pocket for them.

“Damn,” He hisses, patting his pockets and coming up empty, “My- my keys are gone. I think someone took them, we have to-”

“I have your keys,” You’re far too smug as you hold them up, the ring hooked over your middle finger, “Remember? That’s why I drove?”

“Oh.” His brows furrow, and the word adorable flashes through your head before you can stop it. As soon as you acknowledge it, though, it’s gone in a puff of smoke.

“I’ll do it.” You carefully shoo his hands away from the door, slipping the key in and turning it. His apartment is neat, you’ll give him that, but you suppose it’s because he doesn’t have time to mess it up. You toe off your shoes in the doorway, leaving them in a heap which he contributes to. His boots are going to muck up your white wedges, but you can’t care about that right now. What’s more important is making sure Hangman doesn’t head straight for his own liquor stash, which of course, he does.

“No,” You rush for the bottle he’s about to grab, “You’re cut off for the night. Remember?”

“No,” His brow furrows, and he stares at your fingers wrapped around his own against the neck of the bottle, “I don’t.”

At least you know he’s being honest. You pry his hand off of the bottle, setting it back on the counter and letting go of his fingers. You expect them to drop but they don’t, they curl around your own and slot your palms together.

You stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand still enveloping yours in a gesture that sends heat rushing up from your fingertips and straight to your heart. You glance down first, then up at him, finding a gooey, lovesick smile on his face paired with empty eyes.

“Hi, darlin’.” He gushes, and squeezes your hand.

Fuck.

“Okay, bedtime.” You decide, trying to pry your hand out of his grip. He won’t let you, though, the more you pull the closer he gets. Until he’s pressed to you, his right thigh to your left, chest-to-chest, smiling contently at you.

If you can’t make him let go, you suppose you can move. So you do, you lead him through the short hallway, and flick the light on in his bedroom. His room is.. less neat. There’s clothes on the floor, and what looks dangerously like an old pizza box sticking out from under the bed. You decide to ignore it for time’s sake, your main goal is to get Jake into bed before he tips over.

He looks close to it now, stumbling towards his nightstand to snatch a necklace off of it. It’s a delicate silver chain, and there’s a pretty heart pendant on it.

“Look,” He shows it off, “‘S my mom’s. She gave it to me before I came down here.”

“That’s very sweet,” You croon, and all of a sudden you want to know more about Mama Seresin, “I think I’d like to see you wear that someday, Hangman.”

“That’d look silly.” He muses, eyes shiny as they rove over the charm, finally putting it down to look back at you, “But if you’d really like it I’ll do it.”

You suppose that if anything comes out of his drunken stupor, it’ll be a hell of a lot of blackmail material. Apparently he’s blabby when drunk, and you’ll definitely ask why he’s not wearing his mom’s necklace tomorrow when you meet for breakfast.

“Okay, Jake, let’s get you changed.” You hum, glancing around his room and peering apprehensively at his dresser. You turn back, intent on asking him which drawers you should avoid opening, and are met with-

“Jake! Put- put your pants back on!”

Your hands fly to your eyes to shield yourself from the sight of Jake Seresin’s Uncovered Crotch, but you forget that he’s still clinging tight to you, and he stumbles along with you. All you can do is let out a strangled cry as his outer thigh presses against yours, praying nothing else will.

“Put your boxers back on,” You beg, “And- and get into pajamas! Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Jake giggles, far too inebriated to read the room, “That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you,” You groan, and finally, he lets go of your hand.

There’s absolute silence for too long, but just before you can urge him to hurry up and get dressed, he speaks.

“You do?”

HIs voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it. Jake has a particular talent for boasting, and his voice often bleeds confidence, loud and strong and clear. Now it’s small, unsure and weak.

“Get dressed,” You huff, “With pants, please.”

You’re not eager to admit it, but you don’t hate him. Not at all. Sure, he annoys you, but he annoys everyone. He shoves confetti through the slats in your locker so that opening it triggers a snowstorm, he steals food from your plate when his own is nearly full, and he always, always knocks his knuckles against your helmet. But he’s never mean, he’s never insulted you or pushed you or demeaned you. So you can’t find it in yourself to hate him, even if you don’t always like him.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you bite back a smile when you find confetti on the ground, and maybe you bend over with your back to him just in case he likes what he sees. Maybe you steal his food right back, and maybe the best part of your day is when you make it a competition, and he practically crawls over Fanboy to try to nab a piece of your orange chicken. Maybe the rapping of his knuckles on your helmet makes you want to respond by bumping it against his chest, an urge you’ve never dared to act on.

Feigning hatred is much easier, you’ve found, than admitting love.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, still devoid of its usual enthusiasm, “I’m dressed.”

You let your hands fall to your sides with a relieved sigh, and though your vision is somewhat bleary from being covered for so long, you work with it, blinking until you can see his form, already under the covers on his bed and facing away from you.

“Okay,” You hum awkwardly, glancing around the room, “You’re gonna need medicine in the morning. And water, so-”

“Pills are in the bathroom cabinet, there’s a cup on the counter.” He drawls, voice muffled by his pillow.

You bustle off to gather those, and when you reenter his bedroom you find him staring at the wall. It’s a sad expression, an empty one, but you suppose that’s what binge drinking does to a man.

“I’m gonna head out,” You speak to his back, setting the pills and glass down on his nightstand, “Are you.. gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He hums, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” You mumble, more than ready to flee the awkward scene, “Bye, Jake.”

“Do you really hate me?”

You freeze in the doorway, heart thudding in your chest. You turn slow, your eyes meeting Jake’s before your body faces him, giving you enough time to figure out a response.

“No,” You speak carefully, “I- I was just teasing, Jake. I don’t hate you.”

“You’re sure?” He peers up anxiously at you, looking more like a scared child than a naval aviator, “You really don’t?”

“I’m sure,” You nod, gracing him with a soft smile to soothe his nerves, “I don’t hate you, Jake.” “Okay,” He breathes, his frown flattening out into a neutral expression as his eyes drink you in, “Thanks, Y/N. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” You promise, and you mean it more than you’ll let on, “Get some rest, Jake, we’re meeting for breakfast at nine tomorrow.”

He nods, and that’s your cue to leave. Your shoes are still by the door, and you slip them on, fiddling with the straps. When you straighten up from where you’d hunched over you spot Jake’s keys where you’d left them on his entryway table, and realize he won’t know where they are in the morning. You don’t want him to panic, so you scoop them up, knowing that his door auto-locks behind him as a part of the apartment’s security features. You’ll be able to leave without the keys, and he won’t be at risk overnight.

You pad quietly back into his room, intent on setting the keys by the glass of water and leaving. But you realize that he’s already asleep, the magic of booze eliciting soft, even breaths from him that ricochet off of the pillow he’s smushed against and blow his hair back. You stifle a giggle at the sight, and pride yourself for how much self control it takes not to record it.

You set the keys down, and your heel catches on the pizza box beneath his bed. Your nose wrinkles, and you decide there’s no good reason for Jake to be keeping old food under his bed, of all places.

You pick it up and it feels nearly empty, prompting confusion on your part. Pizza is not weightless.

Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t, but you decide to flip the lid open. You brace the box on his nightstand and pop the top, your eyes landing on a collection of memorabilia inside, not cheese and bread.

You recognize a chubby baby as Jake himself, a slightly aged photo that looks delicate. You bite back a soft smile, but decide that his baby pictures are none of your business, fingers ghosting over the lid to shut it once more now that you know he’s not hoarding Papa John’s beneath his mattress.

Just before the lid closes, your heart stops. Your eyes catch a picture of just about the last face you’d ever expect to see in a pizza box under Jake Seresin’s bed: your own. It’s a picture of you talking to Payback, eyes shut and crinkled at the corners, mouth open in a laugh you’re sure was less-than-graceful at whatever the other aviator had said. You pick the photo up, pushing away a jewelry box that’s lying on top of its corner, and finding dozens more of your squadron beneath it. There’s one flipped on its front, and Jake’s scrawled sharpie over it, ‘Rooster being dumb. 6-07-2022.’

Upon inspection, the photo is of Bradley making a fool of himself. He’s halfway to the ground, foot caught in the sand as he topples over. You remember that day, you’d all laughed when he’d emerged with a mustache-full of sand.

You flip the photo of yourself, brows furrowing when the description is less-than-understandable.

‘Third time. 5-03-2021.’

Third time.. Third time you’d… laughed at Payback’s jokes? Definitely not, he’s quick on his toes and surprisingly witty.

Thumbing through each photo of you and your friends, the descriptions are all simple. ‘Natasha losing a bet’ showcases her rare defeated look, and of course Jake would have that documented. ‘Fanboy exhaling lemonade’ is self-explanatory, the substance shooting out of his nose in response to the Bradley-Sand-Mustache incident. The only ones you can’t figure out are your own, ‘First time. 4-25-2020’, ‘Second time. 10-10-2020’, and even, ‘Relapse. 9-14-2022;.

For the life of you, you can’t figure them out. You realize that you’ve been sifting through Hangman’s personal possessions far longer than you should have been, stuffing them all back inside the pizza box and sliding it beneath his bed. Something strange and confusing clouds your brain as you make your way to the front door, and you barely remember to listen for the click of the automatic lock when you leave.

Your apartment isn’t far from Jake’s, it’s only a few streets down, and you’d hitched a ride with Omaha to the Hard Deck anyways. You won’t make him pick you up to drive you three blocks.

There’s something infuriating about knowing that Jake writes about you in code. It’s like a mental game, and you’re losing. You ponder it all the way back to your apartment, and you dig your own keys out of your pocket to get yourself inside.

Your determination to figure Jake’s code out only transforms into insomnia, and you fall asleep at nearly three in the morning, alarms set for five hours ahead, wondering if you’ll ever find out what they mean.

Surprisingly, for how you’d left him last night, Jake is the first one to show up to Team Breakfast. Your typical spot at the local cafe is inhabited by none other than Hangman, checking his watch to see how late everyone was running so far.

“You’re here early,” You marvel, and his head shoots up to meet your gaze. He grins sheepishly, nodding, “I had too much of a headache to go back to sleep.”

“Oooh,” You laugh, “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Reckon’ I drank a lot last night?” He asks, already grimacing in expectation of your response.

You take a particular pleasure in nodding, “You tried kissing Bradley.”

He hadn’t, at least, not on this particular occasion. Rooster has gotten his fair share of Drunk Hangman Love, as have you all, but this time he’d stayed away from anything too intimate.

“Shit,” Hangman grimaces, screwing his eyes up and plunking his chin to his chest, “I thought you said Bob was gonna start watching out for that?”

“He did,” You snort, “He saw it about to happen, and left before you could do it to him. He watched out for himself.”

Jake mumbles something, probably along the lines of ‘typical’, but it’s as he raises his head again, and the glint of something silver at his neck catches your eye. You squint, hard, glimpsing a familiar heart-shaped pendant pressed to his chest and outlined beneath his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, “The necklace! You’re really wearing it.”

He bites back a smirk and fits his lips to the rim of his water glass instead, “I told you I’d wear it. I’m no chicken.”

“Send a picture to your mom,” You suggest, “Tell her you’ve got her heart with you.”

His smile dims, something apprehensive in his eyes.

“You went through the box under my bed last night, didn’t you?”

You still at the question, your eyes wide, “What?”

“I heard you,” He admits, “I’m- I’m not mad, or anything. I just.. I know you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Even if he’s not upset, you feel awkward, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar, “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” He shakes his head, reaching back for the clasp on the necklace, “It was your business. Is, if..” He hesitates, face screwed up in concentration.

“Y/N,” He finally continues, necklace now pinched between his fingers, “This isn’t my mom’s.”

“Oh?” You pry cautiously, “Who’s is it, then?”

“Yours.” He admits, and your brows furrow.

“It’s not mine, I’ve never had one like that. I- I guess someone must have left it at your apartment or something, maybe Phoenix?”

“No,” He sighs, eyes screwed shut, “I mean- I mean I bought it for you.”

“You,, you bought that necklace.. for me?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “Did you see the box in there?”

You nod, recalling the teal case.

“I bought it for you for your birthday last year. Chickened out before I could give it to you, though. That’s why I had to give you half a bottle of whiskey.”

His lackluster birthday present made a lot more sense now.

“I know you saw the pictures I’ve got of you,” He continues, keeping his eyes on the pendant of the necklace that he’s pressing against his thumb, “I just thought.. I’d get everything off my chest.”

“First time..” You recall, and he raises his eyes to you questioningly.

“The pictures of me,” You prompt him, “On the back, you had little.. notes? Captions? Whatever, they said first time, second time, third time, relapse. What did those mean?”

He stares at you, the prolonged eye contact making you squirm.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” He asks, just as timid as he had the night before.

“Jake- of course I don’t hate you!” You promise, “Just- tell me, please?”

“They’re every time I fell in love with you.” He murmurs, and your entire world stops spinning. You’ve built it carefully on a foundation of Jake-directed sarcasm and a healthy distance away from your fellow aviator, and when the word ‘love’ slips from his lips the foundation crumbles. You feel everything collapse, every witty comeback, every dramatic eye-roll, every logical pushback. Nothing remains, except love. The word, the feeling, the sound of it coming from his mouth.

Apparently the demolition of your entire world takes too much time. Jake cringes, tucking the necklace into his fist and going to pocket it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I should have just shut my mouth. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget this, and-”

“Stop,” You reach for his hand, covering his closed fist with your open palm, “Give me the necklace.”

He unfurls his hand, slowly, unsurely. His eyes linger on you, and he watches as you carefully scoop the jewelry from his palm, your fingers delicately brushing over the heart.

“You really love me?” You verify, keeping your eyes on the silver charm so that if this is some sick joke, you won’t see him break the facade. You won’t see the adoration in his eyes turn to mockery, the love to hatred.

“I really do,” He promises, “And I know that I’m not the best at communicating that…”

“What with the constant teasing and badgering?” You glance up at him for the first time since his confession, your view of his face obscured by your lashes.

“Yeah,” He grimaces, “That.”

“Can I be honest with you, Jake?” You bite the inside of your cheek, regretting admitting what you’re about to say before you’ve even said it.

“Yeah,” He breathes, and you think he expects the worst.

“I kind of like it,” You admit, and his frown breaks.

“I knew it,” He gloats, his grin wide and bright, “I knew there was a reason you never say anywhere I couldn’t steal your food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You groan, closing your fist around the necklace, “I haven’t responded to your confession yet, have I, Seresin? Don’t get too cocky.”

As much as you’re teasing him, he takes it seriously. His grin dims, and his eyes soften, worry pooling in his irises.

“I..” You start, eyes on the heart that still lies in the rips of your jeans instead of his own gaze, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” You think you’re starting to like his voice when it’s not brash and cocky, instead sincere and a little timid.

“I do,” You nod, glancing back up at him, “And.. I don’t really know what to do about that. I tried to ignore it, because we work together, and because I wasn’t sure you liked me back, but.. I do love you, Jake.”

“That,” He smiles, real and genuine, “Is something I’ve wanted to hear you say for years, darlin;.”

“Well. you should thank your inebriated self last night,” You laugh, letting him take the necklace from your fist and unclasp it, “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, and I may or may not have seen your penis.”

“That’s.. not something I remember.” Jake grimaces, pausing with the necklace open in his hands, “Was it.. I mean- did you.. like it?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” You advise Jake, leaning forwards so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, “I’m not talking about your dick at brunch with our friends.”

“They’re not here yet,” He murmurs, and when you lock eyes, you take in the fact that he’s only inches from your face.

There’s a soft click as he clasps the necklace against the base of your hairline, then he drops it to your neck. The chain is cold, but Jake’s hands are warm where they smooth over your cheeks. You let your lashes flutter shut, lips already slightly puckered, waiting for the press of his own over them. You can’t be but a hair’s breadth away from kissing Jake when a shrill scream comes from the parking lot, and your eyes snap open with a start.

You turn, but he doesn’t release your face, instead pressing his cheek to yours as you both look for the culprit. It’s not Natasha you find with her hands clamped over her mouth, but Rooster, though the former is smirking.

“We carpooled,” She informs you, elbowing Bradley in the side, “We were only five minutes late, and you guys have already sucked face?”

“I gave her the necklace,” Hangman reaches over to show off the charm around your neck, “I, uh- asked for Phoenix’s help buying it. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Thanks,” You laugh sheepishly, though you’re not sure who you’re talking to. Maybe both of them, “Uh, is that Fanboy’s car?”

It is, tires crunching against spare bits of asphalt as he turns into the parking lot.

“Coyote’s in there, too,” Hangman groans, pulling back from where you’d been smushed together, “Let’s hope they didn’t see.”

“Oh, we’ll tell them,” Natasha promises, and her laugh can only be described as maniacal, “They each owe me $20, they thought she’d say no.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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occamstfs · 2 months

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Legacies Are Supposed To Change

Another fratification, This is one more of a prep to slob tf ! -Occam

My father was a member of Kappa Epsilon Gamma, and my grandfather before him was practically a founding member. I am going to be the third generation Astor to not only pledge but eventually become president. My family donates enough to the chapter to more than pave my way to the top. My only question now is, why are they making me pledge.

The current president, James, clearly didn’t care for me implying that I was getting in regardless, stopping just short of calling me out in front of the other pledges. That’s the only mistake he’s going to make though, when I’m in the frat I’ll completely clean house. That dunce will be lucky to even still be in the frat. I’m already old enough to be the president anyway, I’m sure my father will help the other alumni to agree.

Despite the president’s protests I have already secured a room in the house and I will say the room does seem to be exquisite. The only detail out of place is a pitcher of beer sitting on my desk. The head is still frothy so it must have been put there recently. Before I moved in my father warned me against partying too hard, we have a reputation to uphold after all, and I am not even a big drinker.

The amber pitcher in front of me, ice cold without a piece of ice within, is more enticing than it ever should be though. The president must have done something to it. Absolutely. But, I am awfully parched all of a sudden. I feel my mouth rapidly dry as I move closer to inspect the glass. A sip couldn’t hurt, it’s just beer after all. It’s probably that faux president admitting defeat already, no one can stand up to an Astor and prosper after all.

I raise the pitcher to my mouth, struggling to raise it without spelling as it is heavier than I thought beer could be. The head spills over my face as I tilt the pitcher to drink. It runs down my cheeks and off my chin not that I could notice or care though. This beer is unlike anything I’ve tasted before. It's so, I need more right now. I force as much of it as I can down my throat before needing to take a break to breathe. The brief respite only gives me time to do something I thought unthinkable for a man of such poise as myself, I let out an impossibly loud burp.

I hear frat bros cheering outside my room in response “Yeah bro! Let’s go Tank!” I feel my face redden from the embarrassment of being heard doing something so profoundly basal. I scoff and roll my eyes as I notice how itchy my face suddenly is. It must be the beer starting to dry where I spilled it.

I go to wipe it off and notice it is far scratchier than it has any right to be. It burns even. I feel my face grow an even deeper shade of red as the beer must start to hit my system. I put the pitcher down and start to scratch my cheeks. I’ve never even had to shave before! Us Astor men don’t even grow peach fuzz! It would be unbecoming to even try to grow a beard! I look in the mirror to assess whatever my situation and find an uncomfortable face staring back at me. That can’t be right. Thick brown hair is pushing out forming a chinstrap that must have taken months to grow! I lean in closer to inspect my face as another burp tries to force its way out of my throat.

Unwilling to embarrass myself once again I fight to keep it down. As I struggle against the gas in my esophagus I notice that my stomach is starting to bloat up. I see the thick brown hair in my beard start to seep up through my sideburns, staining my perfect blonde coifs into some dirty oafish brown. I gasp as my thin eyebrows rapidly burst into heavy caterpillars over my eyes which almost allows the burp to escape.

Clenching my jaw as I feel my stomach starts to press against my dress shirt. I audibly groan as I hear my bros outside start to cheer once more, something about me drinking the pitcher. They left it for me didn't they! What was I supposed to do! This burst of rage allows me to swallow the burp my neck thickening as it forces its way back down. I look down to see the button pop off of my suit jacket as my stomach starts to grumble. I feel woozy watching my torso start to barrel out, what happened to my lithe lacrosse build? My mind feels heavy as I inspect my growing body, I start to smell some vile body odor start to come from somewhere. One of these oafs absolutely needs to invest in cologne. I sniff around before my head finds itself in my own pit as I take a deep inhale and find the root of the stick. But that can’t be right?

My arms bloat out straining my dress shirt as I toss off my coat. I raise my arm behind my head to inspect my armpits further which creates a tear right on the seam, exposing my pit just in time for me to see my few blonde underarm hairs rapidly thicken to the same brown now covering my face. It’s almost funny? I can barely stop myself from laughing as I watch hair spread like a jungle in my pit, creating a haven for odor my body now apparently produces.

Is this because I burped? Is it some kind of sick joke? I’m struggling to find any reason for what is happening when I hear the zipper of my pants give out. Apparently my stomach isn't the only part of me bloating. I need to stop this. Maybe, maybe if I finish the beer without burping again I’ll go back to normal. That, that makes sense right?

I quickly grab the picture and do not notice how much thicker my hand is. Brown hairs sprouting on my hand and knuckles as my fingers grow hammy and lose the dexterity I have long honed. As I raise the glass to my face my stomach finally blows off the buttons as a thick treasure trail forms a peak halfway up my meaty torso. My body odor grows thicker in the air as I start to drink the rest of the glass.

I feel my ass thicken as it forms a much weighter cushion in my seat, in the other side I feel as my balls rapidly grow to supply my body with the testosterone my body demands. My cock thickens but gets no longer as the beer dribbles down my face spilling all over my chest where curly dark hair spreads out from the center in a large diamond.

I finish the pitcher and shout to celebrate my conquest, “I did it fuckers! I passed the test,” as I shatter the pitcher on the floor of my bedroom, one of the pledges’ll clean that shit up anyway.

I stand and rip the strained pants off my body as the shirt tears itself off of its own accord, no longer able to even try to hide my party bod. My bros burst into the room and start cheering “Tank, Tank, Tank!” Making me realize that duh, they’re talking about me. My bros have always called me that I burp again, now performativity as my body finishes changing. My eyes lose any pretentious sparkle they still held as they darken to a dull brown. My vocal chords grow visibly thicker, just showing from underneath the thick beard hanging off my face. A clear boner starts to grow in my shorts, not like my bros care.

I shake my package at them with my hand as I finish burping. Now that I’m in the frat I can show my bros that I’m not a fuckin’ prude like my dad and the other fuckin’ geezers. It’s gonna be a great year, now let’s go see which of these bitch pledges are Kappa material!

#male tf #masculinization #mental change #frat bro tf #jockification

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veintrry · 1 year

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I could make you more than a drink.

bartender!scaramouche x gn!reader, flirting, teasing.

an: I saw a bartender do cool tricks and I was like, "fuck, that's hot." so here i am.

@/AraAraImpact on twt

After a painfully exhausting day of working at a place that does nothing to satisfy you emotionally, you go to a bar on your way home, contrary to your usual self. However, this change brings a catalyst of difference into your life in the form of the violet-eyed bartender that serves you.

The sun was just setting down as you departed from your work and you found yourself exhausted as always. You didn't really have a job you loved, to you a job was just that, a job. It didn't have to be something you liked as long as it paid the bills, but you'd be lying if you had said it wasn't tiresome.

You weren't a common customer at pubs or bars around your town, you weren't much of a drinker, it wasn't really up your alley. Though, you couldn't deny that sometimes you wanted something that would hit you so strong you'd forget about anything prior to that moment. And that's why you were here, taking a seat on the black cushioned high chair, letting out a worn out sigh.

"No need to sigh so loud."

A somewhat annoyed voice pipes up, and when you meet the owner of the voice he rolls his eyes at you. "Oh, my apologies, did I bother you?" Sarcasm laces your voice as you rest your head on the back of your hand. "You did." He wore a stone faced look, his facial muscles never budging except for his eyes that narrowed onto you the more you spoke. "So sorry." You smiled, and he could tell how cheap you were being. Whatever, he'll move on. "What do you want?"

"Dark and Stormy." You answer, and watch his brow rise in question at your request, "Who ruined your day?" It could've merely been that you werent well acquainted with drinks and merely chose whatever sounded the coolest or bitter, but he found it oddly aligned with your disheveled self. It's not like he didn't notice how overworked you appeared when you entered, but it's not like he cared to think much of it. "Wouldn't you like to know." A hum leaves you, amused as you are. He didn't continue prying.

You wonder if your personality is more teasing whenever you are feeling worse. Though you don't really care enough to focus on that when you have the man before you picking up a smaller shaker and flicking a larger one off the bar side, flipping it in the air to catch it upright with his free hand. You always forget how easily entertained you are by these tricks. He takes a peek at you, taking note of your amusement. You were so simple, but he'd indulge you.

He sets the shakers down, instead pulling out three bottles with a spin before tossing each one into the air, and beginning to juggle them. How he has the confidence to do so you don't know, but he must be extremely qualified to be behind that bar or at least had been here for a long time. You could hear some 'ooh's and 'ah's by some other customers whilst others seemed used to it. Maybe you'll try it when you go home, although you really shouldn't.

Catching the bottles, the tip inbetween his fingers he sets two down, picking up the jiggler by his side and twirling it before pouring the liquid into it and then dumping that into the shaker. He repeats the act a couple of times till he starts squeezing fresh orange juice to pour in as well. He puts the lid on and starts shaking it up near the side of his head, giving you time to admire him and get a proper look at him.

His chest rose with each breath he took, you saw how his mouth would open in to take a deep inhale at times. He wss a great bartender but he wasn't the biggest fan of crowds. You now strangely notice how the sleeves of his black tight shirt are rolled up, the lines of his triceps now becoming apparent and you don't miss how well built his lower arm is.

He sets the shakers down, breaking you out of your thoughts. And he smirks at you almost mischievously. He knew.

He begins pouring the drink, and somehow it only dawns on you now that this isn't what you ordered as he sets it down. "What's the big idea?"

"You shouldn't be having something so bitter."

"Oh? And you're dictating that?"

"I am." It's best for you.

You shot him a glare, but he merely shrugged seemingly unbothered and went back to serving other customers.

Time passed yet you paid no regard to it, too caught up on gazing blankly at your drink, swirling the glass from time to time and watching the liquid ripple in reaction. Taking miniscule sips as the evening sky delved into an azure shade of darkness. As people left, as some came and as some merely spent their time there having forgotten the concept of time just as you had, he kept his eye on you, observing you. Despite you coming in so gloomy, it seemed that even a drink wasn't going to curb your worries.

"Hey."

You hear the sound of a towel being hit against something slightly hard, a pat sound occuring. You look up to see the bartender from before, a cloth over his shoulder. "Yeah?" You responded nonchalantly. Your tone seemed to make him frustrated as his eyes narrowed down onto your slumped figure. "You're scaring people away with that depressing face." Turning to your left and right, you notice that there is in fact no one sitting beside you.

You bite the inside of your mouth before making eye contact with him again, taunting your head to the side. "So?" It didn't matter what face you were making, it's not like it would change the taste of their drinks so why blame it on you.

"So," He pulls on his black latex gloves, securing them around his wrist prior to fetching an item from underneath the under bar. He pulls out an ice pick as his other hand reaches into a container picking out a cube of ice. "I'm going to be carving these for a while." Indigo orbs separate their focus from the icy block in his hands, and momentarily glance at you through lidded eyes, "Entertain me." You almost miss the slight quirk of his lip.

Why he had taken an interest in you, or well, bothered to even offer you an ear to listen to your ramblings, you didn't know. But you wouldn't deny the offer for a release.

With an exhausted exhale, – that he rolled his eyes at, again – you began speaking about your day, which evolved to you talking about the recent weeks, then it turned to you telling him about the past few months and then all that came before. It wasn't intentional, it's just that the line blurred the more you went on about your job. What did you ever wanna do when you were younger? Isn't it naive to have dreams? Isn't money what's most valuable, after all how can you even start to fantasise without having the materials to do so?

Laying yourself bare to a stranger wasn't on your to-do list today, but you found the sound of him breaking the ice with a pick and cutting it with a serrated knife to make an oddly beautiful shape, appearing clean like a marble, to be satisfying. It's not like you were going on without stopping, sometimes you'd glance up to him, he wouldn't meet your eyes but he'd tell you to go on, humming in acknowledgement as you continued to speak.

You really didn't get if this qualified as entertainment but he didn't seem to mind. Still, you didn't want to be acting all sad when he asked for you to amuse him, so you threw in some stories of some stupid occasions in your life, though once you told him these things he looked at you like you were the biggest moron he's ever seen in his life.

"When I turned around it was on fire."

You hear a well sculpted ice fall into the container with a loud clunk and when you raise your eyes to perceive his expression he wears the most judgmental look you had ever seen. His eyes were practically glaring at you and his mouth was agape. It was like you had told him the most disgusting irksome information ever.

It took a moment before he spoke again, "You fucking burned spaghetti? You. Burned. Spaghetti." It certainly didn't sound like a question but it was more so the shock that made it seem that way.

"Holy shit, you're a fucking idiot. Oh my god."

"It wasn't my fault! The fire was stronger, I didn't know that we had the gas tank changed into a different brand!"

"...How many times."

"...What?"

"How many times did it happen?"

"..."

Neither one of you blinks and your expression didn't budge once, but that told him everything he wished he never knew. You witnessed the realisation seep into his eyes and somehow he seemed to think less of you, but you had to defend yourself.

"It was only twice!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS ONLY TWICE??"

Least be said, you think you two got along well.

By now the bar had emptied out and you couldn't believe that you actually spent that much time here. Your glass was empty and the bartender didn't waste time swiping it away and wiping the wet imprint left on the darkly wooden counter, it allowed you a closer look at his hand, having taken off the gloves after he had finished tending to all that carving. You didn't make any efforts to hide how focused you were on them.

You must admit you didn't think he'd have his nails so well taken care of, they were almond shaped, not long, not short, just an average amount. He had his cuticles well taken care of and his fingers were pretty slender, his skin outlining his bones.

A cough interrupts you, but you don't look up.

His knuckles were defined, you could see that the one at the centre was slightly different, you had your own guess as to why thinking he must've gotten a fight a long time ago to have done that, or maybe he boxes?

"You have no shame you know that?"

The hand you were looking at is seemingly gone from your field of vision as you follow the holder of the easing voice yet judgmental voice you've become acustomed to. "You don't seem to mind all that much." Putting the cloth back over his shoulder you see him smug as he rolls his eyes, his words drowning in sarcasm, "Oh, not at all. Believe me, you're the very first to be so bold with me. Really." You didn't doubt there were others who have flirted with him so directly, and with good reason, who wouldn't? Yes, he was appealing to the eye, but he also was very skilled as a bartender, had a rather soothing voice, and his personality was.. bearable, actually pretty likeable. Somewhat.

"Right, but do you always give them this much attention?"

That appeared to have shut him up. For someone who tended to express his emotions towards someone's words so openly he didn't seem to always embrace this fact. The way he glares at you was less of anger and more of embarrassment as though he had been caught doing what he himself hadn't noticed. This only made you smirk at him, and you were glad to say that you got to get a hand over him at least once this night. "Shut up"

"I totally got you."

"You're just a customer, it's formal courtesy."

"You're interested in me."

"Ha, says the one who's been ogling me like a lunatic!"

"Because I like you."

Silence. Complete and utter silence. That is, between you two only. Life around you was still bustling, however it felt muffled, as if your ears were turning all that you deemed irrelevant deaf. "What.."

To say he was stunned was a bit of an understatement. Okay, maybe to say you liked him so directly came off head strong, but you thought why not make a lasting impression. "I said, I like you." Your smirk now widening into a grin.

"You barely know me!"

"Love at first sight is such a miracle!" Words sappy accompanied with overdramatic gestures. Oh, you were fucking with him. To think he'd let himself be teased by someone like this, no way. No, he can't allow that.

The man before you was leaned over the counter, his face relatively close to yours. He had his arms crossed on the wooden decor of the front bar, his torso resting on his forearms. "Want to act that way? Fine by me."

You had to admit it was kind of intimidating in a way having him so up close, not that you were going to tell him that and have him move though. This allowed you to make really direct eye contact with him and though you somewhat wanted to pull away you knew this was a challenge from him and you must admit, you found the hue of his orbs quite tantalising. You don't think you had ever seen such a colour in someone's eyes, it was fitting of the night yet still gleaming. "But if you're going to do this, then can you not get so easily distracted?" He snapped his fingers near your ear and this time he's the one to sigh.

"I may be a bartender, but I could do more than be eye candy and make you drinks. I could give you more than you have ever wanted."

"Can't help it. All I want is riiight here."

That was cheesy and you would've cringed at yourself if that hadn't been the intent. He raised a brow at you, "Are you implying that you can't take your eyes off me?" And he seemed to sound rather amused by this knowledge. "Maybe." The bartender hums in response and returns to his normal position, standing straight behind the counter, a hand on his hip.

"Alright, I'll let you admire me." God, he really is likeable. "However, each hour you spend you have to pay for." You take it back.

A muffled laugh catches your interest as you see how sniffles his voice with the back of his hand. "I didn't think you had your hopes up so high." He thought seeing the way your face morphed into disappointment was definitely a worthy sight. "I pity you and I'm an oh-so generous soul, so, if you keep coming here I'll let you talk to me. And if I feel extra nice I'll tell you my name."

"Your name? It says it on your tag, it's Scaramouche, right? Then I'll call you Scara."

"Hmm, you can find out for yourself if that's true."

You hadn't expected a rather mild boring and tiring day to turn into this, but you were kinda glad it did now for you had something that intrigued you on your hands.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #wanderer genshin #wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin impact

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

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I'm on Fire

chapter 18: the ties that bind

masterlist playlist

18+ MDNI

If you've come this far in the series, you know what to expect. No physical violence in this final chapter, but there might be some jealousy, protective/jealous Eddie, and threats. Steve with an OC character, parental Stobin, unprotected sex, oral, and meeting the extended family. Can't say goodby without a glimpse of Charlene. Reader is an artist and a vegetarian, but I try hard to keep away from any physical description.

word count: 15k

official author's note will be at the end of this chapter. I cherish you, my I'm on Fire fam, I'm so grateful for the ride, and I hope you enjoy this one.

"It's a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine."

-- the ties that bind, Bruce Springsteen

The next morning, a new Henderson opened her eyes to the world.

Steve was the next one to hold her after her parents, and he hadn’t expected to cry, to have his throat close up around his emotions and choke him when he was told they named her Stevie. He held her so close but so gentle and he barely noticed how wet his cheeks were until Robin came close and rubbed her palm in circles on his back.

“She kinda looks like me. That’s weird right?” Steve hushed, voice catching in a tearful hiccup. He was already thinking of the tattoo he would get with her name, inside his arm, close to his heart.

“Yeah, that is weird and impossible, Dingus,” Robin smiled into his shoulder, stroking a loving arc over Stevie’s little infant forehead with her finger. “But she kinda does.”

The labor had been long, the sun was up, and everyone was exhausted. Astrid was at the house making breakfast while you and Eddie looked after Oliver. He insisted on watching Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure again, and that was when you learned it was one of Eddie’s favorites as well; he knew every line by heart. He mimicked Ollie with the chant, “I know you are but what am I, I know you are but what am I?”

And it was only then that you realized why Eddie had made a joke once about violently cutting off your mattress tag, the one that specifically said DO NOT REMOVE. Also, it explained why Steve so ardently wanted to start his own biker gang called Satan’s Helpers.

After breakfast, Eddie took you back to the Hammer to get your car, and even though you didn’t want to socialize, you were also in no mood to be stranded at your place without wheels. Jackie reminded you that you looked like shit on your way through the smoky haze from the late morning drinkers. You simply nodded in silent agreement, and it wasn’t so much a nod as your head lazily bobbing on a spring. Your internal clock was out of whack, and you desperately needed a shower. A shower and a soak in the healing waters of some type of magical pond that could heal you from the inside out.

Maybe a month on a beach somewhere.

And then you pictured Eddie in a pair of loud, tropical swim trunks and giggled to yourself.

You were just about to leave the locker room with your paycheck and a few of your things, when tall, blonde Erika pushed in with a concerned look on her face, making you back up. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, covering the “Safety in the Workplace” poster.

“Hey, so, that guy is here looking for you again,” her whisper was urgent.

Your heart sank for a second as the memory of Craig gripped you. You had to remind yourself that he was long gone.

But you wondered if a part of him would always be lurking somewhere near, haunting you from beyond the grave.

Your next guess was Chief Hopper, maybe he had more questions for you.

“What guy?” You were hoping she had a clue, or asked a name, so that you could prepare yourself, doing your best to smooth out the front of your shirt.

She only shrugged. “He’s older, Paul Newman type. Smells like he’s made of money. This is the third time he’s been here asking about you.”

It still didn’t ring any bells, but you’d only slept a half hour on the couch curled up next to Eddie while Pee-Wee stormed the Alamo looking for his bike.

You took a slow peek around the corner of the bar from the hallway and saw John Gregson sitting there with a drink in his hand. Full head of salt n’ pepper hair slicked back off his face, wearing one of his signature gray suits.

Was he by himself? The way Charlene had been popping up like a bad rash lately, you almost expected to see her there, playing the dutiful wife.

You hid yourself in the hallway again, wondering if you had it in you to have a conversation with anyone, let alone him.

To say his face “lit up” when he saw you would be an understatement; He looked as if you’d been pulled from the rubble of a burning building, and he thought he would never see you again.

You found it hard to match the enthusiasm, even though he’d turned out to be a decent guy.

He stood up from his stool and Shana gave you both a curious look from behind the bar as she poured a shaken martini into a glass. She was wearing one of her long, black wigs that day with Bettie Page bangs.

“It’s good to see you,” he gestured to the seat next to him, his icy blue eyes shone like the Mediterranean Sea. “It’s been a while.”

You sank one hip onto the padded stool so that one foot was still on the ground. You didn’t want him to think you were staying for too long.

“I’m sorry I’m so behind on your painting, life has been—”

He put his hand up, palm out to you. It was his left hand and you noticed that he was not wearing his wedding ring.

“Please, don’t worry about the painting. Take all the time you need, that’s not why I’m here. Can I buy you lunch?”

“I-I…” you fumbled. “I was just on my way out.”

“A drink then?” He cleared his throat and shifted closer casually so that his knee was touching yours. He swirled his drink in his hand. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I didn’t feel it was appropriate to do it over the phone.”

Your anxiety spiked a bit, and it wasn’t as if he was a serial killer or anything, but his sudden shift in proximity gave you pause. You asked Shana for an iced tea and gestured for him to follow you to one of the more isolated tables against the dark red wall, underneath a framed Led Zeppelin poster. He pulled your chair out for you before getting settled with his gin and tonic, making sure to use one of the black cocktail napkins as a coaster.

“I know you’re busy,” he cleared his throat. “So, permit me to get right to the point.” He removed the two stir straws from his drink and put them on the napkin.

“First of all, I’d like to apologize for my wife. I believe she’s caused you quite a bit of trouble.”

You had not expected that one

His stare was too intense, you had to shift your attention and take a gulp of your drink.

“You see,” he settled back, keeping his forearms on the table. “I met Charlene when I was barely out of high school, we were together before I made my money, and I always felt like I owed her my blind devotion. Lately it’s obvious that we only make each other miserable.”

He continued. “I’m not a stupid man. I always knew about the other boyfriends, not that she made much of an effort to hide it,” he smiled wryly to himself. “Not to bore you with the details of my failed marriage, but I know that Charlene’s the reason you lost your job at the gallery, and I’d like to rectify that, if I can.”

Realization dawned at his words. Why hadn’t you put those pieces together earlier? Of course Charlene was the reason you lost your job, she probably threatened to remove her funding and ruin Judith.

You could barely catch up to what he was saying before he started again. “I’m opening a gallery in Chicago, and I’d like you to come out and run it.”

You choked and had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. “Excuse me?”

John smiled so genuinely at your reaction that the skin around his eyes crinkled. He undid a button on his suit jacket to get more comfortable. “You’d have full creative license, you’d be able to hire your team, do with it what you wish. I trust your vision.”

It was that opportunity you’d been dreaming about for years, the one you’d been working toward for almost a decade.

So easy, just like that.

Here, take it, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

…but was it?

Your head swam, vision tunneling slightly as you glanced around the Velvet Hammer. You imagined Steve on his stool at the door and Eddie pulling you aside in the hallway to kiss you. The song Everlong by The Foo Fighters was on, and you thought about how Chicago was over three hours away. You’d have to move; it was much too far for a commute.

“That’s such a generous offer, I…I don’t know what to say?”

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” and before you knew what was happening, his hand slid across the table and was on top of your fingers.

Your eyes flashed to his hand over yours and you sat there shocked while your need to be polite overrode your core instincts.

“I know there’s a lot to think about,” he continued, removing his hand to cup it around his drink again. “Of course, I’d pay for all of your moving expenses. I own a building downtown with an artist loft I think you might be interested in. You’d have plenty of room to live and paint, start fresh, if you wanted to.”

Start fresh.

You felt like Shana had slipped a psychedelic into your tea, like you were melting into your chair. Your brain was having a hard time keeping up with the reality of what was being offered.

He tossed back another sip and wiped the corners of his mouth, looking almost unsure if he should say the next part. “Charlene and I—” he licked his perfectly straight teeth in contemplation. “---we’ve decided to go our separate ways. We’re selling the lake house, a few other properties, and she’s planning to move to Hawaii to be near her sister.”

A thought zipped through your mind then. How long had Charlene known she was leaving? Why would she become a partner in The Velvet Hammer and then move to Hawaii?

“That means I’ll be at my condo in Chicago most of the time, unless I’m traveling for business,” he gave you a pointed look again. “There are so many places I’d love to take you to in the city. If you are interested, that is.”

“Well,” you laughed nervously. “I’d need to talk to my boyfriend about it. About the job, I mean. Moving to Chicago. His whole life is here.”

“Certainly,” John nodded, not missing a beat. “You talk to him and when you’re ready, you have my number. The gallery space I’m buying needs work, so I’d like to fly you out there in a week to take a look at it, once you decide.”

You were still staring glassy eyed at the edge of the table after John stood and left the Hammer. You hadn’t remembered to breathe in god knew how long, so you tried that, letting out a hard exhale that made a cocktail napkin go flying off the table.

Would Eddie move with you? Visit you on the weekends? The latter seemed more likely but also not, considering how demanding his work schedule was. Katie told you that Robin had asked her to move in, and you were overjoyed for her. She’d be paying her share of the rent and utilities for the next month, but after that you’d either need to find a smaller place or a new roommate because you couldn’t afford your duplex on a Velvet Hammer salary.

One week was all you had.

Did you even need a week? Surely you knew your answer.

—-------

The tires on the tow truck screeched to a stuttering halt out on a Hawkins back road lined with cornfields.

Behind the wheel, Eddie idled there, right in front of that familiar white picket fence around the big yard and the farmhouse with a porch swing and a red barn in back.

Eddie knew the details of the old Ferguson place by heart, it had been his dream house ever since he was in high school and used to take long rides on his bike to clear his head. The couple that had spent their life raising a family there were in their 80’s now, and he’d heard through the grapevine that they were relocating to a retirement community. To a smaller place that was easier to care for. All of their children were grown and lived far away.

The newest addition to the house was where his eyes fell.

His attention fixed on the sign at the end of the driveway for a long while, heart thudding in his chest.

The old Ferguson Farmhouse was for sale.

—---

The next day was the Welcome Home Baby Stevie barbeque at Steve’s and he had a blue “Kiss the Cook” apron on and a spatula in his bandaged hand when you and Eddie arrived. He wore an elastic bracelet made of colorful plastic beads around his wrist that you assumed was a new gift from Oliver. The sky was bright blue, almost blinding, and the air was crisp.

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked on the way up the driveway to Robin and Steve’s backyard where the lawn had been neatly mowed and edged. “Anything you want to talk about?”

You hated keeping things from him, but you had no idea how to bring up John’s offer, or if you even wanted to mention it. Eddie had invited you over to his place the night before, but you’d told him you needed some time alone to get to bed early. Turns out that being alone with your thoughts only made it worse.

“No, I’m fine my love, I promise,” you leaned into him. “I’m just tired.”

He put his arm around your shoulders to scoop you closer and kiss your ear. “I’m gonna take care of you tonight. Make you a bath, pour you some wine, kiss you all over. How does that sound?”

“It sounds—” you felt emotions water your eyes suddenly and you blinked it away as quickly as you could. “That sounds perfect.”

You felt guilty that you were even considering John’s offer, but how could you not? A very hopeful part of you said that both were a possibility, that you could keep Eddie and have your dream job in the city. But how? You couldn’t take Eddie away from Wayne and Oliver and his business, you would never ask that of him.

“Is Wayne coming?” You asked, noticing you did not see his truck. Also, your thoughts were racing again and you needed a distraction.

“He’ll be here later,” Eddie assured you. “Astrid is picking him up on her way over. Max and Lucas stopped by the garage for a visit and I didn’t want to disrupt the reunion.”

You felt a bit embarrassed at the mention of his longtime friend Max, only because you’d been made to believe that she was a mysterious redhead that Eddie was having an affair with not too long ago.

Thanks to Charlene.

You imagined that Hawkins would be a much better place without her lurking around every corner. Was there a chance that Judith would take you back on at Moon River Gallery? No, you had no desire to go crawling back to that place. Unless a new gallery opened, or your art took off to celebrity status, you’d be waitressing at the Hammer and squirreling away your tips for the foreseeable future.

But, you’d have Eddie.

You’d been spacing out so hard, you barely realized that Robin was standing in front of you, offering to take the sack with a Tupperware full of homemade potato salad and hamburger buns. Eddie was carrying your veggie burger patties that he bought especially for the occasion, and the fixings to make tofu skewers. You told him you were a vegetarian once, and you never had to remind him again.

“You good?” Robin asked, noting the way you shook your head a few times to come back to reality. Katie came up behind Robin to place her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before she moved over to your side.

“Have a beer with me?” Katie asked softly, reading the weariness in your slightly hunched shoulders.

It was officially fall, but the weather was warm for Indiana in late September. Eddie had on his Iron Maiden concert tee under his jacket from their 1985 World Slavery tour and black converse with his worn jeans, and he took his leather off and threw it on a lawn chair as he walked over to the grill.

“You better leave the hard stuff to me,” he said to Steve, shifting his gaze accusatory to grill. The last time he let Steve grill your veggie burger, he’d charred it within an inch of its life.

“Have at it,” Steve dusted his hands together. “I have to go check on my pie in the oven.”

“You baked a pie?” Eddie gawked at him like he had hornets crawling out of his ears.

“Well, Astrid made it,” he pinched a few sunflower seeds out of the front pocket of his apron and popped them in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “It’s cherry,” he bobbed his eyebrows up and down a few times suggestively, and Eddie scoffed, elbowing him out of the way so that he could put his skewers down on the folding table.

You were just about to take the first sip of your beer when a man’s voice that was not familiar called over from the driveway.

“There’s that long-haired freak I’ve been looking for.”

The skin on your arms prickled with gooseflesh and you spun around, thinking there was about to be some sort of trouble.

Slightly unrealistic to think the worst, but you were understandably alert.

There at the edge of the lawn stood a tall, handsome guy you’d never laid eyes on before, maybe in his late 20’s, and he had a Coffin Kings cut on that was very similar to the one’s Eddie and Steve wore. At his side, holding his hand was an adorable redhead. Her long hair was pulled through the back of a baseball cap, but you noted that the bright candy color was deeply familiar.

You turned to see Eddie’s reaction like you were watching a tennis match.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he beamed. “Look what the cat dragged in, "and he stopped what he was doing to make his way over with his arms out and the two hugged, giving each other hearty pats on the back.

“Max!” Robin squealed, practically doing a cartwheel in that direction. You and Katie fell back and stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the group reconnect in a way that was very familial.

Lucas and Max had been together since high school, you learned, and Lucas was a member of the Coffin Kings Indianapolis chapter. The song Love Spreads by The Stone Roses played from Robin's portable boombox on the steps as the new arrivals meandered in to be with the rest of the gang and assimilated with ease.

Eddie rested his hand on your lower back to introduce you, and instead of a handshake, Max went in for a hearty hug, and in your ear, she said, “Eddie loves you so much, I’ve been dying to meet you.”

When she pulled back to meet your eyes, you nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ve heard so much about you,” you told her, and then Max shot a look at Eddie and made a crack about how she hoped it was all good things that you’d heard.

They were even more interested to meet Katie, being that Robin had not been serious about anyone since before Oliver was born. Just then, the Oliver in question came bursting out of the house flying his hot dog bun through the air like a plane, making engine noises.

By the time Dustin and Suzie came by with their new baby, the smell of burgers charring on the grill filled the air and you helped Steve bring some more chairs out to the lawn. Eddie was taking much care to keep your vegetarian stuff away from the meat, and you couldn’t help but notice with deep adoration.

Astrid had a lot on her mind. So much so that she didn’t have it in her to make the usual banter with Wayne that she enjoyed when they were together.

“You okay, darlin’?” Wayne turned to her in the truck on the way over.

“Oh,” she tucked a thick swatch of dark hair behind her ear. “You know, just thinking about how excited Steve must be about the new baby.”

There was a distinct melancholy in her voice. One of the reasons the relationship between her and Steve had never gone any further than besties who make love was her refusal to take away his chance at a big family. She was barely 21 when a doctor told her she’d never be able to conceive. Well, technically he said there was a small chance—a hairline percentage—but that it “would take an actual miracle”---those were his words.

She loved Steve too much to not let him be a dad. He was made for that life. Ever since he was a teenager, he’d known he wanted to be a father, and once he had Oliver, she knew she’d done the right thing. She’d tried to keep their relationship platonic time and time again, but in the end, the chemistry between them always proved to be too strong.

She’d decided that she would love him until he found someone else, and then she would continue to love him from the shadows. She’d given her heart long ago, and with him it would stay.

“Hell, look at the head of hair on that kid,” Wayne said when Suzie introduced him to her daughter. He gave a crooked grin and stroked a finger along the back of her tiny, exposed hand.

At that, Dustin took his cap off and swiped a hand through his unruly mane. “Thank god the rest of her looks take after her mother.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lucas grumbled, thumping his friend in the arm.

Steve had his back to the crowd when they came in and Astrid spanked him on the bum on her way up the stairs to the kitchen.

He spun on his heel and was quick to cage his arms around her so she could only squirm. His face was flushed and glowing. “You meet the kid?”

“I did,” normally, she would’ve kissed him, but instead she pulled back a bit, tilting her chin away. “She’s so beautiful, Steve.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—” she knew she was a fool to think he wouldn’t be able to read her face, a fool to think he couldn’t read her like a book after all of those years.

Steve frowned, examining her face for a clue to her distress.

Astrid’s stomach felt like she’d swallowed a lead weight.

She hadn’t decided if she should tell him or not.

About the secret she’d been carrying with her for a few days.

15 years, that’s how long she’d been in love with him.

Back when he was 19 and she was 23.

They’d known each other since they were little kids.

“I need to talk to you later,” she told him.

Steve dropped his arms from around her but held her hand. “You can’t tell me now?”

She’d be 38 in December.

“Later, okay?” She winked at him to ease his suffering, and then made her way into the house, knowing that he stood there the whole time and watched her go.

But later that day never came.

Wayne wanted to get back and rest before his chemo treatment, and Dustin and his family only stayed for about an hour as they were all understandably still exhausted and wanting to recover at home.

Astrid waved goodbye to Steve on her way out, and Steve stood up from his chair thinking he’d get a kiss, or at least a hug—but then she was gone.

He tried not to think too much of it. If he’d done something to upset her, she was never shy about letting him know. Maybe she was tired of socializing, maybe she needed a break from him.

Lord knows he wished he could take a break from himself.

Eddie looked over at where you stood talking with Max and Robin, and he recalled the conversation he’d had with Wayne a few days earlier.

“I don’t have to tell you you found a good one,” Wayne said from the couch in his trailer while Eddie sat next to him. “I think you know they don’t come around very often.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Eddie raked a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead one, two, three times. “I keep thinking one day she’s going to wake up and realize she could do a lot better.”

“You’ve done better than you give yourself credit for,” his uncle returned in a low, steady voice.

When the next words came, Eddie felt a tightness in his throat:

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Wayne had a hard time leaving the house the day after his treatments, so Eddie always came by to bring him lunch and make sure he had everything he needed. One day he came by to check on Wayne and found that you were already there, doing his dishes for him.

He’d never been with anyone who cared about the people in his life like that.

Back at the barbeque, you slipped up next to him and planted your lips on his bicep, breathing in the sandalwood and leather of his scent. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Since you asked,” he smirked. “I was thinking how I wish I’d met you a lot sooner.”

“How much sooner?” You batted eyes at him once he turned to face you. “In high school?”

Eddie made a yuck face. “No, you would not have given me a chance in high school. I would’ve been a lovesick puppy, but you probably wouldn’t have even known I existed.”

“Are you kidding?” You stuck the tip of your tongue out between your teeth, examining him. “I would’ve jumped your bones so fast.”

“So fast, huh?” He chuckled, taking you by the hips. “What about now?”

He pulled you in and you hummed against his lips, trying not to get too horny right there in front of the guests.

Lucas and Max would be in town for a couple days, so you and Eddie made plans to meet up at the Velvet Hammer when you were off work on Tuesday. By the time the sun went down, all of the visitors were gone, and you were happy to head home as well after helping with some cleanup.

“Robin and I can take care of it,” Katie nudged you away from trying to wash out a casserole dish at the sink. “You get out of here and go rest. Make Eddie rub your feet or something.”

You both stopped what you were doing to look at each other.

The way you were searching your friend’s face made her turn to give you her full attention. In the background, you could hear Steve trying to convince Oliver to get his pajamas on and brush his teeth in a sing-song voice.

“I can’t believe how much has happened in these past few months,” you still had soap bubbles popping on your wet hands and you slid them absently along the thighs of your jeans.

Katie gave a thoughtful sniff. “I think about it a lot,” she mused. “About that night on the couch at our place when you first told me about the guy who picked you up in the tow truck, and then meeting the boys at The Hideout and then—”

She cringed and covered her face with a dish towel, remembering her “date” with Steve. “---it feels so surreal that Steve and I actually…well…I don’t want to think about it. It’s too weird.”

“But then you and Robin found each other again,” you offered, thinking back to that first barbecue at their house when Eddie had to take off suddenly for secretive Coffin Kings business.

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell your friend about the offer from John Gregson. Katie knew you better than most people and you could always trust her advice to be on the mark.

For some reason, you wanted to cry, just drop to your knees and start bawling right there on the kitchen floor. For no one reason just

Everything

Katie caught the way your jaw moved like you were just about to say something, but then Eddie’s hands were snaking around to hold your back flush to his chest. Your hair caught on his beard stubble when he leaned in, warm breath at your ear. “You ladies need any help in here?”

You closed your eyes; you were glad to have him there. Glad to be in his arms, glad to know, in your heart, that he would always try his best for you.

But you were the one keeping a secret.

Robin joined Katie at the sink and told you both to take a hike, lovingly.

Steve came into the kitchen after you were both gone and the engine of Eddie’s Chevelle could be heard thundering down the road.

The first thing he did was pick up the beige, wall-mounted phone and call Astrid. He stood there for a while with the receiver pressed to his ear and his other arm folded over his chest before he held the mouthpiece out in front of him and stared at it.

“She’s not answering,” he mumbled loud enough that the girls could hear.

“Maybe she’s at Wayne’s? Did you check there?” Robin offered; her hair worn up in a haphazard ponytail.

Steve checked the clock first to make sure he wasn’t bothering Uncle too late, but it was barely 8:30 and he was probably up in his recliner watching M*A*S*H reruns.

Wayne answered and they exchanged a few words, but then when Steve hung up again, he was quiet, contemplatively so.

“What did he say?” Robin asked impatiently, drying some silverware with a checkered towel.

Steve frowned. “He said she dropped him off almost two hours ago and told him she was going home.”

He tried her house one more time and, again, no answer. He let it ring five times but disconnected once her answering machine clicked on.

“Maybe she went to bed early,” Katie shrugged. “And turned the ringer off.”

Steve knew better; Astrid barely slept. Normally, not being able to get a hold of her would not phase him, but something about the way she’d been acting that night set an alarm off in his gut.

Outside, there was the sound like a firecracker bomb going off that shook the house. Robin yelped and Steve bolted to the window to yank the yellow curtain back to see where it had come from.

He got there just in time to see a streak of lightning crack the dark sky and a drizzle of rain hit the glass. “Oh shit, good thing Eddie came in the Chevelle,” the droplets turned into a downpour as he stood there.

“Looks like a hell of a storm is brewing.”

—----

Earlier that day, Charlene Gregson marched out of Murray Bauman’s office with her lawyer in tow. She wore her oversized sunglasses and no expression on her face as they went down in the elevator and exited into the austere lobby. She looked like a million bucks, which was probably the cost of all of the gold and diamond jewelry she had on.

Outside on the busy street, her personal chauffeur was waiting by the Towncar to open the door for her while her lawyer, a pit-bull of a man named Saul, got in on the other side to slide in next to her. Billy was out there waiting on his bike, to make sure no one bothered her on their way out. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and revved the engine, angling to fall in line behind the Towncar.

“You sure this is what you want?” Saul posed the question to her as he slammed his door shut. They’d just thrown a lot of money at Murray and had him sign official documents.

Charlene sounded annoyed. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? The deal is done.”

He continued. “I suppose I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you would—”

“I don’t pay you to ask personal questions,” she sniffed. “Just make sure there’s a smooth transition. I don’t want to be having a cocktail on the beach and find out that you fumbled something, and I’m forced to fly back out here.”

The town car sailed into traffic and the two sat in silence for a few minutes until Charlene stared out the window at the passing buildings on their way back to the lake house.

“Have you ever been in love, Saul?”

He was confused by the question and tapped his foot a few times. “I can’t really say I have.”

After recent events, and everything that he’d been tasked to do in her name for the benefit of someone else made him wonder. “What about you?”

“Only once,” she pressed her red lips together, eyes unblinking behind her sunglasses. “And once will have to be enough.”

Saul assumed she meant her soon to be ex husband John, and so he left it at that.

—-------

In a matter of seconds, the rain was coming down in sheets and the windshield wipers on the Chevelle were flapping back and forth at supernova speed.

“We could go back to my apartment if you want,” Eddie turned the Faith No More song down on the radio so that he could be heard over the rain. “But your place is cozier, and I know both are fairly small but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—”

“I think I want to stay at my place tonight,” you blurted it out, keeping your attention fixed on the dash, staring at nothing. “Alone, if that’s alright.”

You could see in your peripheral vision that he turned to look at you, and you offered a reflexive smile, shoulders hunched a bit as if you were trying to fold in on yourself.

He smoothed his palm around the steering wheel and tried not to let the sensitive side of him that had been abandoned his whole life jump to conclusions. Not everyone needed to sleep next to the person they loved every night; you wanting space was totally reasonable and had nothing to do with your feelings for him.

Right?

Just in case, he decided to make sure. “Was it something I said or? Cause if there’s an issue between us, you know you can talk to me.”

For some reason, his insistence to have healthy communication irritated you. Possibly because you knew he was right and you should put it all out on the table and talk to him, but you didn’t know how. Your brain had barely been able to process the offer from John, let alone put the whole thing into words.

“It’s nothing you did,” you said softly. “I just need time to think.”

Something about your tone and choice of words made his heart rate increase. “Think about what?”

“Just stuff Eddie, okay? I don’t want to talk about it right now!” You snapped at him, for the first time ever.

After everything with Erika and Charlene and Melanie and thinking he’d been cheating on you, you’d never lost your temper with him, and the two of you had never had a fight. As much as you knew that arguments and disagreements were a very normal part of intimate relationships, you still felt like shit the second the words came out with such vitriol.

There it was, Eddie’s biggest fear: you were pulling away from him.

He’d suffocated you just like he was prone to do. He was “too much”, and now you were getting sick of him.

For the next few minutes of the drive to your place, neither of you said a word.

You because you didn’t want to take your confusion and anxiety out on Eddie, and Eddie because he didn’t want to sound like a whiny, needy bitch and make things worse.

He parked up in your driveway to get you close to the door, but he kept the engine running to let you know he was honoring your wish to drop you off and let you be.

You took a deep breath and flipped the manual lock up with two fingers.

“Wait, let me—” he was about to get out and come around to hold his coat out for you so that you wouldn’t get wet, but you were too quick for him.

“I’ll be fine, goodnight.” you were soaked the second you stepped out, fumbling in the pocket of your bag to find your keys.

“I love you,” Eddie’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the weather.

“Love you too,” you said quickly, and then you were bolting for the house, wishing you’d left the porch light on.

Once you were inside, you clicked the deadbolt shut and watched the beam of Eddie’s headlights retreat.

This was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous.

There’s a beautiful man out there who treats you better than you’ve ever been treated in your whole life.

You threw your bag on the floor and undid the lock to jerk open the door again.

You stumbled out into the rain. “Eddie wait!”

But all you could see were his taillights as he pulled onto the main street and drifted away.

—------

Back at her house, Astrid let the phone ring.

At one point, she had her hand on it, ready to pick up, but then decided against it.

It was impossible for her to be fake with Steve, but she also wasn’t ready to be as forthcoming as she needed to be.

She stood at the table and looked at the paperwork from the doctor's office one more time before she made her way over to the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest to let the tears fall hot and heavy.

She had her eyes closed, so she didn’t notice the lights approaching in the driveway or hear Steve shouting her name from the sidewalk as he stood out in the rain.

He’d borrowed Robin’s car to ease his mind and make sure Astrid was okay. What if she had slipped and hit her head or something? What if she was there with another dude? Also, a possibility under their “don’t ask, don’t tell” relationship agreement.

The white t-shirt he had on was soaked through, making the tattoos underneath look like they were a design imprinted on the material that hugged his muscles.

He banged on the door with the side of his fist and shouted her name again.

By then, Astrid could hear him, but she stayed curled on the couch and waited in vain for him to give up and leave.

—--

Eddie scowled to himself as he parked the Chevelle in one of the garages and made his way across the parking lot and up the steps to his apartment, shaking his wet hair like a dog. He could hear a few of the guys partying in the clubhouse, and he thought about joining them, but realized his spirits were too low to be social. There was a punching bag in the back office where he normally did his workouts to burn off steam, but he wasn’t in the mood for that either.

He told himself he would check on you first thing in the morning, but then it occurred to him that you might not want to hear from him right away. He wanted to respect your wishes, your boundaries.

He didn’t want to smother you.

On the nightstand next to his phone was the card for the real estate agent he’d visited the day before. There was a room on the second floor of the Ferguson farmhouse with a view of the big backyard and he imagined setting some easels up to make it a place for you to paint. It had a big living room with a fireplace and a workshed in the barn. He wanted to talk to you about it, to ask if maybe you could see yourself living there. With him.

But now he wondered if things were moving too fast.

He crossed his arms over his body and took his shirt off in the bathroom mirror. He rubbed a hand down his stomach, noting the areas of skin that were not covered in inked designs. The fanged bat with wings spread wide on his chest, the dragon design on his bicep, the grim reaper on his forearm. A crude dagger made to look like it pierced his skin just under his rib cage that said, “true friends stab you in the front”. There were other bits of traditional biker flash scattered around that Steve had doodled on him over the past decade. On his other forearm was a memorial tattoo for his mother with her name, the year she died, and an angel statue with eyes that dripped blood, surrounded in roses and thorns, and the thorns came down over the back of his hand. It was done in a way so that the bats that had been inked there earlier were still visible.

He was barely 15 when another friend inked HELLFIRE on his knuckles. It was done with a homemade tattooing gun like the ones used in prison, and the letters had to be redone later because they were basically chicken scratches. One of the other earliest ones was the skull with a snake through it on his opposite bicep with his nickname “War Machine” underneath.

Some days, he wanted to get them all removed and start over.

Other days, he wanted to go balls to the wall like Steve and be inked from ear to foot.

He threw his soaked shirt in the hamper and was just about to grab a beer out of the small fridge near his desk to take into the shower with him—

but then there was a knock at the door.

At first, he thought it was one of the other Coffin Kings, trying to drag him down to get plastered with them, but then he noticed that the rapping of knuckles was soft, cautious even.

“Eddie?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

It was you.

—------

Steve held his finger on the doorbell, relentlessly. “Astrid, if you don’t answer the goddamn door, I’m gonna break it down! You know I will!”

Astrid wiped her face, flapping her hand to dry her eyes and cheeks to the best of her ability. She still had on the flowy, floral, maxi dress with an empire waist that she’d worn at the barbeque, and she wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders as she stomped begrudgingly to the door.

Just as she was about to reach up to unlock the safety chain, there was a loud thud from Steve’s foot slamming into the wood, vibrating the hinges.

“Steve stop!” She yelled, fussing with the second lock on the doorknob.

She yanked the door back and there he was: soaked to the bone.

There was only a short awning over her front steps, and so he was standing as close to the frame as possible while more thunder rumbled in the distance. His wet hair had flopped into his eyes, and he swiped it back with a twist of his head, spitting to the sidewalk as he did so.

His expression was one of anger at first, but then it melted into confusion when he could tell right away that she had been crying. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“This is a bad time,” she stayed blocking the entrance, although the yearning in his eyes was actively testing her resolve.

“The hell it is?” He pushed. He shifted to see behind her, as if there was someone or something she was hiding. “You’re upset, I can tell. Let me in.”

“No.” That was her answer, but Steve wasn’t having it.

He stomped up onto the threshold, wet hair dripping onto her face as he closed in, bracing his hand on the door so that she couldn’t shut it. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

She tried to look everywhere but his face, but then his hand caught her chin and guided her eyes up to meet his.

“Talk to me,” he whispered from lips dotted in water droplets.

There was a tug of war going on in her heart, and in the end, Steve won. He always did.

She didn’t invite him in properly, she just turned on her heel and left the door open, knowing he would follow her into the living room.

His boots squeaked from all the moisture on her hardwood floors. He always liked to take his shoes off when he came to see her, but it was too late for that. He found her sitting on the couch in the dark, but he could only see the outline of her curly hair.

“Why are you sitting here without any lights on?” He reached down and flicked on a tiny wicker lamp that was on the nearby bookshelf.

“You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He pinched the front of his shirt to peel it from his body and flapped it a few times as if that would dry it out. “What did you want to talk to me about at the barbeque?”

“You’re soaking wet,” she got a good look at him in the light and suddenly felt bad that she’d made him wait out there.

“No kidding?” He snorted sarcastically.

“You left some of your clothes here last time. I folded them in the third drawer,” she hugged the pillow. “Get into something dry and then we can talk.”

He stripped down to his underwear right there in front of her, staring at her the entire time, as if he was worried she would bolt and try to hide from him. His patchwork of colorful tattoos was a jumble of loud expressions of his aggression and passion. In honor of his nickname Taz, he had several Tasmanian devils doing various things including riding a motorcycle and one on the back of his arm giving onlookers the middle finger. The ones on the front of his thighs were all self-done when he was just a kid, practicing his craft. When he was a teenager, he used to tease her and call her “Asteroid” and just above his knee was an asteroid with a fire tail crashing toward a heart-shaped earth. Besides the Seek and Destroy tattoo on the side of his throat, his skin was full of phrases, including the big “FTW” letters in an arc under his ribcage that stood for “Fuck the World”.

He went into her bedroom and brought out a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt with “Gary’s Plumbing” advertised on the front pocket. He dressed in front of her as well, keeping a relentless eye.

“You really are ridiculous, you know that?” She put her chin in her palm and waited patiently for the show to be over.

He flapped his arms out to his sides like a little kid waiting for approval on his outfit. “Okay, beautiful. I’m dry. Time to spill the beans.”

“Can you sit down, please?” Her heart flopped in her chest as she considered the words that were about to come out of her mouth and the effect, they would have on him.

In Steve’s experience, when someone asked you to sit down before they told you something, it was always their attempt to soften the blow of bad news. “Why can’t you just tell me now? You’re freaking me out, babe.”

“Steve,” She pleaded sternly. “Trust me, I need you to sit down for this.”

—------

Eddie barely had time to greet you before you were pushing by him to get into the studio apartment. You were hugging yourself, and anxiety had your stomach in knots.

“I need to talk to you about something,” you gushed.

Eddie stood at the door, keeping his back to you while he locked it. He was shirtless, dark hair dripping down the pale muscles that flexed under his flesh.

You looked around, trying to decide if you should sit or stand when your gaze landed on the painting you’d done for him after that first time you met. He had it displayed front and center, right above his desk on the main navy-blue wall, as if it were the most important piece in the room.

You were pacing when he turned toward you, the wheels in your mind spinning.

When he got closer, you stepped further away, but he caught your wrist. “Hey, why can’t you look at me? What’s going on?” His voice was sterner than he’d intended it to be.

“I can look at you,” you made yourself meet his stare to prove his point, but it was difficult. You felt like he could see right through you; all of your doubts, all of your fears and insecurities.

“Sit,” he directed you over to the end of the bed, facing the small sitting area with where there was a couch and a coffee table in front of an old Zenith tv.

Next to you, the mattress sank under his weight, but in your mind, you were somewhere else.

“So, is this it?” He released a heavy breath and started to play with one of the rings on his hand, pulling it up the finger and then pushing it back down to the knuckle.

“What do you mean?”

It was he who couldn’t look at you now. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” You blurted it, eyebrows pinching together in frustration with the way you couldn’t get the words out. “That’s not…I didn’t mean…I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

A rush of endorphins filled him with temporary relief while he waited for your next words.

You stretched your neck from side to side, swallowed hard, and then you told him.

You told him about John’s offer to run your own gallery in Chicago, the opportunity to have the artists loft you’d always dreamed of. You picked at a piece of skin on the side of your thumb as you talked.

“But I said I needed to talk to you about it first,” you added.

Eddie got to his feet and went over to look out the window over the garage parking lot. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal,” he mumbled.

You weren’t breaking up with him, but you were, in fact, leaving him, which was much the same thing.

“Well, it’s complicated,” you said, watching as he went over to snatch his pack of smokes and lighter off of the coffee table.

“Doesn’t sound complicated to me,” the cigarette bobbed between his pinched lips as he talked, cupping his hand to light the end. “Sounds like you already know what your answer is.”

“I wouldn’t be talking to you about it if I’d already made my decision,” you countered. “I want to know what you think.”

“Well,” he scoffed, exhaling a sharp plume of smoke down his chin. His eyes were much darker now, almost black. “No one in their right mind would choose to stay in Hawkins, not with an opportunity like that on the table.”

He almost added, “no loser biker boyfriend is worth it,” but decided it was not the right time to be self-deprecating.

“But I like it here,” you mused. “More than I ever thought I would.”

“We’ll always be here, trust me,” he was trying to remain cool, but his exterior was cracking. “So, this John guy has been stalking you or something? Getting you to do this painting for him was one thing, but now he’s waiting for you at your job to get you to what? ----Move to Chicago to be closer to him?”.

The smoke came out his nose that time and the muscles in his throat tensed. He had a bad feeling about that guy before, but he wanted to respect your business ventures and give you space.

The change in Eddie’s demeanor made you wonder if that was the time for full transparency. In the end, you’d made a promise not to have any secrets from each other and you wanted to keep your word.

“There was mention of that, yes,” you said cautiously, nibbling at your lip.

“Mention of what, exactly?” Eddie scowled, cocking his head to the side.

“He said there were lots of places he wanted to take me to in the city,” you recited the words cautiously.

Eddie laughed and threw his head back; it was much more of a crazy, maniacal cackle. “Oh shit, maybe I should pay him a little visit? See if pretty boy wants to show me the city too.”

“Eddie.”

“What did you tell him?” He was fuming now, grinding his jaw as he stabbed the half-smoked cig into the ashtray.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” you repeated, but in a much louder voice. “I said I needed to talk to you, my boyfriend.”

“He knows you have a boyfriend, and he still pulled that shit?” Eddie bit the tip of his tongue between his teeth with a grimace. “That fucker needs to get rolled.”

“Eddie!”

“No, I’m serious,” he was yelling now, but more about the situation than at you. “I gave him a chance to be cool, to be a gentleman, and he fucked it up. I told you babe, dudes like that, with money, think they can take whatever they want. Well, he can’t have you, unless it’s over my dead fucking body.”

“Well, it’s my fucking choice, and I don’t want to be with him, I want to be with you, asshole,” You shot to your feet.

You’d realized something on your way over to his place and it was that you really did not want to leave Hawkins.

Every rational bone in your body told you to take the offer and run, but the other bones in your body, the not so rational ones, told you that you’d finally found your family and a place you belonged.

“Listen to me,” you grabbed him by the arm and made him turn, his hair flying over his shoulder. “I don’t want to take the job, okay? I want to stay here. With you.”

Eddie nostrils flared. It was taking all of his strength not to go out looking for that pencil pushing dweeb Gregson. But if he actually got his hands on him in the heat of the moment, he was afraid of what he would do.

“I’ll move with you,” Eddie wet his lips, a new idea flashing behind his eyes.

“With me? To Chicago?”

“Yeah, no, I could make it work. Hire another manager here, another tow truck driver. Come back and check in a couple times a month,” he walked by you as he talked, plucking at his lower lip with thumb and forefinger. “I could get a job at a garage in Chicago, easy. There’s even a King’s chapter there. I could get Bones to patch me in.”

“What about Wayne? And Oliver?”

“We’ll come back to visit,” Eddie nodded at the plan that was forming in his head. “Steve and Robin and the kid love Chicago. Maybe we can get a place with a spare bedroom for when they come up.”

“But what about—”

“I know this means a lot to you, this opportunity,” he cut you off. “I know I’m a dirty, biker asshole, but I’m not going to be the reason you give up on a dream.” He went over to the dresser drawers and pulled out a Pabst Blue Ribbon shirt to pull on over his head. The armholes were cut wide, and the collar was frayed.

“But what if I don’t want to live in Chicago?”

Eddie squinted like he hadn’t heard you correctly. “What now?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “I’ve been thinking that I don’t really care about that world anymore, the art world I mean.”

“You don’t want to paint anymore?” He appeared hurt by this notion.

“No, I do, I will always paint,” you corrected with a wave of your hand. “But the retail side of it, the snobby clientele, the stress, I’m not sure it makes me happy anymore. Not sure if it ever did.”

It was Eddie who took a seat that time, perching on the back of the sofa. You could tell he was trying to understand, but the information was coming at him a bit too fast.

“I don’t want to work at the Hammer for the rest of my life, either, but it’s okay for now,” you were working through the revelations as you spoke them aloud. “I have a friend who is starting her own greeting card company, and she wants me to do some artwork for her. Little by little, I can make a living while still doing what I love.”

Eddie’s thoughts drifted back to the farmhouse, and how much he felt like it fit the both of you.

“Are you telling me you chose Hawkins? Really?”

You went over to situate your hips between his knees and brushed his bangs off his forehead. “No, I’m saying I choose you, asshole,” a smile tugged the side of your mouth up. “Hawkins is a bonus, yes, but I will always choose you.”

Foreheads met then, and Eddie forced out a long-held breath from between tight lips. “I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you made a mistake.”

“The only thing I regret is that I didn’t get to jump your bones in high school.”

He chuckled, repeating what he’d asked at the barbeque earlier. “Well, what about now?”

In the back of his mind he was thinking, “that John Gregson is still a dead man,” but he kept it to himself.

—----

Steve flopped down next to Astrid on the fluffy, tan sofa so violently it was as if he’d been thrown there by a force of nature. He scooted closer and pawed at her hand so that she would intertwine her fingers with his. He was reminded of all of those times as a teenager when he would get hurt on purpose just so she would patch him up. She was a couple years older and wanted nothing to do with him back then, but nevertheless he melted under the tender touch of her attention every time.

“I’m all ears,” he prodded eagerly when she did not speak right away.

Keeping Steve’s hand with hers, Astrid turned to face him and tucked her bare feet underneath her, adjusting the stretch length of her dress.

Steve watched the way her long hair fell across her neck and ample cleavage.

“Okay,” she cleared her throat. “What I need to tell you is—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, perpetually distracted.

“Steve?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

Another big inhale and then: “These past few weeks, I could tell something was…off. I thought it was early menopause because I missed my period.”

Steve stared blankly, trying not to get turned on watching her lips move.

She let her gaze fall to their hands clasped on Steve’s knee, wondering if any of it was real, or if she was still dreaming.

“Is it cancer?” He dared to ask, squeezing her hand. “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll find the best doctor at gunpoint if I have to.”

“Steve!”

“What? You’re making me crazy! Tell me everything's okay?”

“I’m not dying, Steve.”

“Well then what is it? I’ve been going out of my mind and here you are—”

“I’m pregnant.”

His body had been moving, vibrating even, but it all came to a complete halt at that.

As if he’d been flash-frozen on the spot.

A mannequin of himself; mouth open, one eyebrow up.

He shook his head, confused. “Hold on, what? But I thought you said that you—”

She played with the hem of her shawl. “I was told it was impossible. I was told it would take a miracle.”

“Wait a minute, so—” he gulped and then leaned forward to search her face, one arm scooping behind her. Her eyes were glossy again, on the verge of another wellspring.

“Is it m-my…is it my baby?” He stammered.

She could only nod, chin quivering as more tears gathered at her lash line only to race down her cheeks once she blinked.

Steve lost it then too, sucking in air before he choked on his own emotions. He brought her hand to his chest and held it there. “My baby,” he gasped, eyes flooding. “You’re having my baby. We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah,” she hiccuped and sniffed. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? How could you even think that?” He was deeply offended that she would question his reaction to something he’d wanted his whole life with her, specifically.

He was wiping her tears away with his thumbs as she spoke. “This is far from convenient, Steve. The way we both live our lives, we never planned for this. We barely have two pennies to rub together between us and—”

“Shhhh,” he kissed her nose and her eyelids and her mouth. “Money comes and goes, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, but you and this baby. Our baby.”

Our baby. He couldn’t stop saying it.

He hadn’t known about Oliver until a few days before he was born, and he always felt robbed of all that time in the womb when he could’ve bonded with his son. Tina had been a three-day fling at a music festival, and he never had any intention of seeing her again. He’d been prepared to do the right thing though, to be a family even if it killed him, but then Tina just handed him a baby boy a week old and drove away, as if he knew what the fuck he was doing.

Robin had been in the car waiting for him when it happened. She saw him standing there in the street holding that screaming baby in a blanket and right then and there, a mother was born.

He put his hand on Astrid’s stomach, gently. “Can I feel it move yet? The baby?”

She laughed into her hand as she wiped her nose. “I’m barely seven weeks along, silly.”

He curled down like he always did when he put his head in her lap, but instead he placed his ear on her stomach, massaging her thigh with his hand. “I don’t think you can hear me, little one, but daddy has loved your mother his whole life and I love you very much.”

His next words were to Astrid; a murmur into the meat of her. “Will you let me love you now? The way I’ve always wanted to? Will you stay with me?”

She scratched her fingers through his hair, and then held his head there when his arms went around her waist. They stayed like that for a long while.

A bit later, in bed with her head on his chest, he was half asleep when she whispered: “You know that twins run in my family, right?”

—------

“A geriatric pregnancy,” Steve told you from across the bar when you were both back at work the next evening to the tune of Connection by Elastica.

You made a face while you put some limes and shots of tequila on your tray.

“That’s what they call it, I guess, when a woman is over 35,” he shrugged. “A geriatric pregnancy. So, I’m forcing her to take it easy.”

He was letting you and Shana in on the good news, and he’d been grinning from ear to ear for so long, his cheeks hurt. His gold incisor caught the red lights like it had a ruby in it. He’d even been smiling in his sleep, somehow, as Astrid noticed when she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

“I’m so happy for you,” you mirrored his enthusiasm. “Does Eddie know? Wayne?”

“Not yet,” he made a loose fist and cracked his knuckles. “We wanted to tell Uncle together. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but I couldn’t wait,” he added sheepishly. “She knows I can’t keep a secret like that.”

“I’ll wait and let you give Eddie the news,” you told him. “I think he’d rather hear it from you.”

“Where is that War Machine?” Steve looked around, adjusting his sunglasses on his head. “I owe him a drink.”

“That’s a good question,” you glanced at the clock that was up by the wall-mounted tv. “He said he was going to stop by, but that was almost two hours ago.” It didn’t concern you too much because your boyfriend was a busy guy, and last-minute things were always popping up at the shop.

It was on your to-do list to call John on your break and let him know you were turning down his offer. The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if he’d planned to hire you on merit, or if he just wanted to get into your pants. When you thought about the possibility of the latter, it made your blood pressure spike.

You delivered a round of drinks to a table, and on your way back to the bar, there was a man in a suit coming through the door, holding a briefcase.

Steve gave him a nod when they made eye contact, but he didn’t ask to check his ID because the man had a graying hairline and was possibly mid-fifties at the least. He was fit though, and had a very confident demeanor about him. He looked like he was there to do business.

“My name is Saul,” he introduced himself to Steve with a handshake and Steve stood up from his stool to be eye level with him. “I’m looking for Steve Harrington.”

“You found him,” Steve rolled his neck, wondering what he could possibly want from him.

Saul gave a stiff smile that did not reach his eyes.

By then you were at the bar, acting like you were busy so that you could eavesdrop.

“What’s this about?” Steve pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.

“Well, it would behoove you to give me a moment of your time,” he moved one side of his suit jacket back to shove his hand in his pocket, rocking back on his heels.

“I have some business to discuss with you on behalf of Charlene Gregson.”

—------

John Gregson had no idea he was being followed.

He vaguely registered the sound of the loud pipes from the motorcycles rolling up to Margie’s diner, but he was having a late lunch with a business associate and didn’t pay much attention to it. He preferred white tablecloth lunch meetings, but in Hawkins there weren’t many choices. Their BLT was unbeatable though, as was the chocolate cream pie. He’d have to calculate them both into his low-carb diet and spend extra time at the gym in the morning.

He had his back to the door, making notes in his date book as the man across from him spoke over the sound of clattering dishes and silverware.

He felt the shadows pass over the table, but he figured it was a group on the way to sit at a booth further down.

But they came to a halt and loomed there, smelling of leather and tobacco.

John glanced over the top of his reading glasses at his companion first and saw that the color had drained from his face.

There were four members of the Coffin Kings glaring down at them.

Eddie frowned at the man with John and jerked his thumb to the side. “Get up,” he said. “Find somewhere else to be, I need to talk to your friend here.”

Devlin sank into the booth behind John while Van stood across the aisle flipping his butterfly knife, and Lucas stayed next to Eddie.

“Now, hold on just a—” John began to protest, about to get to his feet, but Lucas clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pushed him back down with calm, steady force.

His companion’s eyes darted from Eddie to John a few times before he gathered his things in a rush, tucking all of his papers under his arm, and shimmied past Van while holding his breath. It was clear he had no intention of going to wait at another table, he was down the row of booths and out the front door in a flash.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie sank into the seat across from John, wallet chain dragging on the vinyl as he settled in, stretching his arms wide along the back of the bench.

Lucas turned his back on the two but stood in the same spot, feet planted wide, hands in his pockets, blocking John from leaving.

With a resolute nod, John put his pen down. “Have we met? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure—”

“Cut the crap, man,” Eddie huffed with a lazy grin and hooded eyes. “You know exactly who I am.”

John took his glasses off and tucked them inside his jacket pocket. “Fair enough. How can I help you?”

Eddie plucked a pack of smokes out of the front pocket of his cut and motioned for Devlin to toss him a lighter.

“This is a no smoking section,” John reminded him, pointing to the sign on the wall with a red line through a cigarette.

Eddie stared at him as he lit the end and sucked in his cheeks until the cherry glowed orange.

He waited until after a generous exhale to speak, directing the smoke into John’s leftover pie.

“You see, John—can I call you John? I’ve been really…patient when it comes to this infatuation you have with my girl. More patient than you deserve, I think.”

John clicked his tongue. “Now, you misunderstand me, I—”

“I haven’t misunderstood shit,” Eddie scoffed a laugh.

The waitress came over, and John was sure she was going to tell him to put his cigarette out, but instead she just gave him the most flirtatious smile. “You want some coffee, hun? You hungry?”

Eddie finished taking another drag and winked at her. “Just coffee for me, darlin’,” and then he gestured to the other Coffin Kings. “Get these boys whatever they want and wrap it up to go. It’s on John’s tab.”

Once she was gone, Eddie continued. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, slick,” he reached over to tap the ash out on John’s plate. “Once she finishes this painting, you’re gonna to pay her more than what you initially offered, and then you’re never going to see her or talk to her ever again. Comprendo?”

John used the back of his fingers to push the plate a few inches away, dabbing the sides of his mouth with his napkin. “My offer for her to run my gallery in Chicago had no devious intentions, I assure you. I genuinely believe she is that talented.”

Eddie ground his teeth, jaw muscles bulging. “She’s beyond talented, you got that right, but she doesn’t want to work for you. You’re a creep. Throwing money and big promises around to get what you want. I know your type.”

“My type?”

“Has your wife ever mentioned me?” Eddie inquired, exhaling into John’s face.

He watched John visibly go rigid.

Rhonda set Eddie’s coffee cup on a saucer down in front of him with extra creamer and poured him a steaming cup.

John cleared his throat. “I think it would be in her best interest—”

“You don’t know what’s best for her,” Eddie bit. “Who are you, her fucking dad?”

He’d said it a bit too loud and a few people from other tables craned their necks to follow the sound.

Eddie leaned forward, whispering tensely. “I don’t think I have to tell you that I have friends in low places. People who will do what I say at the drop of a hat. You think you can hide behind your money? You’re wrong. The people who pump your gas and make your food and clean your bathroom? They’re all with me. You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. If you fuck with me on this, if you seek my girl out after I’ve told you not to? Well, then, I hope you like dentures sweetheart because I’m gonna pull your perfect, pearly teeth out one by one.”

By the time he was done, his hand had curled into a fist on the table. He spread the ringed fingers out wide and then made the fist again, making John look at it.

Eddie snubbed out his smoke in John’s pie with a sizzle and then settled back in his seat, relaxing his shoulders. He cocked an eyebrow up. “Are we good?”

John sat back as well. “We’re good,” he acknowledged stiffly, adjusting his suit jacket.

Eddie slapped the table and gave John a wink. “Well, this was fun,” he chuckled. “We should catch up more often.”

He took a quick gulp of his coffee and slid out of the booth.

He stopped to bend over and whisper, “don’t forget to tip well, slick,” in John’s ear on his way out.

—-------

By the time Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer, swatting away plumes of second-hand smoke as he went, everyone knew that Steve was going to be a dad again. Even the new customers who’d barely just walked in the door that evening.

Astrid had prepared for this.

One of the many complicated reasons she’d waited more than a week to tell him was because she’d known that, if he knew, he’d be announcing it to everyone he passed by on the street.

Steve jumped from his stool and hugged Eddie. “I’ve got great news, man,” he clapped Eddie a few times on the arm, over the thick leather jacket he had on.

Eddie had been on his way across the room to you when his friend stopped him, so the sudden affection took him off guard. “I like good news,” he caught your eye over Steve’s shoulder and smirked.

Steve let him know that he was going to be a dad again, which Eddie assumed would happen sooner than later, but he was surprised and delighted to know that Astrid was the mom. They both knew that she’d been told it would be nearly impossible for her to conceive.

Steve leaned in. “This proves it, man, I have a magic dick.”

“Sure you do,” Eddie scoffed, patting Steve on the cheek a few times. “Only took you 15 years.”

Before you could greet him, Eddie was already in front of you, pulling you flush to his body. He started to walk and you took backwards steps to stay with him. “Can you take your break right now?”

“I wasn’t going to for another hour but—”

“I need to talk to you,” he hushed.

“Um, okay, well,” you glanced over at Shana and she waved you off.

His mouth found yours the second you were obscured in the dark hallway. You figured he’d be escorting you out to the alley where you usually took your breaks with him so he could smoke, but this time, he pulled you into one of the two unisex bathrooms and locked it behind him. The bulbs inside were red, and it set an eerie, bloodwashed glow.

“This place sees a lot of action,” you mumbled into his kiss as he worked your skirt up so that he could take a handful of the meat of your ass. “I like to call it Steve’s Office.”

Before you knew what was happening, he was hoisting you up onto the sink counter with a grunt. Your thighs and bum were fully exposed now, covered in fishnet stockings, and one of his hands held your face while the other rubbed a knuckle over the heat between your legs. Your panties and stockings were preventing him from going further, but not for long.

You were about to protest, to say you had to get back to work, or to remind him how many women Steve had probably railed in that very spot, but

Fuck

And just when you softened with a shaky moan, he kissed a trail down your jaw and throat, with a few nibbles in between.

You whimpered, spreading your legs further apart, Doc Marten booted feet locking onto his thighs to keep him close.

“I have something..” smooch “...that I need…” smooch “...to ask you…” smooch

“Right now?” You palmed his hard length over his denim and then went to work at undoing his belt buckle. “We only have 10 minutes.”

He leaned back, letting his cherry bitten lips hover there at eye level. His bangs were getting too long, he needed a trim, and you brushed them to the side, off of his eyebrows.

“Do you want to move in with me?”

You blinked a few times. “Into your apartment?”

“No, no,” eager lips found your mouth again and his thumb rubbed circles over the taut nub of your nipple through your shirt. “The big farmhouse down on Marigold Road. I pointed it out once when we drove by.”

You stopped. “The old Ferguson place? Aren’t there people already living there?”

“Not anymore,” he could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear and he hissed, grinding his erection against your thigh. “I want to buy it. For us.”

In your desperation, you reached down and clawed at the section of black fishnet that was keeping him from you, ripping a little further down your thigh than you’d intended to.

Eddie kissed down the front of you on the way to his knees, and then your underwear was pulled to one side and his tongue was on your swollen clit, rolling in circles there.

You dug your fingers into his hair with one hand and supported yourself on the ledge with the other. He sucked a few times, and then his tongue went inside of you, and you bit your lip, squirming to try and repress a scream.

“That is a big step,” you gasped. “Moving in together.”

For the longest time, you couldn’t see yourself living with anyone other than a roommate ever again.

He hummed on your now soaked cunt and then kitten licked it a few times. “I’m ready. Are you?”

You didn’t respond at first because your eyes were rolling back in your head, so he popped off to get to his feet, his chin glistening. He spread your thighs further apart to make room for his hips and undid his zipper.

His pupils bloomed wide as he searched your lustful eyes, insecurities making his heart rate quicken. “Are you not ready? I mean, do you not want that? Is it too soo—”

But then you silenced him with your mouth, lapping up your juices from his chin, moving away a strand of his hair that had stuck there. “I want to see the inside. Could we go look at it together?”

“Yeah we can,” he pushed his boxers down and rubbed the tip of his leaking cock along your slit. “I’ll call the real estate dude in the morning.”

You clung to his neck, jaw going slack as he sank in. “I’ll have to check with Charlie.”

He chucked into the kiss at you mentioning your cat, and then he was stretching you out, easing his way in, aching to be one with you.

“Deeper…more,” you whimpered, and then you each let out a muffled cry when he filled you to the hilt, flush inside of your pulsing heat.

He rested his forehead on yours and began to work his hips, thrusting deep and retreating with a curl of his hips so that you could feel every vein, every ridge, but then you were clenching around him, and he sped up with a curse, a thumb working at your clit.

“This…fuck, I’m going to cum so hard inside of you,” he admitted with a huff. His belt buckle clinked against his zipper with every thrust. “You want that? You want all of me?”

“Fuck, Eddie, yes,” You whined, clinging to him as stars exploded behind your eyes.

His strong fingers dug into your flesh to hold your legs in place, and after a few more shaking pumps, he was spilling inside of you, each of you a moaning mess of “I love yous”, clawing at the other to be closer.

Someone banged on the door just as the two of you were catching your breath and Eddie was still inside of you.

“Get lost!” Eddie yelled, not caring if it was a customer.

“Are you two having a tea party in there? Cabbage Patch meeting perhaps?”

It was Steve, and then you could hear his ruckus laughter as he banged another few times just to be cheeky.

You adjusted your underwear back into place, and Eddie fastened his jeans before he helped you down off the counter. You pulled your skirt down and checked yourself in the mirror.

Yikes.

The rip down your inner thigh was painfully obvious. You wondered if shredding them in a few more places would make it more of “a look”, but then realized that the lighting in the Hammer was not great, and it wasn’t unheard of for someone to accidentally rip their stockings at work.

But what about when Eddie’s seed started to drip down your leg?

“You go,” you shooed him away as he stood there adjusting the collar of his jacket, waiting for you. “I need to pee.”

He was looking at himself in the mirror, rubbing lipstick off his cheek, but then he turned just before grabbing for the door. “If you don’t want to, you know, live together right away, I get it. But with Katie moving in with Robin and all, I figured—”

“You figured we could be roommates?”

He smirked, giving a bashful shrug. “A little more than that, maybe. Roommates with benefits.”

“Yeah?” You sank against his chest, forever helpless to his gravitational pull. “What kind of benefits?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he rubbed the sides of your arms with his calloused hands. “I’ll make you pancakes.”

“You think you can make pancakes?”

“Baby, I've told you before, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

—-------

“WAYNE!”

Uncle entered the Hammer and everyone screamed his name like he was Norm in an episode of Cheers.

It had been a while since he dropped by unannounced, and he looked better than ever.

Still much thinner than he had been the year before, and it was hard for him to catch his breath sometimes, but his eyes were bright, and he wore a soft smile more often than not.

Maybe the chemo was working? Maybe there was hope?

Devlin had been sitting on the stool at the bar next to Eddie, but Eddie was quick to tell him to take a hike when Wayne showed up.

“What did the doctor say?” He asked as his uncle straddled the stool and got comfortable. He was in a green and white plaid work shirt and had decided to leave his Coffin Kings leather at home.

Wayne gave a single nod and patted around for his smokes out of habit, even though he’d given it up when he started treatment. “Just heard Steve's gonna be a dad again. He better treat her right, that's all I can say." It was obvious he was damn near giddy at the thought, Eddie could see it in the way a smile kept tugging at the sides of his mouth. "I’m sick of talking about doctors and my goddamn condition. Want to forget about it for a night.”

Eddie respected that, and tapped the bar to order him one of those non-alcoholic beers that they kept cold specifically for Wayne and one other regular patron.

You barely had a chance to give Wayne a shoulder squeeze when Robin burst in through the door, frantically scanning the crowd. There was a dancer on the backstage, working her way down the poll, and Steve had gone over to remind a few rowdy customers to behave themselves. Robin rushed over and met him halfway, in front of the glowing jukebox.

He found no comfort in the way she looked like she’d been crying.

“What’s going on?” Felt like his heart literally stopped beating in his chest. “Are you okay?”

“The spare key,” she held her palm out. “You used it last time and now I’m locked out of the house.”

He felt around in his back pocket. “Where are your regular keys?”

She rolled her eyes, bouncing in frustration. “I lost them somewhere, okay? At work maybe, I’m not sure, but Oliver just threw a fit, I’m on my period, and we’re all just in a really bad mood and want to go home.”

“Alright, alright, here take my key,” he wrestled it off the metal ring to hand it to her. “Just remember to leave the back door unlocked for me. Is Oliver in the car?”

“No, he’s at Katie’s place with her, I needed to take a drive alone so that I could scream,” she snatched the key from him.

“Shit, you had me worried for a second.”

“Sorry,” admittedly, she felt like she was overreacting to something so small and fixable, but more likely her tears were from an accumulation of things. Once the panic spike subsided, her eyes landed on half of a white envelope peeking out of the pocket of his Coffin Kings leather, right above his TAZ insignia. She always teased him and said his official nickname should’ve been Dingus.

“What’s this?” It looked like it had some official lettering in the corner, and she plucked it out to look closer.

They made their way back to the front so he could keep an eye on the door, and she frowned at the name of a law office in the corner.

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet,” he shrugged. “Some douchey lawyer brought it by, said it was from Charlene. It was busy when he came in, so he gave me that to read and told me to call him in the morning.”

“Fucking Charlene?” She balked. “What, is she suing you for not wanting to be her boyfriend?”

“I haven’t had time to open in, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

A group of people came in, and two looked like they were 16, so Steve carded them.

Robin ripped the top of the envelope open. You stepped in front of her on your way to a table, and the two of you collided.

You said a quick apology and were about to ask if she wanted a drink, when Shana shouted across the bar to tell Robin the phone was for her.

“It’s your boss from the motel,” Shana continued, holding her hand over the bottom half of the receiver.

Robin gave a heavy, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s going to ask me to work a double shift tomorrow, I just know it.”

She shoved the paperwork at you that she’d just unfolded, but not yet read. “Hold this for me? Be right back.”

“Oh—okay,” you had the paperwork pressed flat to your chest as you made your way over to stand at Eddie’s shoulder. He was talking to Wayne, but he reached back and squeezed your thigh in greeting.

You hadn’t meant to look, to eavesdrop on their private business.

But once glance was all it took

For you to be fully invested

Charlene’s name was the first thing to catch your eye

And then, The Velvet Hammer

You took a few long blinks, unsure if what you were looking at was real.

You mouthed a few of the words quietly just to make sure you were reading them correctly.

The way you froze made Eddie curious, and he turned his head to see what you were doing.

“What’s up babe? What is that?”

“It’s, uh—” you stammered. “It’s Steve’s. You’re never going to believe this, but um—”

“Can I see it?”

He tried to meet your eyes as he took it from you, but you couldn’t seem to look away from the words on the paper. Your mind was reeling.

Robin returned just as Eddie held the papers out in front of him, and she steadied herself with a hand on his back to read over his shoulder.

Steve meandered over; his curiosity officially piqued at what you were all huddled together about.

“What’s it say?” He had a smoke bobbing between his lips and his hands in his pockets. “Did I win the lottery or somethin’?”

He chuckled, but then you all turned to him in unison, unblinking, mouths agape.

“Yeah man,” a smile curled on Eddie’s lips. “Actually, you kinda did.”

—------

Charlene was on the plane to Hawaii when she read the newspaper article.

A glass of first-class champagne and a window to her right, an empty aisle seat to her left.

There he was, right on the front page of The Hawkins Post:

Steve.

In a bigger city, a business changing hands could fly under the radar, but in a small town, it was newsworthy when a local biker and bouncer becomes a business owner overnight.

A Cinderella story, the reporter called it.

The cover photo was of him out on the sidewalk, standing next to the red door entrance to the Velvet Hammer. Shana was in the photo with him, as were Robin, Jackie, Erika, and you.

Not pictured was Eddie Munson, whom the article mentioned Steve had chosen to take on as a partner.

The article talked about their plans for the Hammer, including bringing in a tattoo studio to the vacant storage space next door.

She ran her finger over his face on the newsprint.

It wasn’t until the end of the article that she got the wind knocked out of her:

“Steve and his longtime partner, Astrid Bautista, are expecting their first child together in the spring.”

She hadn’t expected that.

She had to look away and take a generous gulp of champagne.

Her eyes got a little wet and her vision blurred, but she read it again.

“Did you miss me?” Billy sank into the seat next to her with his sunglasses on and a white shirt unbuttoned almost to the waist of his jeans. He smiled around the pink gum he was chewing and craned his neck to see what she was reading, but she folded the paper hastily and turned it over.

She didn’t answer him, she just stared out the window over the clouds and tried to forget she ever felt a thing.

------

authors note: wow, we did it. This is my first fic series to finish ever 😭 If you've made it this far, you know how much this story and the characters have evolved since those first couple chapters. If this were an actual novel, I'd go back and make it all sync up, give it more continuity, and reveal nicknames like War Machine and Taz earlier in the game. But the cool thing about posting this way for a fandom is that you, the reader, are able to see in real time how the characters develop a mind of their own and take over the story in a way not even the writer can predict. In this case specifically, you can also see how I went from having no idea how to write a reader insert fic to becoming more and more comfortable with it.

I never had any intention of making Charlene a villain. She was literally based off of the wealthy woman in the Bruce Springsteen video for his song I'm on Fire. Just a gal who had a crush on her mechanic. Some of you voiced that you wished Charlene could get killed, or hurt somehow, and for those of you, you can trust that she is hurting. Knowing that Steve will be having a family with someone else is a deep wound.

I've had several requests for a separate biker Steve story with a new reader, and until two chapters ago, I fully intended to follow through on that. But the more I wrote him with Astrid, the more I felt it was wrong to keep them apart. If you are a fan of their love story, I highly recommend visiting THIS masterlist from @texasblues who created Astrid's character. But I do plan to bring a slightly different biker Steve back in a new au, stay tuned 🥰

This of course, is not the end. I plan to drop an epilogue on you all when you least expect it, and it will take place a year or two after the events here. If you are a friend of mine, you will laugh at this because whenever I say I'm going to write an epilogue, I never do. But this time I mean it.

I can't express in words how much your comments, asks, and messages about this story have meant, and will always mean to me. I was living through one of the darkest years of my life when I joined tumblr back in April and started writing this fic, and you all have held me together, whether you realize it or not. I love you and am deeply grateful for you all.

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

#Eddie Munson #biker!eddie #biker!steve #I'm on Fire #final chapter #the ties that bind #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson fic #Spotify

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imnotjaesblog · 4 days

Text

Part Two: The Slytherin

Starring: Na Jaemin

Mood: "I think I'm gonna lose my mind. Something deep inside me, I can't give up"

(Fireproof lyric for the 1D girlies).

Warnings: Fighting, Smut, Oral (F. receiving). Y/n is lowkey a dom but only if you squint, Jaemin is an ass, Use of pet names, and Cursing.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!

Enjoy;)

You had placed the paper away. Inside the pages between your Spells textbook. You fixed your posture as the professor spoke. Paying full attention to the lesson he discussed showing how to make Amortentia and explaining why it was so dangerous.

"The most powerful love potion in existence," he said with a wave of his finger and a sly smirk on his lips. He stood in front of the class walking around and speaking to every student.

"Smelling differently to each person according to what they find attractive, the potion was considered dangerous as it could induce obsessive infatuation in the unsuspecting drinker," he said, returning down the aisle and to the old wooden table.

He cleared his throat. "Now," he began walking behind the desk where the cauldron sat. "I will allow you to come up to the cauldron. I am curious to hear what you smell," he said interesting smile on his lips.

"I shall call you one by one and you can choose to let the class know what is it that you smell," he said scanning the room.

"Lee Jeno why don't you come up first," he said motioning to come forward. Everyone turned to Jeno. Jeno's stern look fell looking around the room. He sighed standing up. Renjun's shoulders finally fell feeling much more relaxed away from Jeno.

Jeno walked down the aisle. He barely spared you a glance as he walked past your seat. Jaemin chuckled next to you. Lifting his head from his chin. He leaned close to you.

"This shall be interesting, huh?" he asked sniggering. You rolled your eyes brushing Jaemin away. You turned to your textbook studying different spells. Ones that didn't involve love.

"You know. Darling," he began gliding his finger to yours. Throwing in the much-hated nickname. Tapping it on your busy index finger. You pulled away with a huff. Turning your body to the side. Jaemin chuckled deeply. He stared at the back of your head. He leaned in closer peering over your shoulder. His lips are drawn closer to your ear.

"If you stay stuck in that book, darling, you'll miss this," he whispered, smirking. You looked up curious to see Jeno standing in front of the class. Eyes closed and nostrils flared. A soft smile formed on his lips. He hummed at the smell of a pink aura leaving the cauldron. The professor stood beside him just as interested as the class. "Well what do you smell?" he asked. Jeno opened his eyes shaking the smell away from his nose. He flicked the end of his nose to avoid eye contact with the class.

"What do you think he smelled darling?" Jaemin asked you gentle whisper on the skin of your neck. You shuddered goosebumps from Jaemin's warm breath and curiosity from the scent Jeno smelled. Jeno cleared his throat shifting his robe.

"I didn't smell anything. All could smell was something sweet, like candy," he said briefly meeting your eyes. You sighed rolling your eyes as you turned away only to be met with Jaemin's big eyes. He smirked head leaning on his hand. He waved to you. You sneered.

"Y/n I think that girl over there," he said motioning to the same girl from before sitting right behind where Jeno sat. She smiled at him as he sat back down gently touching his back. You turned away back to Jaemin.

"What about her?" you asked scanning through the pages of your textbook. He chuckled licking his lips and turning from the girl to you. "She smells sweet," he said. You attempted to ignore him. Jaemin noticed your change in attitude and felt the tension rise between the two of you. He could feel the annoyance radiate from your body and loved it.

"But," he flicked his tongue. "I bet you don't taste as good as she does," he said. You went to argue back but the professor called Jaemin's name up next to smell the potion. You glared at him as he walked away proud smirk on his lips.

However, you'd be lying if his comments didn't get to you in ways they shouldn't.

Jaemin smugly walked up to the table. Everyone watching, is way whole lot more interested in Jaemin than they were in Jeno. Even you were a bit more interested to see if Jaemin could smell anything from the cauldron. He walked up to the black cauldron smoke stirring around the rim. The professor motioned him closer. He sniffed the pot but shrugged.

"I don't smell anything," he said. The professor frowned nodding his head. He patted Jaemin's back. "That's quite alright," he said motioning Jaemin to sit back down.

He sat down beside you this time looking away. For the rest of the class, he didn't make any sly comments to you. He kept to himself until the professor neared the end of his class.

"Alright," he began. "Even though Amortentia is quite dangerous I have paired each of you with a witch or wizard cable enough to reject its obsession with power and smell to create the spell on your own, in pairs," he said. Everyone feeling excited about finally being able to use magic looked around at one another. Whispering to each other. Couples giggling along with one another and students eye their crushed with their friends.

You peered back eyes meeting with Renjun in hopes of getting him as your pairing. He smiled back at you.

"As I read out the pairings you may leave with your partner and grab the materials you will need to be successful. You will have two days to perfect the potion," he said cheerful smile on his face in a sea full of frowns. He cleared his throat pulling his wand out. He used his wand to make a piece of paper from his desk float to him. Satisfied with his list he began to read it out.

"Caroline and Giselle," he read out loud. The two girls sat at opposite ends of the classroom. They stood reaching each other. They shared greetings and traveled to the table full of materials. They grabbed what they needed and then left. You turned away from Renjun waiting to hear your name with his.

"Nathaniel and Elenia," he said watching as the two stood up. Everyone sat eagerly waiting for their name to be called. The professor crossed out their names.

"Samnatha and Jeno," he spoke. Everyone's eyes turned to two. Jeno stood up and the girl behind him stood up as well. You didn't even realize you were watching them until you heard Jaemin's voice behind you.

"Darling," he teased gently fanning your neck. "Your staring," he whispered eyes following where yours were. You looked away once your eyes had met with Jeno. Jaemin smiled leaning back in his chair. "It seems like she is gonna enjoy being his partner," he said watching you attempt to not watch the pair. They gathered their materials.

He looked back at the two. "Just look at the smile on her face," he joked.

"Can you shut it," you bit back irritated by his stupid side comments. His eyes moved to yours. Your neck peering over your shoulder and your face warm from both frustration and embarrassment. Jaemin was reading you like a book. He leaned forward, "Am I wrong?" he asked. You turned to the two deciding to ignore him.

Once Renjun was paired with Chenle you quickly realized you were never going to get paired with Renjun. Giselle, Nathaniel, Samantha, and Renjun were all smarter and more experienced than their partners. You looked around the room eyes meeting Yeji's. She smiled at you and you prayed that she was your partner. But when her name was called with Haechan's you began to lose hope.

That left you, a few other students, and Jaemin. You looked over at Jaemin who was just waiting for the moment your name was called. He sent you a smirk big eyes wide and staring deep into yours. You huffed turning away. Hoping you'd get anyone else but him.

"And finally,"

"No," you said to yourself frown on your lips.

"Y/n and Jaemin," he said looking at both of you. Jaemin smiled standing up. You remained in your seat arms crossed over your chest. You turned to your professor. "There must be a mistake," you spoke freely being that only you and Jaemin were left.

The professor turned away waving his finger. "No, no, no," he said shaking his head. "I make no mistakes," he said returning to his desk. He gathered his things placing them into a draw. You rushed to his desk. Your hands fall onto the wooden table. "Professor you can't be serious," you pleaded. Jaemin remained at the desk leaning against arms crossed over his chest. He stood smugly watching finding it assuming as you attempted to get rid of him.

"Professor forgive me but he is incompetent," you whined. The professor sighed having enough of your complaints. He rubbed his temples placing a hand on his hip.

"Ms. Y/L I already told you, like I told the class. I placed an incredible witch with a, well," he motioned to Jaemin who had only been half listening. He only perked up his ears when he heard you whining.

"You Y/n are an incredible witch. I'm sure you'll be able to work with Mr.Na," he ushered you back to him handing you a few veils you would need. He placed them in a brown bag. He handed the bag to you and sent the two of you away.

You walked out of the classroom holding the bag close to you.

"You know darling," Jaemin began from behind you. You huffed stopping causing the front of him to hit your back. "Yes?" you asked. He circled you wrapping around to face your front. Cocky smirk on his lips. He glanced down at the bag. He reached for it but you pulled away.

"It would be better if I held onto the bag," he suggested. You let a loud laughter causing some of the students to stare. You raised a brow as your laughter died down. "Trust you with holding onto this?" you motioned with your head to the brown bag. You scoffed seeing him nod.

"I wouldn't even trust you to care for a fish," you teased moving around him. His jaw dropped for a moment, offended. He turned to follow you again. He placed his hand on his chest. "I think that is the most hurtful thing you ever said to me," he said pretending you had upset him.

"I can be very trustworthy," he said with a proud smile.

"That's exactly what untrustworthy people say Jaemin," you said deadpan look on your face. His smile dropped. He shrugged, "Whatever," he said remaining by your side. You walked into the library. People eyeing the two of you, mainly you, seeing you were with Na Jaemin walking into the library together. Everyone knew this was one of the spots he'd bring girls to fuck.

People were just surprised to see you with him.

"There starring," he whispered. His chin is close to your shoulder. You looked around. "At you," you said, walking away to an empty chair. People still stared at the two of you. Jaemin shook his head. He pulled out the wooden seat beside you. "Not at me," he said leaning back in his seat. Smug smirk on his lips exposing his teeth.

"At you darling," he said cheeky smile on his lips.

You brushed him off but you'd be lying if you didn't say the eyes around you weren't making you uncomfortable. You're trying to focus on the book in front of you. Reading through the spells attempting to explain to Jaemin what it was you needed to do. Jaemin, who could care less, sat back tapping his thumbs waiting for you to finish. But you couldn't focus.

The whispers around you got louder. You could feel the heat in your body rise. Jaemin still unnoticed to the overwhelming amount of breaths that escaped your lips. It felt like everyone was watching you. Waiting to see you stand up fingers locked with Jaemin as he guided you to the last bookcase at the end of the library. Students eager to lean to their friends and say, "I told you so,"

It was too much. You stood up, abruptly, catching Jaemin's attention. He raised his brow leaning forward in his seat. He eyed you, up and down. "Y/n, darling are you alright?" he asked. His hand hovered over your back. You nodded placing a hand on your chest calming yourself. Jaemin's hand ghosted over the small of your back. You brushed him away taking the brown bag and textbook in your hands.

"I'm fine," you spoke quickly. You fled the library raising more concerns and questions from students. Once the library doors closed behind you you felt relieved. You let out a breath. The moment was short-lived when the doors opened again. You sighed lips pursing as you turned ready to be faced with Jaemin but instead met Renjun's eyes.

"Oh," you said surprised. "It's only you," you said.

"You say that like it is unpleasant," he joked. The gentle smile on his lips calmed you.

"I apologize. The room just felt suffocating," you spoke freely. Renjun nodded understandingly.

"No worries. I saw you with Jaemin," he said adjusting the frames on his face. "I heard others talking as well. Are you alright?" he asked. You nodded thankful you ran into Renjun. "I'm fine. It was just too much. Once Jaemin pointed out that everyone was staring at us it made me insecure," you said. Renjun nodded along giving you the space to share your feelings.

"I hate that people assume I was one of his "girls", you huffed annoyed. You looked away for a moment shaking your head. Letting out a small shrug followed by a sigh. "I could and would never be with someone so beneath me," you scoffed now feeling the same rise in you again. "The same boy who's toyed with with me since year one is the reason I'm standing outside the library while he sits inside acting as if everything is normal," you said readjusting the brown bag in your arms that began to feel heavy sitting in your hands.

Just as Renjun went to speak the doors opened and Jaemin came out the doors. You looked up at his face expecting to see a smirk or dark gleam in his eyes but instead, you found a stone-cold stare and flexed jaw. He moved past Renjun completely acting as if the smaller man was not standing there. He looked down into your eyes darkly. A forced smile on his pink lips.

"Let's go. We have a project to finish my darling," he said sweetly masking the coldness in his voice. He sent a look at Renjun, a small smile. Renjun went to say something but Jaemin had already grabbed onto your arm and made his way quickly down the hallway. Jaemin pushed past some people as you tried to pry him off. Most students glanced finding the situation odd.

"Jaemin where are we going?" you asked but failed to receive a response.

"Let go," you tried to pull away again but to no avail.

Jaemin stopped for a moment looking around. "There," he said nudging his head to the courtyard. Confused you pulled your arm away when he grabbed onto it again. He huffed a piece of his hair falling forward. "Darling don't be difficult," he spoke casually. You grimaced at him yanking your arm away. He successfully grabbed onto you again moving to the courtyard.

"Jaemin!" you shouted. Catching a certain friend group's attention. Jaemin stopped rolling his eyes at your dramatics. "What," he huffed. You yanked your arm away. "Where are you taking me?" You asked. He sighed placing a hand on his hip. "To a certain spot of mine," he said.

"What kind of spot?" you asked taking a step back. Jaemin noting your reaction shook his head. "Not that kind of spot. I would never take you to that spot," he said.

"Ew Jaemin," you said back disgusted. He shrugged once again not understanding your reaction. "What? You should be happy I'm not taking you there," he said.

"Oh trust me I'm more than grateful I'm not one of your many girls chosen to be in, what I'm assuming, one of your many spots," you said back trying to fix the breaking cheap brown bag in your hand. Jaemin lent his hand out to take the bag but you pulled away brows furrowed. He shrugged.

"I would never take you to any of those spots," he said a little more seriously. You fixed the sleeve of your robe that Jaemin had grabbed onto. "Oh yeah?" you raised your brow. "Not that I care but why is that?" you asked.

"You don't fuck guys who are beneath you," he responded. You went to respond cursing at him for eavesdropping on your conversation with Renjun but Jaemin turned and his front was met with Jeno's.

Jaemin had hit Jeno’s chest hard. Forced to take a step back. Jeno’s eyes pierced into Jaemin’s. His jaw tightens and his eyes briefly flick to you. He readjusted himself back to Jaemin who now stood straight in front of Jeno smirk on his lips.

If he wasn’t bothering you he was pissing off Jeno.

“Is there a problem?” Jeno asked. The question was for you but he directed it to Jaemin. Jaemin shrugged peering over at you and then back at the darker-haired man. He shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he responded. Jeno let out a huff tongue poking the inside of his mouth. He normally wasn’t like this. Chest buffed up to anyone who crossed him. He preferred to ignore immature people and comments in his life. But Jaemin was different. From year one to now no one has ever hated Na Jaemin more than Jeno. He just always found a way to crawl under his skin. A true talent on Jaemin’s part. Have everyone hate you and still have people who want to fuck you.

Jeno couldn’t stand Jaemin. He was a hard problem to ignore.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he spoke darkly jaw flexing. His eyes shifted to you. You stood half your body covered by Jaemin’s. The scene between them is tense. It made you cautious to speak. If the two of them started fighting you wouldn’t get involved. You aren’t a fool. Which is why you turned to walk away. But Jaemin, quick, grabbed your arm.

“Let her go,” Jeno said placing his hand on Jaemin’s arm. Gripping hard on his skin. Jaemin pulled back his face scrunched in pain. Jeno ignored him. His hand replaced Jaemin’s. His eyes softened.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You pulled away. “I’m fine,” you said flicking the end of your robe. “I don’t need you to fight for me,” you said back. Jeno sighed shaking his head. He turned back to Jaemin sending him one last look before walking away.

Jaemin incapable of not knowing when to stop laughed. Your eyes moved from Jeno’s back to Jaemin. Eyes wide staring at him laugh at Jeno. You shook your head reaching out to grab his arm. Motioning for him to stop. His laughter died down as Jeno stopped. The smug smirk still on his lips. He pulled his arm away from you.

Now everyone was watching.

"You ruined everything for her haven't you captain? And now what? Trying to make peace?" he questioned seeing how far he could push Jeno. He chuckled seeing Jeno pause turning around. His friends tried to calm him down but Jeno only saw red.

"Jaemin stop," you whispered yelled. He brushed you off. "Don't worry darling. He's a coward," he spat. Jaemin just never knew when to shut the fuck up.

Jeno turned back around marching to Jaemin. His face is bright red and his cheeks flushed to the tips of his ears. He tugged onto Jaemin’s collar gritting his teeth. He shot daggers into his eyes. Looking for any change in Jaemin, fear or regret. But instead, he just found the same stupid smile he so badly wanted to rip right off his face.

You stood back frozen. There was no way you were getting in the middle of this fight. You’d call for them to stop. But they didn’t listen. They ignored your call and a few others. Everyone else just wanted to see a fight. A fight they had been waiting a long time for.

“I’m tired of your shit Jaemin,” Jeno cursed yanking Jaemin’s collar. Jaemin didn’t fight back he just stood there unable to move away.

“What are you gonna do about it then? Hit me?” He said back light chuckle leaving his lips. He dropped his eyes but kept his smile. Wicked expression on his face. He shrugged.

“Go ahead. But just know…,” he said ushering his head to you. “She’ll never forgive you,” he whispered licking his tongue against his teeth. Jeno grunted lifting him off the ground and slamming Jaemin, hard onto the grass. Everyone gasped watching Jaemin’s body on the floor. He grabbed into the grass lifting himself back up.

“Oh, what nothing to say now?” Jeno taunted flicking his head to the side. His chest rose and fell. Jaemin didn’t respond. Instead just lifts himself back up from the wet ground. Your jaw had dropped hand reaching to cover your mouth. Jeno lifted his foot pushing Jaemin back down causing him to land on his stomach. Jaemin groaned.

Jeno bent down to Jaemin’s level.

“This is your last chance. Walk away Jaemin and leave me and her alone,” he warned. He spoke sternly eyes finding Jaemin’s. Jaemin turned his head to Jeno a small smirk forming on his lips. Jaemin once again let out a dark chuckle. Jeno’s head tilted confused.

“Where is the fun in that?” He asked slowly lifting himself from the ground.

“Besides,” he said pressing his hand onto his knee to help him stand straight up. He dusted his hands and fixed his robe.

“If I leave her alone how else will she be able to smell me in the caldron?” He teased. He turned to you eyes glowing. “Come darling we have a project to start,” he said this time extending his arm to you. To be stunned by the entire situation you remained speechless. Giving Jeno enough time to spin Jaemin around by the shoulder and lay his fist on his mouth.

Jaemin’s head flew back. Jeno hadn’t even flinched but he could feel the pain in his knuckles. Jaemin brought his head back blood forming at the bottom of his lip. He licked it proud smile on his face.

“Do you think that will shut me up?” He asked Jeno. Jaemin ready to fight back was fortunately stopped by one of the professors. The two were forced to be pulled apart and taken away from the eyes of the students.

You were left alone standing in the middle of the wet courtyard confused.

Yeji appeared slushing through the wet grass to your side. Her eyes are wide matching your level of confusion. She touched your shoulder. You peered your head over at her.

"What just happened?" she asked. You shrugged the confusion turning into frustration. "I don't know," you said upset frown forming on your lips.

You marched down the empty hallway. All the students had returned to their dorms for the night. Jaemin hadn't returned since the courtyard scene yesterday. Around dinner time you became worried. Your leg bounces underneath the table. Both Yeji and Renjun sitting across from you concerned.

All of the dinner Jaemin had been the only thing on your mind.

"What if he got expelled?" you asked. Your food sat untouched in front of you. Renjun didn't answer getting annoyed with your concerns for Jaemin. A man you didn't even like was finally gone and yet you sat here worried like his lover.

Yeji shrugged also confused by the new worries for Jaemin. She would have assumed some part of you would be curious enough to ask about Jeno. But you didn't.

"I don't think so. He's got into trouble but never a fight. I'm sure they'' let him off easy," she said trying to calm your nerves. You nodded the brown bag beside you slightly falling to the side. You looked at it. The holes were getting bigger from the rain. You took out your wand but Renjun stopped you. Doing it for you he fixed the bag.

"Thank you," you said to him. He nodded, "No worries," he slipped his wand back into his sleeve.

"I promise my worries about Jaemin are for the simple fact that I need to pick up my grades and if I don't do this project I'll fail," you pleaded. Your brows furrowed as your head met your palm.

Yeji sighed lifting the fork to her lips. "Maybe you can do it without him?" she asked. You shook your head pouting.

"She can't. The directions say you have to complete it with your partner," Renjun responded speaking for you. You were too busy pouting thinking about everyone in your life who'd be so disappointed in you if you returned home a failure. You wouldn't be able to continue your research and travel the world searching for new spells to create. You'd just be a failure, especially after making it so far.

You three sat quietly. Thinking about what to say next. Just as Yeji went to speak, the dining room doors had opened. You all turned to see both Jeno and Jaemin walking down the hall. Serious features are written on both their faces. Jeno's arm flexed hands forming a fist. Jaemin kept his hands in his robe.

Jeno was the first to sit down, finding his friend group and sitting beside them on the bench. Samantha kindly rubbed circles on his back. Jaemin kept walking down the dining hall. Everyone's eyes now solely turned on him. His friend group of Slytherin boys waiting for him to return.

But he didn't. He walked right past them. He made his way to the area you sat at. Even though he wasn't supposed to, he did. He slid across from you. Frown turning into a small smirk. Yeji scooted over from him both confused and disgusted. Renjun rolled his eyes sitting an inch closer to you. Jaemin had caught the look in his eyes but didn't care. He wasn't here for them. He was here for you.

"Hi," he said with a small wave. You dropped the fork in your hand. You hadn't realized how tight you were holding onto it. Yeji and Renjun both watching you concerned. You stood up from the table. Walking down the hall and away from Jaemin. Who was just as quick to rise from the table and follow you?

"Stop," Jaemin demanded from behind you. You continued marching through the empty hallways. "I will stop when I have reached where I need to be," you responded. Quick on your feet you swiftly turned the corner. Your black robe swayed side to side flowing through the dark hallways. The moon illuminated through the pillars of the courtyard.

Jaemin huffed but remained on your tail.

You turned once more to the stairs. Climbing up the dark spiral staircase. "Darling while I wouldn't mind following you to a spot alone," He waited a bit for you to react to the stupid pet name. When you ignored him he shrugged. "I'm sure I won't enjoy this very much so please tell me where we are going?" Jaemin asked holding onto the railing. Pausing for a breath.

You continued, face serious. The brown bag floated beside you. "To finish our project," you said not sparing him a second of rest. You reached a brown wooden door. Opening it and not holding it. Jaemin caught up to the door sliding through the small space between barely making it.

Your eyes had spotted the potions classroom. You waved your hand, the same hand with your wand hidden inside your sleeve, and the door opened. The classroom is dark and empty. A few drips fell from the sink. You walked inside the room and Jaemin peered behind you and peeked into the classroom.

"Darling we can't be in here," he states behind you. You scoffed dropping your bag down on a nearby table.

"Since when do you care for the rules?" you asked. You settled down on a chair. Pulling out your textbook and opening it to the page you left your bookmark.

"The project is due tomorrow Jaemin," you called to the dark-haired boy who was roaming around the wooden cases of potions. He perked his head up looking in your direction. You looked over at him. You motioned your hand towards yourself. "And since you decided you wanted to fight with Jeno. We are stuck pulling an all-nighter. Luckily this isn't my first time," you said setting up at the desk you sat at during class.

Jaemin appeared behind you. "But it's my first time and I'm very nervous darling so please be gentle," he said. You brushed him off and he chuckled darkly walking off to where a bunch of cabinets sat.

"No time for games. Get over here before you get us caught," you whisper yelled. Jaemin placed a purple vile down and made his way to you. Bored expression on his face as he sat down swaying in his stool. "Darling can't you just do it all?" he asked. You sighed. "There is a reason we are paired together," you began. You sighed eyeing each material you needed trying to plan out in your head how everything would work.

Jaemin acting as if he was uninterested looks over your shoulder watching you place everything in order. You could feel his eyes on you but it didn't feel important to deal with. Right now you just need to complete the assignment. You waved him off.

"Grab me a stir," you demanded. Jaemin lets out a huff. Leaving his seat heading in the direction you sent him. Annoyed at the fact he was spending his Thursday night here doing a project for a class he didn't care about versus finding some Hufflepuff to make a float to the clouds he took his time searching for the stir. Once he returned you sent him a look.

"What?" he asked confused. You placed a hand on your hip. By this point, you had already removed your robe. Wearing your white blouse, dark skirt and your red and gold tie. Your sleeves rolled up to your elbow and brows furrowed. You mixed potions having Jaemin occasionally hand you some.

You took the stir from his hands with a huff. You placed it into the cauldron stirring it around.

"Darling this better work," he said getting annoyed from how bored he was. "Or what?" you asked. "So I can leave," he pleaded.

"Then why'd you follow me?" you asked him. He bit his lip. "Darling you may not realize but I need this just as much as you do," he said truthfully. You glanced over at him. Continuing to stir the cauldron. Raising a brow.

"All of a sudden?" you asked. He sighed plopping down the stool beside you. Letting his back rest against the desk behind him.

"I just need to pass," he responded shutting his eyes for a brief moment.

"Okay. It's done," you said. Jaemin lifted his head leaning over the smoking touching his nostrils. He looked over at you seeing a different color of smoke, nothing like the green he had seen earlier, this was more of a pink.

"Go ahead," you ushered him. "Take a whiff," you said feeling proud of yourself for succeeding all on your own. "I hate to disappoint you but it won't work," he said. You furrowed your brows. "Why?" you asked him. What kind of game was he playing?

"It didn't work earlier," he said shifting in his seat. Your eyes scanned him tongue poking the inside of your mouth. You scoffed and Jaemin sat back. "What?" he asked stupidly.

"You're telling me you smelled nothing?" you asked. You pointed to his whole body. "Because it doesn't seem like it," you stated. Jaemin shifted his stool away from both you and the cauldron. He shook his head turning away.

"Darling you might be delusional," he spoke annoyed. You chuckled. "I'm not delusional, your disavowal," you threw back. Jaemin sneered turning away but didn't respond. You clapped your hands together small smack echoing in the classroom. "I knew it," you said. "Who is the girl? Or rather unlucky girl," you spat back.

Jaemin barely looked at you. Instead, he brushed you away. Tension began to rise in the room. You feel him shutting you out and the question you had asked. You cleared your throat smile fading from your lips. "I'm sorry," you said now fiddling with the tips of your fingers. "I didn't mean to pry," you apologized. He shook his head.

"Darling," he gushed. "Don't worry about it. Unless you want it to be you?" he said lifting his brow. You sneered turning away from him and his extremely punchable face. He leaned over smelling the cauldron. He had smelled nothing. He shrugged, "Nothing like I said," he turned away standing up from the stool and making his way back to the shelf with colorful viles. You sighed deciding to take a whiff of the Amortentia. You shut your eyes and inhaled but quickly opened them being you had also not smelled anything.

Your face turned confused. You stood up from your stool and grabbed onto your textbook flipping through the pages. "No this can't be," you flipped through the pages like a mad woman. Almost dropping the book you placed it on the desk. Catching Jaemin's attention. He placed the vile he was holding onto into his pocket and rushed to your side.

"What happened?" he asked. You, panicking, flipped to the page where your bookmark was. You scanned the writing with your fingers. You shook your head. "I don't understand," you said quickly. Your chest raised up and down. "I did everything right," you said. Jaemin unsure what to do just stood by your side. You looked over at him.

"I didn't smell anything," you said. "Which is impossible because I know I should have smelled something," you said nervously. Jaemin stared at you not knowing what to do. Your fingers tapped on the desk. Thinking about what you would have to do from here.

You huffed turning back to the textbook. This time not frantically flipping through the pages. Instead, you tried your best to read the lines written down. You shook your head. Rereading the same instructions paragraph. You whined tips of your fingers grazing your forehead. You were so close to passing and now you’d have to stay up all night trying to fix your failure.

You shut your eyes for a moment. Fighting back a growing yawn.

“I did everything right,” you said restlessly.

“Maybe you’re just stressed,” Jaemin suggested brows dancing. He nudged your shoulder. Your hand fell from your head landing on your lap. Jaemin sent you a smirk.

“Maybe I can help?” He offered a teasing smile on his lips. You scoffed pushing him away.

“Gross,” you replied. You did think about what he said.

“You might be right,” you said head shooting up. Jaemin smirked again raising his brows and testing you. You shook your head. “No. Not about that,” you spat. He shrugged eyes still glowing. You nodded tips of your fingers touching your chin.

“Then darling what am I right about?” He asked eyes watching you closely taking pleasure in being correct.

“I have been pretty stressed,” you sighed small frown on your lips. “Maybe that’s why it’s not working,” you concluded.

His eyes scanned you. He did that often. It felt like every time his eyes were on you he watched it. Observing every reaction, every sound, and every detail on your face. Sometimes it felt like he could see beyond the things you showed the world. It felt like he could read you in seconds from the amount of time he just spent eyeing you. Paying so close attention to you.

“What do you have to be stressed about?” He asked. Jaemin wasn’t one for conversations. He tended to ignore certain feelings or questions that didn’t benefit him in some way. But with you, he felt an interest to know more. The same girl who had aced every exam, project, and spell with ease since year one was sweating and panicking in her seat because she couldn’t get a certain love potion to work.

Something bigger had to be going on in your life. It couldn’t be Jeno though. You had seemed just fine without the athlete in your life. Surrounding yourself with friends you aesthetically matched with and even keeping company with your enemies. Which was another question that was tossed around in his mind.

Since when did you and Renjun get so close?

“I’m stressed about my grades,” you quietly admitted. The shame flooded your chest. You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you spoke. It felt like the reputation you had created for yourself was all one big lie. All because after a stupid party and drunk nights with your friends you decided to be different. Now you were playing catch up and stuck in projects with Na Jaemin.

He tilted his head. “But darling aren’t you supposed to be super smart?” He asked. You shook your head in response. Which was complete bullshit to him. Everyone knows you were the top student at Hogwarts. He made a lot of money off you. Betting off your test scores against Renjun’s. For one of your first exams, he bet you’d pass Renjun by just a few points which you did. That was also one of his first-ever fights with Jeno.

“Lately I’m not so sure,” you respond honestly. Jaemin didn’t know how to respond. Helping others through their troubles wasn’t something he was necessarily good at. When his friends were upset he’d tell them. “Let’s get a drink,” or “Let’s turn Haechan’s owl into a rat,”

But this was different. He knew it. He just didn’t know how to help you.

He wanted to though.

So he tried.

Which for Jaemin was unheard of.

“Why do you say?” He asked leading in with a much gentler tone. He sank beside your sulking frame. You wanted to question his sudden interest but figured he of all people couldn’t judge you. Jaemin was not only a giant warning sign for bad behavior but also the poster child for trouble.

“I’ve been failing everything,” you began. You looked over at him laughing a little. Jaemin was now even more confused about. You were stressed a few minutes ago from a failed attempt at a love potion and now you’re giggling.

“I’m sorry,” you said covering your mouth. “I just can’t believe I’m sitting here telling you my problems,” you confessed. Jaemin felt the tension fall a little between you two. You did as well. Jaemin chuckled alongside you. Assuming that’s what you needed to feel better.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he started but you stopped him waving your hand.

“It’s okay. I know you won’t judge me,” you smiled. It was true. Jaemin was an ass but he wasn’t cruel. He didn’t judge others simply because he didn’t care too much for himself. He never pictured a life after Hogwarts. Just assumed he’d return home, take over his father’s business, and probably get married.

But he’d never admit deep down seeing you succeed gave him hope for himself.

“Judgment-free zone,” he joked putting his hands up. You paused watching him for a moment. Jaemin had a smile that could break a million hearts. A smile you never truly knew how much you admired. He raised a brow catching you in your moment of admiration. You snapped and returned your focus to your story.

You cleared your throat. Jaemin decided not to tease this time. But he’d bring it up again later.

“Ever since I stopped being friends with Jeno I kind of just changed,” you began. Jaemin’s expression becomes more focused. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. “I realized when I was with Jeno I did a lot of things for him and not myself,” you said. You could feel the pushed emotions rising back up. The feelings you kept repressed for a while now boiling to the top. You tried to conceal them but for certain parts, you just couldn’t help it. Jaemin could tell the topic was still touchy but he didn’t stop you. He too, like others, was curious as to why you’d stop being friends with the captain.

“I followed him around, picked him up when he fell, I went to every quidditch match and celebrated every win with him,” your voice shuddered towards the end of your sentence. You let out a tired sigh.

“And he did nothing for me,” you felt the weight of Jeno slightly lift from your chest. You had never talked about what happened before. Not even with Yeji. Somehow talking with Jaemin felt easier.

“He never came to any of my presentations for my Hippogriff Club. He constantly ditched me for his other friends. It just seemed like me and him were in two different worlds,” you could feel more of the weight you carried from Jeno's lift. But you decided that was where you wished to leave off. You still had a project to finish.

You readjusted yourself. Jaemin leaving his thoughts and mimicking you without question. He eyed you carefully seeing you return to the textbook.

“Let’s try and finish this. Together,” you said half smile on your lips. All he could do was nod. No funny comment or remark is to be made. He wanted to help you. Work with you to finish the project.

“What can I do?” He asked. You smiled liking this new side of Jaemin. “You can grab this,” you showed him the book. He nodded taking a mental photo of the vile drawn on the pape. When he returned with it you poured it inside the cauldron. You stirred the cauldron. Once you finished you set the stir aside.

“You can go first,” you said. Jaemin agreed. He wouldn’t mind smelling your scent for the third time today.

He leaned over sniffing the aura that left the pot. He hummed at the scent briefly closing his eyes. He could get lost in the glorious scent. Then he remembered you were waiting behind him. You stood there fidgeting.

“Well?” You asked nervously. You hoped it worked this time.

“I can smell something,” he said soft smile on his lips.

You clapped quietly. His smile widened seeing your joy. You walked over to the cauldron excitedly not even acknowledging the fact Jaemin had smelled something. Instead, you leaned over trying yourself. You hummed at the scent.

“What do you smell?” He asked.

You felt your heart fill with warmth. “Flowers,” you said. “And honey,” you followed. “My mom’s perfume,” you finished. Jaemin stared fondly at you. He could feel his chest fill with warmth. He couldn’t understand how anyone, especially Jeno, could ever lose you. He questioned what fool would hurt you.

His thoughts were the same reasons why he couldn’t tell you what you smelled. Even after you had asked him.

“Jaemin what did you smell?” You asked innocently.

He couldn’t tell you the answer. He was the biggest fool in the entire school. So instead he turned his smile. “Darling, I bet you’d really wanna know,” he said time shifting to the Jaemin you knew all too well. You frowned turning away in annoyance. You should have known it was too good to be true. Jaemin walked over to grab his stuff.

“If we’re finished here. Can I go?” He asked but he wasn’t asking. He was going to leave anyway even if you said no. But you waved your hand wanting to get rid of him. “Whatever,” you muttered not sparing him a glance. You only turned to look at the door when it closed shut.

When Jaemin stepped outside the classroom he stopped. His head fell as he thought about you standing in that classroom right now feeling disappointed. He just couldn’t be that guy for you. It made him feel guilty for letting you tell him your problems and then leaving.

This must be how all those girls felt after being with him.

Like shit.

You deserved someone who could give you everything you wanted. Make your dreams come true and provide you with a happy life. He couldn’t be that man for you.

You remained in the classroom angrily cleaning up the mess you had made. Cursing Jaemin out in your head and shoving the potions textbook in your bag. Feeling exhausted from the day you checked the time. Thirty minutes past one o’clock in the morning. Almost every student at Hogwarts was asleep right now. Accept you.

You sighed placing the last vile away. You weren’t mad anymore. You expected this behavior from Jaemin. He probably just wanted something to tease you about later on. Just manipulating you like he did to every girl in this school. There wasn’t anything you could do about it but forget.

No matter how real it felt. With Jaemin you’d never be able to tell.

That was until the door opened. The door closing catches your attention. You emerged from behind the shelf slowly. You pulled your wand out quietly whispering a “Lumos” and checking the path. You saw nothing assuming whatever came in left. Probably some students come and get nervous when they see your bag. Assuming a teacher was here.

But when you stepped back your back hit someone’s front. You turned around quickly eyes meeting with Jaemin’s.

“What are you doing here?” You asked both surprised and pissed. Still holding the wand near his face. He covered his eyes with his hand from the bright light. You lowered it a little. Jaemin blinked a few. You lowered your head waiting for his response.

“Darling, I’m sorry I left,” he stated lips falling heavy. You scoffed turning to leave but Jaemin followed stopping you. You jerked back from him. He put his hands up. “Wait,” he breathed out desperately. This was his final chance.

"Darling," he called. The degrading pet name finally got to me. Just pushing you off your limit.

"Stop fucking calling me that! Do you know how much I despise that name," you argued back gritting your teeth. You could feel years of torment boil to the surface.

“I’m sorry,” he said head falling. He only lifted his head again when he realized he needed to make things right. Looking deeply into your eyes searching for any ounce of forgiveness. You shook your head turning to leave. You began making your way to the door when his voice called.

“You asked me what I smelled,” he asserted. You stopped but didn’t turn to him. Instead, your hand gripped the door handle. Jaemin felt the panic rush through his body at the very thought of you leaving without hearing him.

“I could smell flowers,” he said. You shut your eyes for a moment leg bouncing. Your robe falls from in between your arm and your hip. You tried to fix it. Using it to ignore him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you said back wishing he’d just go away.

“I need to say this to you. Even if you do not listen,” he confessed desperation and pain in his tone. He gently stepped forward so he wouldn’t scare you off. You wanted to ignore him so badly. But your body betrayed you. Your hand couldn’t push the door open. Your legs didn’t want to move.

“I could smell honey too,” he said with each word taking a step further. He stopped in the middle of the classroom allowing some distance between you two. He’d let you be the one to close it if you wished to. You bit your lip trying your best not to look at him but your eyes felt tortured the more you refused to give in to his confessions.

“I could smell dirty textbooks and a dusty wand,” he went on. Feeling a little more hopeful when your finger slipped from the handle and to your side. You readjusted the robe from falling only turning your head to see the robe. Your eyes still doing their best to avoid his.

“I could smell mint toothpaste and those muffins you always take for breakfast because you’re rushing to get to class on time every morning,” he said trying to fit every detail into words. He was even shocked by how much he paid attention to everything about you. But he brushed it off with a small chuckle.

“Y/n every time I leaned over and smelled the “Amortentia” I could only smell you,” he confessed the words effortlessly slipping past his tongue but his heart thumping through his chest.

The year one student in you felt excited. Happy the boy she crushed on like her back. But the year seven you were mad. You marched over to him but not to confess your love. Your eyes met his but with ease, since they were filled with anger and frustration. Your hands hit your side robe falling to the ground.

“So what is it Jaemin? You hate me or love me?” You rambled. The questions fall from your lips. Your hands smacked your side. You shook from both confusion and lack of understanding.

“All this time you teased me and treated me like shit because your in love with me?” You asked feeling lost. It upset you even more when you thought about every interaction shared between you two over the last seven years. You pushed his chest. Stepping closer to him. He stepped back taken by your sudden change in attitude. He’d never seen you react to anything like this before.

“You’ve pushed my buttons and hit every nerve because you care for me so deeply?” You questioned him. Poking his chest watching as he stepped back. Back hitting an empty desk. The desk slid a little creating a scratch in the wooden floor. You both ignored it.

“Darling you are the reason I breathe” is all he could say. You wanted to cringe at the pet name again but after his confessions and all your questions, you assumed it meant the opposite of what you thought. Your tongue poked the inside of your mouth. You wanted to hate him. You shook your head. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to scream at him for being so shitty to you and making every day of your life difficult when deep down he didn’t even want to. Masking his feelings for you by being the biggest shit in your life.

You wanted to kill him.

But instead, you kissed him. You grabbed him tightly by the collar of his robe pulled him forward and met his lips with your own. Your hands reached behind his head. Fingers grazing past his dark locks and gripping on his strains. His hands cupped the sides of your face. Gently holding onto your neck.

Only for the kiss to be broken by Jaemin.

Both of you panting staring into each other's eyes. The only sounds heard in the potions classroom were the unsteadiness of your breaths. Jaemin licked his lips. You kept your hold on him. Holding the back of his neck. Your lips are both still inches apart. His eyes flicked from yours, then to your lips.

“Darling, are you sure you want to do this?” He asked. Your hands reached up dancing through the hair that rested on the back of his neck. You nodded eyes moving to his lips. Watering at the sight of his lips, glistening and red.

“I’m sure,” you said. Jaemin smiled quickly pulling you into a kiss. Only this time with more passion. His hands slid from your neck and down to your waist holding you against his large frame. You could feel the bulk of his body through his robe. Wanting more of him you pulled the robe down his shoulders letting it hit the ground. Your back arched in his hold hands gliding from your waist to your ass. Squeezing it before he tapped onto your thigh.

You jumped wrapping your legs around him. He spun you around and placed you on the desk. He broke the kiss quickly undoing his green and black tie. You motioned him undoing your golden and red and sending it flying across the dark room. Noting how it began to become difficult to see as the night appeared he pulled his wand out.

“Lumos” he hushed placing the wand down. It lit up almost the entire room. Illuminating the features on your face. Jaemin stared at you for a moment. Taking in your sight. You were still fully clothed and he was already twitching in his slacks. You’d be the death of him he thought watching as you spread your legs apart. Black tights covered your skin. Giving only an illusion as to what Jaemin could have if he just went for it and stopped acting like a pussy.

This time he did.

He wrapped his arm around you yanking you forward and bringing you to the edge of the desk. He spread your legs out further standing in between them. Bringing his lips to yours he placed a kiss on your lips. His hand is busy rubbing circles on your clothed clit. Both of you feeling frustrated by the lack of contact he pulled away from your lips. Taking both his hands he ripped the tights starting at where clit was and destroying them to your ankle.

You gasped seeing the flimsy fabric get tossed away and discarded like your tie. Jaemin wasted no time eyeing in and settling to his knees. He lifted your pleased skirt pulling your panties down. You lifted your ass making it easy. He took them stuffing the blue panties in his pocket. He’d keep those for later.

Your hand reached up to his hair. He smirked up at you refusing to move his head. Instead, he laid his head on your inner right thigh. Big eyes looking up into yours. His finger danced on your plushie skin.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” he teased. Eyes dark and smile bright. No matter what he still enjoyed making you squirm. You shifted taking his chin under your finger. He let you control his head this time seeing you bring it closer to your pussy. He tried his best to keep his eyes trained on yours but he couldn’t. Stealing a glance that went straight to his cock. Seeing your pussy on full display wet and hole clenching everyone the breeze past her. He licked his lips.

“I want you to eat me,” you said eyes lowering at him.

He smirked. “I’ll do anything you ask me,” he said diving it. This time you believed him. He spread your folds apart with his finger. Index finger pressing down on your clit. You moan mouth falling open as you watched in awe. Jaemin circling your clit slowly. Amorously staring up into your heavy eyes.

"I like the sounds you make when I touch you," he spoke softly dark undertones ending each word. His words hissed making you fall further in his trance. His eyebrow cocked upwards and his bottom lip caught between his teeth watching a gush of your wetness drip out of your tight hole and pool onto the wooden desk. His cock twitched and he bit back a powerful moan.

"I'm curious to hear you while you rest in my mouth, darling," he said removing his finger and engulfing your clit between his lips. You moaned loudly no longer caring about getting caught. Jaemin like a hungry man spread your thighs apart and used his fingers to spread your folds giving him full access to your clit. Sucking hard and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves.

Your hands reached down grabbing onto his hair. The harder he sucker the tighter you grabbed onto him. Using his hair to control his head. Bringing him as close as he could get to you. He could suffocate in your pussy at this point and die happily. He flexed his hips upwards into the nothing at the very thought of him passing between your legs.

A deep, earthy groan erupted from his chest sending shocks to your clit. The buzzing flows throughout your entire body. Nipples perked up from the sounds Jaemin made below you. He took the hand that held you down in place and brought it to your abandoned hole. He outlined your entrance with his cold finger.

"Please Jaemin," you cried. He chuckled pulling his mouth from your pussy causing you to whine. "You taste so good, baby. You want me to give you more?" he asked, a teasing smirk on his lips. You looked down at him to send him a glare but instead, the moan got stuck in your throat.

His eyes were big looking up into yours. Dark locks disheveled pointing in every direction from your hands. His lips and chin glistened underneath the light from your juice. Wearing a smile on his lips proudly. Like he finally earned it.

He wanted to watch your face perfectly. Seeing your features tense and brows furrow. His finger slowly enters you. His knees were sore, screaming in pain but the look on your face from just his fingers alone was enough to make it worth it. Your mouth fell open at his first thrust and he couldn't help but match the groan that left your lips with his own. He picked up his pace adding a second finger inside your hole.

You tried to close your legs but Jaemin was having none of that. He forced them back open thrusting his fingers hard and fast inside you. Your wetness slipped out from his speed. Hitting his shirt and mouth from how close he was. Curling them upwards searching for your spot inside you. You moaned loudly head falling back. You had tried to keep contact with him but he hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. He smirked leaning forward again mouth engulfing your clit. He placed his hand on top of your stomach pushing you down and rutting his hips into the air.

"Jaemin I'm so close," you screamed. His head nodded up and down licking your clit fast. Matching the speed of his fingers that curled so deep inside you.

"Come on darling, come in my mouth. Let me taste all of you," he coaxed. You couldn't hold it anymore releasing it into his mouth. So much of you spilling out it spilled onto his shirt. Jaemin didn't care, he licked around his mouth collecting whatever was left. He zoned back in on your pussy. Going to dive it again but your finger pressed against his forward. He huffed in defeat.

"I'm sensitive," you responded.

You picked yourself up. Unable to wipe the smile off your lips. You leaned up kissing him. But unlike the last, he kissed you softly. Kissing you like he'd lose you if he didn't savor it. You both pulled away. Jaemin stared into your eyes. He searched for any regret in your eyes and when he found none he finally relaxed. You were in a completely different world.

You went for the belt that loped around his slacks trying to undo it but he stopped you. He gripped onto your hands, softly. He sighed head facing down. He let them slip for a moment but seeing the confused look on your face he held onto them again.

"Jaemin?" you questioned but he stopped you.

He sighed. "Y/n I want to, I do. But not here," he said sincerely. You were still lost but the sudden rejection. But didn't fight him. It felt different with him this time. He didn't feel the same as earlier when he left. This time it felt, right.

"But Jaemin I want to," you tried to change the mood but you were rejected again. He shook his head a small smile forming on his lips. He looked down at your hands in his. Fingers swiping over your knuckles. He picked up your hand placing a kiss on them. He picked up his wand doing a quick spell to clean you up. He helped you off the table. He readjusted himself and you got dressed.

Jaemin glanced over at you. He felt content with the night. He didn't mind just pleasing you. He knew he'd have his time with you eventually. Where he could love you and give you everything he had to offer you. When he could take his time with you. The potions classroom on a random Friday night was the place he imagined for the two of you.

He was willing to wait, even if you wanted to. He wanted to treat you with love.

You weren't some Hufflepuff girl he'd fuck in the library and forget about. You were you, the girl he loved.

It didn't click in your head that's what he was doing until he walked you to your dorm. He didn't even kiss you goodnight. Unless you count the gentle kiss he placed on your cheek. His hand falls from the small of your waist.

"Goodnight Y/n, my darling," he said walking away with the brown bag you finally let him hold onto.

"Goodnight Jaemin," you responded watching him walk away. You couldn't help the smile on your face. When you entered the living quarters the smile quickly faded when you were greeted with an angry Jeno.

"I think it's time we talked about this," he said eyes zeroing in on yours. You felt your heart skip a beat. Had he been waiting for you the whole time? Feeling exhausted and not wanting to deal with you you turned to leave up the stairs. But Jeno called out to you. This time, less threatening.

"Please," he begged. You sighed letting your hand fall from the railing and footstep off the first step. You turned to him feeling your happiness burst.

"What do you want to talk about?" you asked placing a hand on your hip.

"Everything," he released the word like he was inhaling it for so long it hurt.

To Be Continued...

Guys, I know this one took so long. I was busy with work and school but I'm back and I can't wait to write the next part.

Tags: @kodasity @girlwholoveslpreppyattire

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say-al0e · 10 months

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You Proof

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Bob never imagined the Hard Deck would play such an important part in his life. But after meeting the love of his life there, he can’t imagine his life without it. | Ft. “Do I make you nervous?” Requested by Anon.

Warnings: Drinking, allusion to sex, that’s about it.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k (a short one? Who am I?)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Robert Floyd never imagined the Hard Deck would become such a large part of his life.

Bars, in general, had never been his scene. He wasn’t much of a drinker, really only indulged on special occasions - and rarely had more than a drink or two - and had never been especially fond of large crowds. Besides, before his return to Top Gun, he’d never really had a group of friends to tag along with and long ago decided that sitting at a bar alone was worse for his reputation than simply not going.

During his initial stint at Top Gun, Bob heard about the Hard Deck. It was almost impossible not to know the place by name as it seemed to be where everyone spent their weekends, a place to unwind and potentially meet someone. Still, as omnipresent as it seemed to be in the lives of his classmates, it was a place Bob never ventured himself.

The place always seemed a little too daunting - too loud, too busy, too full of officers he’d rather not spend time with outside of work. Way back when, he just couldn’t understand the appeal.

Now, however, he found himself seated on a barstool near the pool table at least once a week.

It seemed that now, more often than not, he settled in at the beginning of the night after a text from Phoenix or Rooster beckoned him. As they drank their beers, he nursed a Coke and laughed at the latest petty argument someone seemed to be having with Hangman.

Everyone took turns around the pool table or attempting to run through every trick shot Hangman seemed capable of with darts and enjoyed a few moments of downtime in an otherwise hectic life. And each night, he sat with his friends - a group he’d never expected to belong to but now couldn’t imagine a life without - and enjoyed being a part of something larger than himself.

The friends he’d made were enough to bring him back to the Hard Deck time and time again. They were enough to have him settled on a barstool for hours as they all talked and laughed and commiserated. They were enough to make him happy, content and relaxed for the first time in a long while, and Bob really couldn’t have asked for much more.

Then, he met you.

Somewhere amongst the chaos and the khaki, amidst the beer and pool and laughter, you were thrown into his life. He’d never seen you before - he felt like Hangman even thinking it, but he was so captivated that he knew he would’ve remembered your face - and though you stood out, dressed in a soft blue sundress in a sea of uniforms, he he liked to believe he would’ve noticed you regardless.

A rowdy Friday night crowd sent you stumbling into him, quite literally, and he almost hadn’t heard your immediate apology over the beating of his own heart. If he’d thought you were pretty from afar, up close, he was certain you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

It was a miracle he’d managed to string together a coherent sentence, let alone participate in an entire conversation with you, but he’d somehow managed. He not only managed to captivate your attention long enough to learn your name, he left the Hard Deck that night with your number programmed into his phone and a promise of another meeting.

Since then, Bob rarely ventured to the Hard Deck alone.

Instead of sitting on a barstool alone, a wallflower - by choice now, no longer excluded from the conversation - he had you right by his side. You joined his laughter as Phoenix managed to outwit Hangman once more. You happily listened as Fanboy, well, fanboyed over the latest super hero film he’d seen and Bob asked questions because he knew what it was like to have no one take an interest. You joined in on conversations and never once looked put out by the amount of time you spent in a Navy bar, though he sometimes imagined you’d rather be anywhere else.

Bob spent a significant amount of time at the Hard Deck but now, so did you.

When you told him that you were planning a girls’ night with Phoenix, he figured the pair of you would venture to a nicer bar in the city. There was no shortage of fun places, ones where you weren’t likely to run into someone who only knew you as Bob’s girlfriend, but he’d been mistaken.

The Hard Deck was your top choice and he understood why.

Like Bob, you weren’t one to overindulge. Though you tended to have a drink when you visited the Hard Deck - something light he would occasionally steal a sip of - it was rarely more than one or two. However, it had been a long week for both you and Phoenix so he had an inkling the self-imposed limit would be out the door sooner rather than later.

Any other bar, you would’ve been constantly looking over your shoulder, a little too worried to truly let go. The Hard Deck felt safer - though he knew you would still remain vigilant, as would Phoenix - and gave you both a chance to enjoy yourselves a little more. The Hard Deck was your environment now, a place you felt comfortable, and he understood the need for that space as he encouraged the guys to opt for another venue.

At the beginning of the night, he promised to pick you up. No matter your argument - “I don’t want you to miss out on guys’ night! I can just get an Uber.” - he insisted, always eager to spend whatever time with you he could. You weren’t guaranteed anything and he wanted to be there, in any way he could.

And true to his word, when you called, Bob answered.

The guys were all still gathered at Maverick’s - Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, all still sipping beer and listening intently to the captain’s greatest stories, and to a few embarrassing stories about Rooster - but he’d bid them all goodnight and headed straight for you.

Bob figured he could’ve found his way through the chaos in the dark as he wandered through the Saturday night crowd. They spilled out into the parking lot, a mix of locals and officers he’d grown almost fond of, but it was familiar. He knew the place like the back of his hand and had no problem weaving through tipsy crowds in search of your usual table.

Nestled near the pool tables, sat on the barstool he usually occupied, you and Natasha were locked in what seemed to be an intense conversation. The closer he drew, the clearer your words became.

“No,” you insisted, huffing as you swirled your straw in the remnants of your drink. “I think Rooster would win in a physical fight because he’s got a lot of repressed rage. Hangman would be fine for a bit but I think he’d go down quick.”

Bob paused just shy of your table, just out of sight, and did nothing to hide his amusement as he watched Natasha shake her head. “Rooster’s not a fighter,” she refuted, grip on her drink loose as she lifted it halfway to her mouth before thinking better of the action. “He’d start to throw a punch and then realize what he’d done. No one would win.”

“D’you really think Rooster would pass up the opportunity to hit him? I know you’re all friends now but I think he’d still take a swing.”

While Bob no longer dreaded the sight of Hangman entering a room - they really had become friends, brothers, even - there were still moments he would easily admit he fantasized about throwing something heavy in his direction. He knew he wasn’t alone, if Natasha’s rolled eyes and nod of acknowledgement was anything to go by, and shook his head as you grinned triumphantly.

Natasha drained the rest of her drink in one sip, easily downing the rest of a brightly colored drink Bob imagined would leave her with a hangover worthy of complaint the following day, before she fixed you with a grin. “What about Bob?”

“What about Bob?”

It didn’t take the keenest eye or the sharpest ear to notice the way you softened at her mention of him, the way you went just a little lovesick and smiled with just the utterance of his name, and Bob felt his heart beat double in his chest. While your relationship had long since evolved past the honeymoon stage, the softness - the care, the adoration - was still ever-present and he’d started to hope it would never fade.

The friends you shared, however, merely rolled their eyes. “Who’d win in a fight, Bob or Hangman?”

“Bob’s not a fighter,” you declared, immediately and without sparing a moment to think. “He’s a sweetheart.”

“You’re telling me Bob would pass up the opportunity to fight Hangman?” Natasha repeated your earlier argument, grinning when you rolled your eyes, and Bob nearly laughed as you slid your drink to the center of the table and rested your chin in your hand.

“No. I think if Hangman pissed him off enough and Robbie had a bad enough day, he’d go for it. But it’s not in his nature.” You nodded, satisfied with your own answer, before you hummed. A thoughtful frown scrunched your brows and Bob lifted a hand to hide his smile as you amended, “He’s stronger than he looks, though. He could win, if he wanted.”

The declaration was confident, certain, and Bob felt a small glimmer of something - pride, maybe - burn bright in his chest. There were moments that he doubted himself, moments he wondered what he’d done to deserve you, but you were consistently his biggest fan. There was never a moment you allowed him to doubt for long, always eager to build him up, and he appreciated the ego boost more than you knew.

“Not that I want to know,” Natasha began, “but is he always sweet?”

Natasha’s question saw Bob moving once more, hurrying through the crowd to approach your table. While you were just as happy to keep your relationship relatively quiet as he was, the difference between sobriety and a few drinks - the difference between a conversation with everyone and a conversation with just Natasha - meant that you would happily spill everything.

“Not always,” you answered with a mischievous grin. “There was this one time, right after he got back from that last deployment -“

Before you could continue, words that would certainly change the way Natasha looked at him on the tip of your tongue, Bob approached the table. “Hi, sweetheart.” It was a little too loud, a little too abrupt, and he was certain you could both see the scarlet flush creeping up his neck but neither of you mentioned it.

Natasha smirked at the sight of him so clearly flustered - at both the memory and the potential revelation - while you brightened to an almost blinding grin at the sight of him.

“Robbie,” you cheered, reaching out to pull him close. “I missed you!”

Less than five hours had passed since you last saw one another - he’d dropped you off before heading to Maverick’s - but he had no desire to remind you of that. Instead, he nodded and looped his arm around your shoulders to keep you both steady as yours fell to his waist. “Missed you, too,” he assured you, grinning sheepishly as he met Natasha’s gaze. “Hi, Nat.”

“Hiya, Robbie.” He rolled his eyes at her playful taunt, used to the teasing nickname every time you were around - or even mentioned. “Your girlfriend was just telling me how you’re not always a total sweetheart,” she continued, grinning when he winced. “You interrupted what was bound to be a fantastic story.”

“Mm, it is!” Your eager nod made him laugh as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Before he could encourage a change in topic, however, you urged, “Have a drink with us so I can finish!”

“Who’s gonna get us home, then?” The question was soft, fond, and he resisted the urge to lean in and press a soft kiss to your forehead as you frowned.

“Uber.” You spoke as if that was the most obvious answer - he almost expected a ‘duh’ tacked on at the end, just for effect - but you simply fixed him with a frown.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” he soothed, fighting the urge to coo as you deflated. As you huffed, disappointed in his refusal, he turned to Natasha. “Want us to take you home, Nat?”

“Nah, my ride’s here.” Bob turned just in time to catch sight of Natasha’s girlfriend, a woman he’d come to know well as the four of you went out together often, throw her hand up in a quick wave. “G’night, Robbie,” she cooed, grinning as she pinched his cheek and earned herself a fond roll of his eyes. “G’night, babe!” She stood from the table and caught you in a quick hug, squeezing just a little tighter than normal, before heading to meet her girlfriend.

Bob shook his head, entirely amused, before turning his full attention to you. His eyes met yours, already trained on his face, and he couldn’t help but smile as he realized what you wanted. Though PDA wasn’t much - or often - he had no qualms about leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

It was late enough that no one paid either of you any mind, everyone either too far gone to notice anyone outside of their group or on the way out themselves, and you grinned happily when he pulled away. “Take me home, please,” you requested, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes.

With a smile of his own, Bob helped you from your stool - steadied your on your feet as you nearly stumbled with your first step - and held his laughter as you smiled sheepishly. “C’mon,” he encouraged, careful to keep an arm around you as he guided you toward the bar, “let’s settle up so we can get home.”

As you stood, waiting for a bartender to close out your tab, Bob’s fingers tapped against your side. As he did so, you felt compelled to ask, “Do I make you nervous, Robbie?”

Bright eyes, just a touch glassy and beginning to grow heavy-lidded, met his as he glanced at you. “Not anymore, sweetheart.” It was honest, as he always tried to be with you, and earned him a soft coo as you tipped your head. But he couldn’t help wondering, “Why d’you ask?”

“But I did?” When he nodded, barely able to contain soft laughter, you frowned. “Nat said I did. Why? I’m not scary,” you insisted,

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, smile softening as he reclaimed your card and began guiding you toward the door. “But you were at first.” As you stepped out of the Hard Deck and into the cool night air, Bob spared you a glance and nearly melted at the sight of you waiting patiently for him to continue. “I thought you were gorgeous,” he complimented, “completely out of my league. I figured you would go for someone like Rooster or Hangman. But then you kept talking to me and I had no idea why but I’m glad you did.”

“You know what’s funny?”

Bob hummed, curious, as he helped you into the front seat. “What’s that?” You waited, patient and quiet, for him to round the car and settle into the driver’s seat before you smiled at him.

“You made me nervous, too.”

That was enough to make him pause, hand on the gearshift, as he frowned. The entire time you’d spent getting to know one another, you’d never seemed even remotely nervous. Even as he fumbled his words and felt as if his entire body would remain permanently flushed in your presence, you looked completely at ease. “I did?”

“Mm.” It was matter of fact, a certain nod before leaning your head against the window and sighing at the cool glass against your heated skin. “I thought you were pretty, too,” you confessed, smile a little shy as Bob’s gaze softened. “And you didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk to me. Know now it’s cause you were shy but I was nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”

“I liked you right away.” Bob felt his entire body soften as you reached for his hand, fingers intertwining with his, and he took the opportunity to lift your hands and press a soft kiss to the back of yours as he stopped at a light. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me,” he admitted, voice quiet in the silence of the car, “but you did.”

“I always will. You’re kinda perfect, Robbie.”

Bob knew that he wasn’t perfect - he wasn’t even close - but with you smiling at him like that, eyes bright and so sincere, he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be. Regardless of the future you embarked upon, whatever awaited you both down the line, Bob was determined to spend the rest of his life making you happy, however he could.

And as he drove you home, your hand tangled in his even as you began to nod off, he wondered if Penny had ever hosted a wedding reception - or, at the very least, an engagement party - at the Hard Deck. While Bob never imagined the Hard Deck becoming such a massive part of his life, he now found himself thankful for every moment he’d been able to spend there as it all lead him straight to you.

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Slowly but surely chipping away at writer’s block. Hangman is likely next. I need to write something that’s not smut and not sad for him. Anyway, I’m knocking out requests so fingers crossed I stay on a roll. Perk of my life falling apart? My writing returns!

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @callsignharper, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @rh3tt, @dakotakazansky, @silversprings-mp3

#robert 'bob' floyd x reader #bob x reader #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #bob x y/n #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick imagine #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd imagine #v's fics

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felassan · 1 year

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David Gaider on Twitter: "Going through my old DAI files and came across the original plan for a playable post-credits Epilogue... which, due to time constraints, eventually got down-scaled to the post-credits cutscene you saw on release. A lot of the meat here was, I believe, resurrected for Trespasser." [source] "At the time, I was pushing hard for an actual denouement - as opposed to always ending the story so abruptly after the climax. Considering how few players ever get that far, I suppose I can see the argument that it's not exactly a great place to focus resources. I did like where the cutscene ended up, mind you. A nice, Marvel-esque stinger that hinted at story to come. Took the sting out of having yet another story plan go awry... which is simply par for the course for game dev. Writing can always imagine more than we can produce. ;) And in case anyone wonders: no actual work was done on that playable section prior to the cut. You can imagine it being this fully-fleshed out, glorious thing, if you like... but it could just as easily have been half-baked and terrible. The team was fully stretched as it was." [source, two, three]

Some further info from follow-up tweets -

User: "It's a bummer, though I understand the logic. A proper end to cap off the experience can make or break your enjoyment of the full game though, imo" DG: "That was indeed my argument. There's a point where we have to draw the line and finish the story, however, and I'm afraid the original plan was... mmm a mite too big. This was far from the only cut."

User: "WAIT. Am I reading this right… Solas drains Flemeth and then COMMANDS the Well of Sorrows drinker to kill Flemeth?" DG: "I think it was Flemeth who commanded it. I'd have to look through the whole document. It's complicated. Part of why it was eventually cut, probably."

User: "Hold on. We were to kill Flemeth on Flemeth’s command to, possibly, prevent Solas from taking everything? Was passing whatever energy she did to the Eluvian her way of preparing for survival ?" DG: "I don't think it was going to be explained any more than it was in the cutscene you got, tbh."

User: "My WoS Lavellan is SCREAMING rn god please help her in the next game" DG: "Keep in mind that none of this *actually* happened. ;)"

User: "Interesting to see this was envisioned as having adversarial encounters between Solas & Flemeth with the well-drinker being ping-pawned between them. I noticed the Inquisitor lurking off-camera in that cutscene and wondered if they were originally meant to be part of it." DG: "Heh. I'm pretty sure the Inquisitor being placed there in the actual cutscene's level was because a player had to be present *somewhere*. Might be wrong, though." John Epler: "the way the cinematics worked, if you had them firing too far from the player character the engine would try to optimize and cutscenes would start jittering" DG: "Yeah, I thought it was something like that! Thanks, John."

User: "Does this have any link to the fact that there are dialogue audios of Morrigan reacting to solas “absorbing” Mythal in the game files?" DG: "Possibly? I finished writing the epilogue, so it's possible some of it got recorded prior to the cut."

User: "So Morrigan would've finally gotten to kill Flemeth herself, and nobody had to turn into a dragon this time? Also, this clears up what even happened to Flemeth at the end. She's definitely dead. Presumably, the spirit or essence of Mythal and possibly Urthemiel are inside Solas?" User 2: "does it? it can be theorized that flemeth commands the inquisitor/morrigan to kill her so solas wouldn't be able to take all her essence. regardless, in the ending we did get it's not entirely clear what happened. but i doubt she's truly gone. she cheated death before." DG: "And remember that what this stuff points at never actually happened. Whatever becomes of Flemeth in the future is up to the current writing team, and is based only on the cutscene you saw."

Summerfall Studios: "Our creative director davidgaider shares some insight into how Dragon Age: Inquisition's epilogue evolved over production" DG: "You want "evolved over production"? *cracks knuckles* Lemme tell you how we cut Corypheus attacking Skyhold. Now *that's* evolution."

#dragon age #bioware #solas #video games #long post #longpost #morrigan #queen of my heart #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #tags for the mention of what happens in the future

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ellieswifie · 9 months

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︿︿ ੈ[ 📺 ] ༉‧₊˚✧ meet me in the hallway | ellie williams

♪ meet me in the hallway — harry styles

summary: after a messy breakup with ellie williams, you’ve tried your best to distance yourself from her and her drama. but running into each other at a college party doesn’t seem to turn in your favor…

warnings: ex-gf!ellie x fem!reader, 18+ mdni, drinking, party party, swearing, smoking, heartbreak, angst, smooching, not really proof read lol, and that’s it, i think

authors note: one of my top favorite harry styles songs and will most likely always be. the lyrics are an absolute masterpiece and everything about this track makes me go feral. so why not make a gut-wrenching story? lol. also the start is kinda rocking, but it gets better. ˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊• GOING TO THE PARTY WAS DINA’S IDEA. she said going to this party would embrace your zen. that going to this college party would bring a state of calm, and peace after your horrid breakup.

but even after her wise yoda words, you still hadn’t pieced out exactly what your best friend met. in your mind going to a wacky college party would just build another drunk night out for you and your friends, more school drama to deal with, and an ass hangover to deal with in the morning.

but dina insisted.

and she was your best friend. if she thought going to the party was the best idea in her mind, it was a somewhat good idea in yours. even if you had a pit feeling that you’d kill yourself for the headache in the morning.

but here you are, standing across the room from your ex-lover. embracing your zen

your mind could only think about how great ellie looked. her hair pulled back into her signature bun she does, her flannel rolled up towards her elbows, full tat on display for the crowd around her. a beered bottle sways in her hand as she looks at the group talking around her.

you almost felt like you hadn’t had any glow up considering how amazing your ex girlfriend looked in front of you. you simply just put on some lazy baggie jeans and a sleeve less top that barley fits.

she hadn’t noticed you yet. but you watched her from across the crowded party room from where you were standing beside dina and her boyfriend.

dina was way too busy eye fucking jessie to notice you only watching ellie. you watched as her eyebrows furrowed together when her friend was mentioning something to her. you watched as she messed with the hair tie on her wrist.

it was as if you were analyzing every little detail about her as you just stood there.

dina caught your eye carefully, pulling you away from the view of ellie, and into a room where a group of students was taking shots.

“you need to get over her, babe.” dina said, raising a shot glass for the both of you, but you just simply shake your head. more so to her comment, but dina nods and places the extra glass back on the table.

“i am over ellie.” you mutter, watching dina quickly take the shot. she sticks her tongue out for a moment, nearly gagging at the taste. “yeah that was fucking disgusting.” her noise scrunched together when she said that.

a small laugh leaves your lips when she leans over, picking up another one. she quickly drains that glass too, shaking her body off at the horrible taste.

you yourself weren’t much of a drinker, but when you did drink, you drank. like dina. once she starts, she doesn’t seem to stop.

the loud party song slowly faded out of tune, as the next song began to play. dina gasped so loud you jumped when her arms launched at you. “this is my fucking song!” she sounded, receiving looks at the parties around you. yeah! by user began to echo loudly on the speakers.

before you can tell dina you are not dancing, she drags you along to the dance floor, pushing anyone in the way. you stood in front of dina, slowly swaying your hips as dina let herself feel to the music, shouting the lyrics in the process.

you couldn’t help yourself but laugh at your best friend. she was completely making a fool of herself, but you knew you loved her for that. her middle name had to be party animal, because dina is wild.

jesse, as well as a few other crowds, moved their way onto the dance floor, dancing almost as wild as dina. you laughed as you reached for dina, dancing together.

you felt as if they weren’t any worries in the world. you danced and laughed, watching your best friends just enjoy themselves with no care in the world.

but the song was slowly ending and jessie and dina were laughing in each other’s arms. you were back to being single and alone.

dina watched you from behind her shoulder, still tangled around jesse. her smile faded as she watched you stand awkwardly on the dance floor. but she wasn’t frowning at you.

she was frowning at ellie standing directly behind you.

you hadn’t noticed her at all. for a long moment, you completely forgot she was here. but when you turned around and finally met eyes with her, the world felt mute, and you could only hear her breathing.

your body had frozen and her eyes only stared at hers.

ellie shifted her stance, stepping back away from you for a moment. her head fell and you finally looked away from her eyes. you felt like you couldn’t speak as she stood in front of you.

you both had so much to say to each other, but nothing was leaving your mouth. you just stood and watched her.

“can i please talk to you..” ellie whispered, only loud enough for the two of you to hear. her eyes were soft. you hadn’t how apologetic she looked in this moment. “someone private.”

it’s been months since you guys have said a word to each other, and here she is, asking to finally talk to you.

you hear dina call your name from behind you and you quickly turn your head to your best friend. “we’re gonna catch a smoke, coming?” it wasn’t a question, it was more direct. more so, “we are catching a smoke, let’s go.”

you just stared at her, confused if you should stay and say everything that was left unsaid to ellie, or if you should leave and receive no answers from her.

you turn your head to looked back at ellie. her head was raised, looking between you and dina. she was hesitant to say something but you just turned around, and walked out with dina.

because with ellie it’s always gonna be her just standing there speechless. even if she wanted to say something, you knew she wouldn’t. deep down you knew she didn’t change, she won’t change she just piles everything that’s going on inside her head and distances her self away from the people who care for her.

as of the night of the break up. she left with no explanation of what’s going on with her and just decided breaking up was the reasonable expectation.

and certainly it wasn’t.

as you frustratedly walk out to the front lawn with jesse and dina, dina looks back at you, watching your expression turn to anger faster than lightning.

“hey,” dina stopped. you let your face drop watching dina hold a smile. she placed a hand on your cheek and you tried smiling down at your best friend. “if she doesn’t want to apologize, don’t bring yourself down for it. it’s not your fault.”

this is why you loved dina. she has been through this horrible situation with you since day one. she cares for your mental health, and loves you deeply.

dina’s hand lowers to her sides, pulling out a cigarette. she holds the cigarette up to her lips, before she pulls out a lighter. once the cigarette is lit, she takes a few hits, before offering you the cigar. you easily accept it, looking around you.

“remember, we are here to embrace our zen.” dina reminded, laughing as she takes the cigarette. you smile at your best friend while she makes her way to her boyfriend.

jesse has his own cigarette, leaning against the side of the house. dina smiles at boyfriend, leaning into his hold. they haven’t really been alone since we got here and i feel awful.

i’ve been following dina around like a dog and i beg jesse is tired of my presence and just wants to talk with his girlfriend.

“hey i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i say as i step backward from the couple. dina shoot’s up from jesse. “do you want me to go with you?” she immediately says.

my head shakes, laughing at her immediate reaction. “no i’m just gonna fix my hair, or something.” dina nods her head, leaning back towards her boyfriend.

you walk inside the crowded party, moving past the crowded room. you find yourself standing in the hallway opening doors to find the bathroom.

when you finally knock on the door to what you suppose is the bathroom, a muffled voice answers. “occupied!”

you groan, leaning against the wall, beside the door. your arms cross against your exposed stomach, waiting patiently for the door to open.

the entire hallway was empty with only party lights hung around the walls. you could barely see anything in the low lighting. not even the familiar auburn girl opening the bathroom door you had been waiting to enter.

you didn’t recognize her at first, until you finally turned you eyes to look at her. both your eyes widened at the same time you finally recognized each other.

ellie opened her mouth to say something, but you didn’t want to hear it. you tried sliding into the bathroom, but ellie stopped you, slipping her hand towards your arm.

you gasped at the sudden contact, feeling completely vulnerable in the moment. ellie noticed and quickly spoke. “can i please talk to you?”

you huffed, tugging your arm away. “about what ellie? the way you just left with no explanation or the way you can’t speak like a normal person and open up to someone who loved you.” past tense.

“i wasn’t in the right mindset when we called things off, i’m sorry.” ellie spoke up, finally meeting your eyes. you looked at her pissed. that’s it? you thought. months of no contact and that’s all she has to say.

“you can’t be serious right now? you hadn’t said a word to me in months and that’s all you have to say? your need help williams.” you raged, placing your hand on the door.

ellie stepped, but you raised your finger at her. “you fucking left with you no explanation, and now your back, still with no explanation.” a tear fell down your face as you tore your finger away. “you’re a joke, ellie. if you want someone to love you, you have to open up to someone-”

“i was afraid.” ellie shouted, interrupting you. “it fucking terrified me that things were perfect and i didn’t want to get hurt. i love you so fucking much and i didn’t want things to end with me getting hurt.”

you just huffed at her response. “so you went out of your way and hurt me? that’s so low.” a small yelp left your lips as you spoke. ellie flinched at the pain in your voice.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you, i just- i just thought-” she didn’t finish her sentence, because you shut the bathroom door in her face. you stared at the shut door, waiting for her to shut your name, or say something, but she didn’t.

you heard footsteps leave the door, and you just fell. you wanted ellie to fight for what you had. you wanted her to scream at you to take her back, but she just left, again.

you sobbed for minutes before you heard a few knocks on the bathroom door. “in a minute.” you cried, rising from the floor to check yourself in the mirror. you looked like a mess. you couldn’t let dina see yourself like this. so, you reached over and fixed your makeup with a few tissues. your hair looked horrific, so you tied it back into a ponytail.

after fixing yourself, you opened the door to a couple smiling and giggling. your face dropped and moved out of the way for them to sneak into the bathroom.

the door shut and you just stared across you. looking at ellie. she sat there waiting for you to come back out. she felt as if giving up on you would haunt her for the rest of her life. she still loved you, even if you hated her for leaving what you guys use to have.

ellie raised to her feet, keeping a fair distance from you. “i’m really sorry,” she whispered. “you have every reason to hate me, yell at me, but i actually hate myself for just leaving like i did. i’m childish and an asshole, i know, but i would do absolutely anything for you to at least forgive me.”

you stared at her long and hard. what she said seemed true, but you didn’t want to get yourself hurt. “why?” you only ask, still watching her. “why did you leave me like that?”

“i told you, because i was scared.”

“why are you scared? why did you think i would leave with no-”

“because every single person i’ve cared about has left me. what we had was the only thing i cared about and i felt so afraid to loss it.” she confessed, looking into your eyes. you felt horrible. ellie wasn’t one to talk about her past, but you knew she didn’t have much family.

she stepped closer to you and you flinched slightly, so she stopped. she stopped and waited for some sort of sign that it was okay to get closer, step closer. but you didn’t. you instead stepped closer to ellie, raising your hands to her cheeks, keeping eye contact.

her hands lowed to your waist, resting there as you pulled your body closer to hers. you just needed to feel close to her, it’s been months and you just wanted her.

a small strand of hair fell in front of her eyes while she watched you. you let your fingers twirl the strand before tucking it behind her ears slowly.

you missed this.

you missed just standing close to her, having her close. but you hated wanting her, longing for her after everything you had been through the past months.

your smile dropped for a moment, letting your eyes fall. you wanted to push her away, yell at her, but you felt clung to her. like she was your missing puzzle piece. like she made you feel whole.

when you met eyes with her once more, she was forcing a smile on her lips, holding back tears. ellie has also missed this, you. she missed the way you’d hold her, the way you felt on her lips, she just missed you.

but she knew that the way she left things off wouldn’t just let you magically back into her life. so she needed you to trust her, she needed you to want her again like before.

so her hands fell from your waist, pushing you away.

“i’m not going to just expect you to want me back like nothing happened.” ellie spoke, lowing her head. “so when you’re ready, when you think i’m worthy enough to love you again, meet me in the hallway.”

your eyebrows furrowed together as she just left things off like that. million of questions and thoughts crowded your head as she just walked away, again. but the biggest thought was, what hallway? what hallway would you meet her in? where is this hallway? why’d she just leave?

then it clicked.

you and ellie had been through hell and back together. but the one thing you cherish most about your relationship was the late-night sneak ways in school hallways or party hallways. the way so many things would be going around the two of you, but you guys would always find yourself sneaking away to be alone.

when you were at your absolute worst freshman year of college, ellie found you in the dark hallway, crying. every since then, you guys care about that hallway as if it was the best thing that happened to you guys. because if ellie hadn’t walked down there, you would’ve never met her.

and if you don’t ever meet her in that hallway, you’ll never be with her like before.

senior year of college. it’s been exactly one year since the party and one year of still no communication. ellie waited in the hallway for at least two hours every single day, waiting for you.

she wanted you to want to be in the hallway like old times, but deep, deep down she knew what you guys had, was gone. and she’ll hate herself every single day for leaving you like she did.

as ellie sat against the way in her plain blue jeans and grey hoodie, she finally came to her senses you weren’t coming. it was the last day of college. everyone was packing and heading out their dorms, while ellie sat against a brick hallway wall, waiting for someone you.

and she needed to accept that.

and today she did. she gathered her bag off the floor, raising to her feet. but right when she turned around to leave. she saw you standing in your day to day clothes.

you were nervous to move, say something, but ellie couldn’t help but smile at you finally standing in front of her. you slowly smiled at the fact she was smiling at you and turned your head away.

“hi,” she whispered. her steps got closer to you and you looked at her, eyes searching her face. she looked like the same old ellie, but more mature. she looked slightly more happy and healthy with herself. you loved that for her because you yourself have grown.

you had an amazing job opportunity waiting for you after college and you’ve matured yourself.

when ellie placed a hand on your hip, you wanted to hide your face. you were smiling and blushing like crazy. but before you could cover any sign of embarrassment, ellie pulled you by your jeans hoop, kissing you hard.

you were completely surprised, but then your hands found her cheeks, holding her close. it felt amazing having to kiss ellie. you hadn’t been with anyone since the party and now that your here sharing a kiss with the only person in the world you want to be with, it was everything.

ellie pulled away first, catching her breath. her forehead leaned against yours, smiling like a little child. you smiled with her, trying to meet her eyes.

“hi.”

#ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou fic #tlou x reader #modern au #college!ellie williams #ex-gf!ellie williams #fem!reader #ellie x you #second person #ellieswifie #gracie writes

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neuvillettes · 2 years

Text

killshot | d. ragnvindr

summary | the knights of favonius celebrate their new recruits at angel’s share tavern and one of them happens to catch the owner’s eye.

pairing | diluc x fem!reader

warning | swearing, smut, degradation, spitting, dacryphilia, mean diluc, virgin!reader, thigh riding, oral {fem recieving}, exhibitionism, gagging, plugging, panty stealing, heavily unedited, i think that’s everything rip

wc | 4.3k

a/n: i am incapable of writing smut without a plot rip. pls don’t come at me for it >.<

noisy. they were all being too loud. although you guess that was par for the course for the, now, drunkards you call colleagues. most of you had just been initiated into the knights of favonius, so your superior, cavalry captain kaeya alberich, insisted on taking you all out for drinks in celebration. initially you’d declined, not one for drinking, but he insisted. kaeya was unusually persistent about it, in fact. wanting to stay on his good side, you caved. now everyone was about 3-4 drinks in and you were currently regretting your decision to join.

you huff in annoyance as you relocate yourself to the bar, trying to get away from the noise without just outright leaving. not a moment later, kaeya is very loudly asking for you and you sigh again, trying not to roll your eyes as you watch the tall man saunter over to you. you make an effort to look unbothered by his presence and by the beaming smile on the captain’s face you seem to have succeeded.

“what’re you doin’ over here, fair knight?” kaeya leans on the bar while facing you, brow raised questioningly.

you let out a soft chuckle. “ just taking a breather, not much of a drinker and i can only take so much of those drunkards. i’ll come back in a bit.”

kaeya’s attention is momentarily taken by something else behind you before his eyes connect with yours once more. “promise?”

“yeah, promise. now go, before the other recruits do something stupid.” you shoo him as he mumbles something about not being a babysitter.

you observe them for a moment, everyone flocking to kaeya, you couldn’t imagine attracting that much attention, perfectly content with being in the shadows. kaeya, however didn’t seem to mind the attention. he even seemed to thrive on the admiration being thrown his way by the other recruits. your roll your eyes, do they have no shame? admiration is one thing, but outwardly throwing yourself at a superior like some of them were was borderline pathetic.

you sigh, wishing you had a buffer here with you. you weren’t particularly close with any of your colleagues. you tended to keep to yourself, or at least you tried. it was hard to keep attention off yourself when the cavalry captain had some sort of special interest in you. he was always admiring your form and dedication to training. you never understood it, you never thought you were any better than the rest of the recruits. kaeya alberich baffled you.

“the cavalry captain seems to have taken a liking to you, fair knight.” a silky and deep voice states from behind you.

you swivel in your stool to find the most stunning man you’ve laid your eyes upon. his fluffy, long, fiery red mane is pulled up into a high ponytail, loose bangs framing his face. his ruby eyes are piercing, glowing like the embers of a fire. he’s wearing a white vest over a partially unbuttoned black dress shirt with short sleeves that are rolled up to showcase his surprisingly large biceps. your stomach twists in knots just at the sight of him.

it takes you a moment to come out of your stupor to absorb what the bartender had said and you furrow your brow. “it does seem that way, doesn’t it?” you sigh while you pick up your cup to finish off your juice.

“oh? you’re not interested?” he notices your empty glass and goes to grab an unlabeled wine glass.

you’re quick to correct his actions. “ah- i’m actually drinking-“

“grape juice. don’t worry, i noticed. kaeya was very insistent with charles and i about making a glass of juice every time he came over for another round. i took note of who it was going to, just in case someone else came for drinks. this-“ he holds up the bottle, “is from my personal stash, kaeya is aware that i keep a case of hand made grape juice here.”

you blush at the thought of him paying attention to you. “i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have assumed…”

“i’ll be the first to admit, it does look deceivingly a lot like wine. you didn’t answer my question earlier.” he raises an eyebrow at you.

you scrunch up your nose in distaste. “you caught on to that, huh? i’m not sure i’m inclined to answer that, seeing i don’t even know your name.”

“diluc. i’m diluc ragnvindr. it’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

your eyes widen at the name. you were quite familiar with it, having a mother that grew up in mondstadt. “you’re… uhm- yn ln. it’s nice to meet you as well.”

diluc watches a blush creep up onto your face, a blush his former brother was unable to make appear. despite his contempt toward the captain, diluc had to admit, kaeya had taste. you intrigued him, but more importantly, you intrigued kaeya. that made diluc want to toy with all the more.

“have you heard of me?” diluce easiy smiles and it seems to make you even more nervous.

you can’t help but to look away from his piercing gaze. “i might have heard a thing or two about you from some of the more seasoned knights. kaeya has even mentioned you by name a few times.”

“hope it was nothing bad.” the way you say kaeya’s name so easily, with a smile on your face makes diluc grind his teeth. you were so sweet and innocent, it made him want to absolutely ruin you. just then the group of knights become rowdier and burst into loud laughter and shouting. the red head observes as you cringe at the rise in volume and tap your fingers on your glass.

“you know, if you wanted to get away from all this noise for a moment, i could show you to the upstairs area. i close it off for private events like this.” your face brightens up at the mention of getting some actual peace, away from prying eyes.

you nod enthusiastically. “that would actually be amazing. i’m not one for all this noise. so to be able to escape it for a few moments? i think i’ll take you up on that offer.”

diluc nods at you with a grin before whispering something at the other bartender. the older man gives diluc a knowing look, that the both of you miss as he escorts you towards a roped off staircase. you make sure kaeya, or any of the other knights aren’t paying any attention to you as you slip away to the second floor with a man you just met. you didn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.

diluc has other ideas, however. as you ascend the staircase diluc sneaks a glance at kaeya, who just happened to be looking up in that direction, they lock eyes before kaeya’s attention is drawn away by the disappearing figure behind the former knight. diluc puts the rope back in place behind him before following you up the stairs with a smug smile. leaving kaeya downstairs to chug the rest of his wine, feeling defeated.

you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing diluc join you surprised you nonetheless. “oh, are you sure you want to stay up with me? i’m rather boring…”

something in the man’s demeanor has changed. it made you nervous and excited all at once. diluc strides over to you and you stumble into a table. he traps you as he leans in and places his hands on either side of you, making himself eye level with you.

“you know what’s annoying?” his voice is lowered, almost husky as his breath fans over your face. you lean back and look up at him through your lashes.

“w-what is?”

diluc hooks his finger under your chin and runs his thumb across your cheek as his eyes wander to your parted lips. “that my fraud of a brother gets to work with someone such as yourself, someone so absolutely gorgeous, every day when he doesn’t deserve it and you deserve more.”

“brother? kaeya’s your…?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this being the first time you’ve heard of any relationship between the seemingly polar opposite men.

the man luring over you chuckles condescendingly. “you must not be from mondstadt originally, most everyone here knows my father took kaeya in when we were children. to an outsider, however, since we are no longer close, they wouldn’t know. so, pet, where are you from?”

“a-ah… that obvious?” you chuckle nervously at the name. a blush rises to your face as his scent of cinnamon wafts over you and lingers in your nose, intoxicating you, “i’m from…fontaine, b-but my mother… she’s originally from mondstadt. she taught me to fight and- and when i got my vision…i made the decision to follow in her footsteps and become a knight of favonius.”

diluc hums and pulls away from you, but he clearly has no plan of letting you go. he pulls you with him and before you know it, he has you stumbling into his lap, straddling one of his thighs as he sits with his legs spread out. you make a noise of surprise and he laughs through his nose. his hands engulf your hips and his warmth invades your very being.

the dawn winery tycoon is more intoxicating than any alcohol you could drink in this tavern. he was dangerous, and yet, you found yourself giving in. your mind is going fuzzy like the very drunkards loudly cackling down below you, all you can think about is him and you stare at his lips, wondering what they feel like, what he tastes like, how sultry can he really make you feel?

diluc pushes you further into him, as if he can hear your thoughts, and glances at your mouth before leaning himself in the rest of the way and captures your lips. the kiss is heated and rough, he takes no time in trying to be gentle with you and you don’t try and stop him. the grip diluc has on your hips tightens, bruisingly so. he moves them to bring you as close as he can.

the friction causes you to whine out in surprise, the feeling of your clothed cunt grinding on his thigh sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. diluc smirks into the kiss and takes the opportunity to sink his tongue into your mouth and teases your own. he moves your hips back and forth a few more times before you begin to do it on your own. between the stimulation of his thigh and his mouth you can’t help but to let out whimpered gasps.

your hands are planted on his broad shoulders, bracing yourself as you move desperately back and forth. your fingers gripping onto the fabric of his shirt, knuckles lightened from the pressure. you detach your mouth from diluc’s, throwing it back as you heavily pant, trying to catch your breath as you muffle your noises.

diluc snickers. “didn’t even have to keep moving you, pet, you just started doing it on your own. you just that desperate, hm? look at you panting like a bitch in heat, it’s so pathetic. look at me.”

he lets go of one of your hips to grab your jaw and forces your head down to look at him. you’re gaze is unfocused, eyes glazed over in pleasure. diluc’s words fall on deaf ears as you’re close to reaching your first climax. you let out another whine ashis grip on your jaw tightens and his other grip shoves you down harder on his thigh.

“master diluc- sir, p-please…” you’re not sure what it is, exactly, that you’re asking for, but diluc does.

his lids flutter at the name you utter while babbling, and it makes him snap even further. he squeezes your cheeks roughly. “open up. now.” he orders.

you utter out, “yes, sir, but- fuck- gonna… gonna cum, ‘m s’close. please….” before you do as you’re told, unable to miss the authority in his voice. you open your mouth, instinctually sticking your tongue out for him.

diluc hums, “so good for me, fair knight. take this first, then you can cum, alright?”

the red head doesn’t wait for your response as he tilts your head back and hovers his face over yours once again. he lets a string of spit fall into your mouth and your eyes widen at how lewd the action is. when the saliva hits your tongue you let your eyes roll back at the taste of him. he holds your mouth open letting the rest messily spill in. the last of it trailing off and drooling over your lip. diluc notices and licks up any excess then lets go of your face.

“swallow.” diluc demands and as you do so, the tightening coil inside of you finally snaps and you release a garbled moan. doing as he told and barely being able to wait to let yourself reach your peak. in your euphoria you slump over and bite into diluc’s shoulder in an attempt to mute your noises. it’s not very effective but it’s enough to keep your noises from reaching the tavern patrons below. diluc hisses at your noise canceling methods but can’t help the way his cock twitches at the feeling.

you’re still reeling from your orgasm as diluc cups your ass and picks you up. you gasp in surprise as the sudden movement catches you off guard. within the same moment, you’re being laid out on the table you were previously sitting at. despite having come down from your high, your mind is still foggy and it takes you a moment to fully register what’s happening. that is until diluc’s hands are traveling up your body and hooks his fingers at the waistband of your spandex pants that, in diluc’s mind, don’t leave much to the imagination.

as diluc peels back the clothing, exposing your skin and glistening cunt, you immediately shut your legs. you’re not used to someone gazing upon your most intimate parts. it made you weary, yet, you didn’t want to stop. diluc catches on to your actions and furrows his brow. he’s silent for a moment as the two of you just stare at one another. then something akin to a light bulb turning on brightens up diluc’s face in realization.

his voice is incredulous as he speaks, “what’s this? my fair knight, have you never been touhed before”

a blush flourishes on your features and you find it hard to keep eye contact. you turn your head in embarrassment and bring the back of your hand up to cover the bottom half of your face. “the opportunity- it’s n-never arisen, no….”

diluc hums and you see him lower to his knees from the corner of your eye. you look over to him in surprise as he grips your thighs and pulls you into him. his mouth level with your core. you can feel his warm breath fanning over your needy cunt and you squirm.

“w-what are you…”

diluc raises a brow at you in amusement. “i need to make sure your properly prepared before you can take my cock, pet.”

your eyes widen at his words. “diluc…”

“i much prefer the name you called me earlier.” he tuts, giving you a look of playful disappointment.

your eyebrows scrunched together before what he meant hits you. “sir…”

the tycoon hums in approval and darts out his tongue to lick a stripe up your drooling cunt. your hands immediately fly to his mane and tug. you’re given another hum of approval and you don’t have time to worry whether you were pulling too harshly. he repeats his previous ministrations before pulling back and scolding you.

you whine at the loss of contact, eyes flying open to gape at him. “you’re far too loud. those drunk knights down there are going to hear how much of a whore you really are. do you want that?” you shake your head. “then keep it down, or i’ll have to shove your underwear in your mouth to shut you up myself.”

you almost let out a whimper but narrowly manage to keep it in as diluc dives back in. this time his tongue is focused solely on your clit. your nails scratch at his scalp in anticipation as you feel one of his fingers poke at your entrance. he plays with your hole, gathering at much slick onto his finger as he can. when he’s satisfied with how wet his fingers are he slowly sinks one into you.

your toes curl and back arches at the feeling. diluc smiles proudly at your reaction, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking harshly. you can’t help yourself, you let out a string of whimper moans. his finger starts pumping in and out of you at a slow pace, he’s making sure to curl the digit and rotate his wrist, focusing on touching every inch inside of you.

your grip on diluc hair tightens as he continues to explore your ticks. your whimpered moans turn into desperates ones as you feel another finger prodding at your entrance. the stretch you feel as diluc pushes the second finger into you is divine. you almost scream out. the pain of the stretch as he rubs along your velvety walls makes your head spin in the best way possible.

you let out the most sinful moan and it has diluc growing impatient as his already strained cock twitches and leaks in his pants. “diluc- sir- fuck, feels s’good… want more, please, please, please. need more of you s’bad.”

your babbling is slurred and diluc can tell you’re getting close. he leans back, mouth detaching from your clit and pumps his fingers into you a few more time before removing them as well. you let out a whine at the sudden end to your pleasure. looking up at diluc, suddenly alert, you watch as he stands up and fumbles with his pants.

the questioning look on your face dies when he successfully unbuttons his trousers and let’s them, along with his underwear, drop to the floor. he let’s a sigh of relief as his cock is finally set free. you stare at it and gulp at the sheer size and girth. your head spinning once more at the thought of him even fitting inside of you.

you look up to diluc, barely having registered that he’s moved in closer with something balled up in his fist. you’re pouting as you voice your concerns. “will-will it even fit?”

your bottom lip is trembling in anticipation and diluc coos. “of course it will, pet. don’t worry, i’ll be gentle. at first. now, as much as i would love for kaeya to hear how much of a whore you can be for me, i don’t like the thought of anyone else being able to hear those pretty noises but me. so i need you to open up for me again.”

your eyes widen at his crude words but open your mouth nonetheless. diluc reveals that the thing he had crumpled up in his hand was your panties. he grins wickedly at your gaze and stuffs the material into your mouth. “you look so pretty like this, cunt drooling and on full display, mouth gagged with your own panties. you look so scandalous, fair knight, and to think you’re only a virgin. don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure to absolutely ruin you.”

diluc runs his shaft through your folds, mixing your juices with his and collecting them onto his cock. his thumb is pressing into your swollen clit and he makes just enough friction there to have you squirming. you let out muffled whimpers and pleas. diluc lines himself up with your entrance and halts for a moment to look at you earnestly. he shifts himself and interlocks his hand with one of yours.

“if it’s too much, squeeze my hand twice, i’ll stop.” you’re caught off guard by his change in demeanor. your heart melts at his concern and you nod, trying to convey your appreciation through your eyes.

“just relax for me now, okay?” diluc slowly sinks the head of his cock into your tight hole and your back arches and eyes prick with tears as the sting of the stretch engulfs you. diluc is true to his word and takes his time bottoming out. your breathing heavily as he stills and slowly the sting subsides and turns into pleasure.

“fuck- you’re so fuckin’ tight, pet. feel s’good wrapped around my cock like this. you ready for me to start moving?” the red head hums and looks to you expectantly. your eager to nod your head and he chuckles. “such a desperate little knight, huh? even though i just took your innocence, you want more. greedy, aren’t we? so pathetic…”

diluc pulls almost all the way only to snap his hips back into yours. you let out a muffled scream, not fully prepared for the sudden movements. now that you had adjusted, diluc didn’t waste any time with properly fucking you into the table. his cock bullying into your cunt harshly, hips crashing with yours as his pelvis brushed against your clit.

diluc reaches over to sneak an arm under your and pushes them up to press against your chest. he has you folded into a mating press and the new angle has the tip of his cock stumbling into your sweet spot with every thrust. you’re letting out muffled cries, tears flowing down your cheeks as the stimulation is almost too much.

diluc groans as quietly as he can as he feels you start to clamp down on his length. you squeeze his hand that’s still holding yours to warn him that you’re close. “gonna cum again for me? already that close, pet? just hold on a little longer for me. gotta cum with you. just hold on…”

diluc is starting to babble as he gets closer to his own release. his hips movements begin to stutter and become sloppy. your back is arched and eyes blurry with tears as you try to plead with him to let you cum. it doesn;t take long for diluc to get to the edge with you.

his words the final push you need. “gonna cum now, cum with me, be a good pet and come with me- fuck fuck fuck…”

your walls spasm and you let out a muffled wail as you come crashing down. your orgasm making your vision go white. diluc’s cock throbs as he spills his seed into your pulsing cunt. he continues to languidly thrust, stimulating you through your highs and fucking his cum into you. your completely spent as your vision returns.

diluc slumps over and onto you with a grunt. he looks up at you and reaches out to remove the cloth from your mouth. you let out a gasped pant, trying to catch your breath. diluc peppers kisses along your jawline before pushing himself back up and finally pulling out of you. he watches as some of his cum spills out of you, he collects it with your panties and stuffs them into you to plug you up. your jolt at the action, feeling far too sensitive.

diluc chuckles breathily. “sorry, darling. can’t have you making a mess of the taverns table now. wait right here for me. i need to get you some water and something to clean you up with. i’ll be right back.” he leans down and places a tender kiss to your forehead, then the tip of your nose and finally your lips. when he pulls back, he waits for a response and you simply nod.

diluc dresses himself and fixes his ponytail that you had successfully ruined with all your tugging. he disappears down the staircase and reappears a few minutes later. a damp towel and glass of water in hand. he carefully removes your underwear, stuffing them into his pocket to keep. he cleans you up with the warm towel and helps you put your pants back on. he sits down and pulls you into his lap once more before handing you a glass of water.

you thank him and greedily drink from the glass. “you know, kaeya approached me while i was down there.”

you look at him curiously, urging him to go on. he chuckles at how cute you look right now and tucks away a loose strand of hair from your face. “he asked me if you were feeling alright, apparently he heard some groaning.”

you splutter and almost choke on your water as diluc barks out a hearty laugh while patting your back soothingly. you wipe your mouth and look at him wide eyed and flushed. “w-what did you tell him?”

“i simply told him that your stomach was hurting. he seemed to believe it or, at the very least, that’s what he wanted to believe…” he grins at you mischievously.

you let out a dejected groan. “for my sake, i hope he actually did believe you.”

“don’t think i would mind if he didn’t. have to let him know somehow that you’re mine now and he can’t try and play with you anymore.”

you scowl at the tycoon but there’s no malice behind it. “yours? i don’t remember agreeing to that and i’m not sure i would.”

“come home with me tonight, let me change your mind with a few more rounds and breakfast in the morning.” diluc rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at you expectantly.

you make the mistake of looking at him, unable to say no to a face like that you sigh, knowing well that you’re going to cave. looks like you were going to have to break your promise of coming back to kaeya.

#diluc x reader #genhsin impact #diluc #genshin impact x reader #diluc x fem!reader #one shot #fem!reader

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