#something like pining something like letting go something like i love you the story still ends something like anywas dont be a stranger

[missmarveledsblog]

It's only pretend right? ( Bucky barnes x reader ) part one

summary : bucky (more so steve) agree's to be Y/N fake boyfriend for a week at her families ranch , he discovers his best friend left out some part that not all of her family is accepting of her but bucky is gonna be there every step to show them why she the best .

warnings : none well some shitty members of family , slow fast burn , idiots in love , mutual pining ,

A.N : this has been on back burner for so long so decided to let her out , sort of goofy love story some angst thrown in but mostly fluffy our dear bucky deserves that

The sun gleamed through  the sky as most of the team enjoyed the rare time off, that was until her screams rang out through the compound sending him to break out  into a sprint to the noise. He moved so fast it could have been compared to pietro maximoff  not that he cared for anything like that , not in these moments . Due to the universe and its cruel ongoing joke  , he was expecting the worst case scenario. Was she taken? , fighting against assailants? Was she hurt? It all came to his mind as he ran toward the source of the noise and yet in an instant that fear melted away when he heard her giggles and laughs looking in with now amusement. The sight was something James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t help smile so widely at .  There he watched as three  avengers stood like naughty children trying not to laugh at their own actions covered in ice cream and god knows what else. . 

“ Now pretty girl not so funny now is it?” Sam teased. 

“ What is going on here?” Bucky crossed his arms. 

“ Well little miss here thought it was funny when poor stevie here fell spilling ice cream all over himself” sam started. 

 “ Actually you laughed first. If I can remember , I may have given her something to laugh at. "Steve chuckled. 

“ He hit him right in the face with ice cream” she fell into Steve in a burst of laughter. “ So I showed her how it felt,”Sam nudged her.  

“ Literal children '' Tony rolled his eyes looking at the earth's mightiest heroes covered  head to toe in a now melted sweet treat.

 “ Hey in my defense I came in to make the team  something to  cool down. They insisted on helping” she held her hands up. 

“ Well that defense goes out the window when you're the one who tripped cap” tony smirked .

 “ you little..” Steve began chasing her . 

“ language” she giggled, rushing to get away from the super soldier which usually wasn’t an easy feat but the ice cream that covered the floor both helped and hindered her escape.

“ Bucky help” she ran into the men's arms , a  both sudden and most welcomed action. 

“ Leave my doll alone punk” he carried her out chuckling when he turned his head to see her sticking her tongue out at his best friend. 

 “Very mature” steve copied her action. 

“ Just friends my ass,” Sam called.

She didn’t hear the words , still now aimlessly talking about her sister's new dog but bucky heard. A phrase he wished he could say was fact but it wasn’t because they were just friends . How he wished he could call  the most beautiful being he’s ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on in all the years he’d been alive . how even something as hearing her voice made his worst days the best. How her laugh was in his own words definitely heaven sent. In four years , 2 with shield and 2 with the team  he had studied every detail of the woman at his side , first because he didn’t trust new people then it was because he actually wanted to get to know her , the more he found out the more he fell for her. All her mannerisms he knew so he could tell when she wasn’t having a great day and he made it his mission to make it better. How she bristled like a kitten at the sight of John Walker,  something he found in common and found adorable all in one. 

If anyone were to ask James Barnes to describe his perfect woman that description would have been Y/N L/N because to him she was perfect. How she cared so deeply about those around her friends , family or even a casualty in a mission. That soft , sweet side  along with the spitfire , kickass , stubborn and oh so sarcastic side that could rival stark in every way. She was serious when it came to missions but would be the first to cheer up and make everyone laugh after the mission . so it wasn’t hard at all for Bucky to fall for the woman. What he found hard was trying to express how he felt. When he went to tell her how he truly felt, suddenly he felt  like he had swapped bodies with pre-serum Steve back in the day or the spider kid. Words would sometimes fail to even come out his mouth which was better when the words jumbled or stuttered , a stumbling mess that ultimately shut him up changing the topic completely.

 “ So now I got the time off and all well I have to go for like a week and need to find a date in the next 24 hours” she sighed knocking the man back to earth completely confused to what she was talking about.

 “ Sorry, what doll?” he shook his head. 

“ My family reunion is a big deal sort of thing , my sister and brother both proposing to their girlfriends” she laughed . 

“ hey bucky can go… sorry” steve winced seeing her jumping at his sudden appearance. 

“ missions ?” she rolled her eyes.

 “ Thor and Loki will be here,” Steve shrugged.

 “ Well then settled i’ll be your date” bucky smiled awkwardly wanting to kiss his best friend's ass .

 “ wait really … oh my god thank you bucky i’ll make it up and promise not to be the world worst fake girlfriend , ok i gotta pack you should do the same, oh nat waiting for me and i need to shower” she beamed almost skipping off to  her room .

 “ i’ll help him out” steve called . 

 “ Your welcome jerk,” the blonde chuckled before walking ahead toward his best friend's room while the man in question tried computing what the hell happened .     

“ what the hell happened you” nat chuckled sitting on the bed looking  her best friend walking in covered in god know what.

 “ food fight with cap and bird brain” she shook her now stiff hair. 

“Steve tells me Bucky is going to be your fake boyfriend for the week” she wiggled her brows.

 “ yeah let me shower first and freak out about that after” she ran into the ensuite heart pounding.  Nerves coursing through her  as she had to pretend to be in love even though she was definitely not going to fake it.  Since day one of meeting James Buchanan Barnes , well had her hook line and sinker. How could he not the man would cause a nun to sin with how hot he was. Pair that up with caring , understanding and all around amazing well she never stood a chance. Now she was going to spend the week pretending , almost having a taste of what it would be like to be the one he called his .  even thinking of it made her knees weak and yet she shook it from her head knowing natasha was sitting outside on her bed. Scrubbing her hair as she giggled while sprinkles fell at her feet and enjoying the mobility of her hair again . 

While only across the hall Bucky Barnes was panicking as he thought of the whole thing once Steve filled him in on the conversation he missed .

 “ This is perfect. I mean you could  make this the week you confess and finally get your girl” the blonde beamed brightly.

 “ or completely screw up and lose her completely because let's be real with my life that is the most likely option” he pulled the case out. 

“ Aye my man finally got the girl '' Sam cheered as he walked into the room 

 '' One shut up she could hear you and two I'm a fake boyfriend” he hissed, shutting the door  . 

“ well put on a good show that she will want the real thing… not like that not already of the case” he mumbled .

 “ ok sit we can do this, '' Steve led him to the bed, pulling out clothes and a couple of suits .

 '' What if I screw this up so bad she’ll quit the team and I'll never see her again” he stood pacing while the other two men rolled their eyes .

 “ or you’ll see what we see '' Steve mumbled but the man before them was too lost in his head to pay attention  to the non stop hints they tried to but he never did so it wasn’t anything new .

  “ ok so the clothes end will be sorted and tony agreed to the time off well he told me to tell you not to waste it” steve smirked before heading off into the bathroom . “ Clint said he can drop you both off before he heads home so flights are covered,” Sam added . 

“ Ok man, think of this week , where you don’t have to hide those feelings where you can act around her like you’ve always wanted to act” Sam turned, seeing Bucky still freaked out. 

“ What if I make her uncomfortable?” he asked. 

 “ i’m not saying bang her on the spot  i mean little thing like when your trying to hide the fact you stare at her like stark looks at his suits or pepper” sam rolled his eyes.

 “ he’s right Stark loves those suits and you love Y/N'' Steve teased throwing the bag of toiletries into the suitcase.

 “ this can be good … or it's going to be a complete disaster” .

“ how the hell am i going to do this… is it too late to fake my death and start a new life” she asked pacing while Nat and now wanda took the task to pack her suitcase.

“ No faking your death” nat rolled her eyes as wanda giggled .

 “ how the hell am i going to convince my parents i’m with bucky but not scare off my best friend… male best friend” she corrected herself after nat shot her a look. 

 “ Be the way you guys are already,” Wanda winked.

“ be serious here i don’t want to lose my best friend.. You know what i mean” she rolled her eyes at nat. 

“ You won't ok ,  you couldn’t lose Bucky even if you tried. '' Nat smiled softly  just like the guys, the woman before them was completely oblivious to what was in front of her.

 "I'd cancel but i can’t miss my brother and sister's engagement .. to separate people we ain’t that far down south '' she clarified  hearing the words coming out her mouth . “ We know what you mean , look, just use the time to get the taste of the experience” nat said. 

“ Maybe your eyes will finally see,” Wanda whispered under her breath.

 “ hopefully we can sell it enough so my aunts and uncles finally stop with their matchmaking and finally like me   i mean one of their blind dates brought me to a strip club was fun i mean  he even gave me my own ones but that doesn’t scream marry me , ”she winced as the two women fell into a fit of laughter. 

“ Is that why I keep finding glitter on you?” Nat wiped tears from her eyes.

 “ Yeah, that courtesy of candy , we’re friends on facebook , great gal was gonna hire her for peter's birthday next month actually ” she smiled. 

“ You'll kill the kid,” Wanda snorted. 

“ Hey, death by candy is a way to go,”she winked. 

“ You realize she and Peter are the same age and now i don’t know if you want bucky or candy” nat teased. 

“ Ok enough on my bi curiosities of my new stripper friend , how am i going to survive a week of pretending to be in love but not in love with my best friend … nat stop glaring you know what i mean” . 

 “ This is gonna kill me”she fell back onto the bed. 

Ten minutes he must have been standing at the door paralyzed nerves taking over and words escaping his mind to why he was there. 

 “ Just knock man this is pitiful , to think this is the once feared winter soldier can’t even knock on chicks door” tony rolled his eyes as bucky glared at the man. “ oh for fuck sake , thank me later terminator , don’t screw it up” was all the billionaire said before thumping the door and running off a bucky stood looking down the hall to contemplate how this was his life.

 “ fucking asshole should of kill him instead of how… how are you doll you busy” he caught himself as she looked puzzled at the man. He could hear the laughs before the two women came to view .

 “ shes all your barnes” nat winked letting him only confirm more people were aware of his feelings .

 “ Tell candy we say hello” Wanda snorted as she followed Nat down the hall. “Candy?” he arched his brow. 

“ my new erm .. stripper friend .. come in “ she cleared her throat trying to ignore the glint in his eyes when she said it.

 “ what… actually tell me another time I'm here to go over a back story like the way we do on missions so I don't say the wrong thing or we get caught out” he smiled softly as her own feature light up at the suggestion . 

“ You clever son of a bitch” she danced excitedly. The little drawl in her voice came out more when she was either happily excited or pissed off. 

“ i didn’t even think of that , i mean you’ve met my parents not my siblings so sorry for that .. you’ll understand when you meet them” she snorted leading him into the room and toward her sofa . 

“ Ok so obviously we met at work which I think my mom and dad just wanna prove i am actually an avenger” she chuckled. 

“ Who asked who out?” he asked softly.

 “Well I mean you asked me out cause if my aunts think the other way around they will think you're desperate or held hostage they have old way of thinking on somethings” she winced.

 “ Ok deal , how long have we been together?” he asked . 

“ Six months it's not too long to wonder why we aint been announced and not too short for you to meet the family” she nodded.

 “ PDA” he coughed, hiding the nervous break in his voice.

 “ Whatever you're comfortable with, we don’t have to go full PDA  so I won't jump you during family dinner” she teased . “ Well I mean we cuddle and hold hands all time so that part ain’t so hard right ” she added her cheeks flushing.

 “ No, it's a fine doll, I mean it’s kinda handy knowing all about you , well I thought I did until the whole stripper thing” he laughed.

 “ Hey candy is an artist and everything huh? My my bucky barnes i didn’t know you were a fan” she teased . 

“ says the one with 50 pictures next to my exhibit” he countered .

 “ Hey, it's not my fault bird brain can't take a good picture anyway, shut it before I can  switch you out with candy” she stuck her tongue out .

 “ I mean you could but do they know her like they know me” he asked . 

“ unless they frequent strip clubs when they visit.. Ok i grossed myself out”she scrunched up her nose at the thought while bucky though she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

 "Go on doll hit the hay Clint is bringing us so you know it’s going to be early as hell” he stood kissing  her head  before walking out the room while she in turn fell on to the bed knowing the star of the dreams she was going to have was just across the hall.

[euyrdice]

screaming crying throwing up thinking ab aokise. it’s just like. childhood friends. right person wrong time. childhood wasn’t kind to us, was it? it wasn’t our fault we got farther from each other. i wish we’d tried harder to stay in reach. high school isn’t so bad. are you happy? your team lost, mine won. my team lost, yours won. i am sorry we’re meeting like this. we always find our way back but not in the way we wanted. you seem happier now. you love basketball again. it’s something in your eyes. i wish i had been the one to bring you back. what an awful thought, right? you know i’ve always been selfish. i feel something aching when i look at you. we’re a little awkward when we run into each other, but we’re both good at playing it cool. joking around like nothing has changed. i heard you got accepted into university. does the air feel heavy to you when we’re together? is it just me? i don’t know what to say to you; i won’t say anything at all. you looked nice in your graduation suit. your mother said she misses me. i’ve been googling how to stop looking back. the cherry blossoms are starting to bloom. do you think of me like i think of you? i am starting in the next university basketball game despite being a first year; no one’s surprised. i’m thinking of you less now. i heard someone laugh and it sounded like yours. don’t be a stranger. you’re not a stranger. someone on my new team asked me about you. why can’t i understand that you’ve been a stranger for a long time. see you around. good game. nice to see you.

[itwoodbeprefect]

i've been watching things with ghosts in them (as in, fictional ones. the gentlest of fictional ghost stories) and. i won't do it because this is not the sort of thing i do. or even the sort of thing i want to do, at all. but if it were. if there were any part of me that did want to do it. then this would be what gets me to write major character death fic for one of the buddy cop fandoms

[watchmegetobsessed]

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says. 

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol switcharoo (pt3)

Stan pines x reader/ ford pines x reader

Summary: 30 years pass and you meet stanfords family.

Warning: NONE

Sorry for another short chapter. Consider this a filler episode. Chapter four should be better.

~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

30 years is a long time.

You can do a lot in that time.

You can live a lot of different lives in 30 years.

You started cutting your hair in that time, Stanford taught you to box, You'd gone on many different adventures. Most of which you often questioned the legality of, but they still made you laugh.

Now you mainly tended to the Mystery shack no more adventures, you wondered as you sat on the couch next to Stanford when you'd gotten so old. And when your life had changed so much.

You had almost forgotten all about anything before your family vacation. you and Stanford had grown into a pretty comfortable life together. You wouldn't lie you'd come to love the life you've grown into with him.

But you've also missed the adventures you used to go on, finding monsters , exploring the unknown.

But you were only met with gluing eyeballs to pieces of plastic halloween decorations and making up stories to make out of towns folk get a good laugh in.

You had tried to find Stanfords journals just to "relive the glory days" but with no luck.

You were never sure what happened to them, if he had accidentally tossed them out, if he had lost them himself or if that was part of what happened while you where away. Either way you stopped looking. You never asked about them either.

Stanford seemed to really enjoy his life with you too, you never got the idea he wanted to turn back or like he was waiting for some big adventure.

"This may sound corny but you and the mystery shack are my big adventure...I wouldn't trade you or the old shack for anything y/n. Not. For. ANYTHING."

So you stopped worrying yourself with the journals or the old research, let alone the real monsters that lurked in the woods.

You hunkered down, sold stories and bumper stickers in your matching suits and watched night time television before falling asleep on top of eachother every night.

This was the routine you'd fallen into. You found it odd if you had to sleep without Stanfords shoulder as your pillow or his jolt of laughter before he realized you fell asleep. It was odd for both of you to not debate who got giftshop duity over tour duties. (You always got gift shop.)

It was odd when a pair of twins arrived on your front lawn.

"You never talk about your family." You said following Stanford down the stairs to meet them. "Sure I do." He said clearly a little nervous.

"Mmm no...I didn't know you had a sister! Let alone great neices and nephews!..excuse us, Soos." You say almost chasing him through the gift shop almost knocking soos over.

He paused as both of you looked out the little door window at them. "Listen...I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my family... to be fair... we aren't really close..but somethings came up and-" You could see his stress building up as he tried to piece together something that made you understand how important it was to make a good impression on those kids.

You placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here with you... you can explain it all later, but right now, I'm right by your side, like always." He smiled and placed a hand on top of yours.

Before heading outside to me, you are in tow.

"I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD A GREAT AUNT! A GRANT!? A GRRR...GRAUNT!?" The girl in the pair shouted excitedly after stan had introduced you to them.

"That's cause you don't. We aren't married y/ns a friend."

You laughed at the girl who energetically and enthusiastically introduced herself as Mable. The introduction was followed by several need to know now questions, all of which would later be scribbled onto a paper for you to fill out and return to her.

☆what's your favorite color

☆ do you like my grunkle stan?

☆if you were a magical creature, what would you be? Why? WHAT WOULD I BE? why?

☆do you LOOOOVEEE grunkle stan?

☆opinion on stickers?

"Alright, you two leys get you up to your room for the summer." Stan said, pulling Mable away from you and grabbing her bags.

You grabbed the second set of bags and followed stan and the two kids.

"Dipper, right?" You asked the boy who fell in line with you "oh yea! Yep that's me!" He laughed nervously.

"Very cool name,I like your hat by the way." You prayed you didn't seem like you were trying too hard to get them to like you.

"So you and grunkle stan run this place?" Dipper asked, looking at all your hot glue collages as Stanford decided to give them the grand tour before their room.

"Yup." You nodded.

"What's the point? Isn't this all fake? I mean... I can see the string on the invisible man's glasses." He said pointing out the attraction as you passed.

"Oh c'mon Dipper, how could you not love the jackalope!? Is he a deer? Is he a rabbit? I can't tell!" Mable said, carrying the creature in her arms like a teddy bear.

"I just don't get it? Why lie to people when I'm sure there has to be something real out there!"

You smiled at him. He sounded like you when you were a kid...he sounded more like Stanford before the shack. "You like the supernatural?" You asked.

"Oh yea, dippers a huge nerd he loves all that junk!" Mable said punching her brother in the shoulder.

"Oh, here we go! Don't get this one started on mystery and supernatural boogie men!" Stanford said, stopping to join your conversation.

"Y/n used to be big on hunting and looking for stuff like this." He said, wrapping his arm around you. "Used too...I haven't in over 30 years...it got too complicated." You opted to give them a simple answer as to why you stopped.

"Really!? That's so cool!" Dipper exclaimed. "If you ever need someone to go on adventures with, you can trust me."

Over the upcoming weeks, it was slightly rocky with the kids getting settled in, but eventually, they started warming up to the shack as well as yourself and Stanford.

You were quite pleased to have their company, actually. You felt something change in your everyday lives when they entered the shack.

"Depending on who you ask." You said continuing your story as you placed plates in front of the kids. "Your grunkle and I are married." The kids gasped. "Only through some silly machine in Vegas it wasn't real there was this one time -"

Stan chuckled to himself as you told the story of your fake marriage in Vegas as he watched the three of you laugh in the kitchen.

He smiled. Watching you frantically move your arms to further dramatice the story, a certain shine he'd noticed had been missing from your eyes for a few years now. You had it when he'd met you.

The same day, he knew things would be different for him. They HAD been different. You accepted him for everything he was. You went along with his crazy shenanigans. You gave up a whole life for him.

He remembered the birthday parties you had thrown for him. Even if you were the only person to be there for him.

He knew after a few years of you doing so that you would always be the only one there. He had the strangest feeling the night of his 35 birthday when he realized this.

He lied awake in bed, staring at the ceiling when it occurred to him what the feeling was.

"Oh no."

He quietly snuck away from you and the kids, still hearing your laughter erupt through the house behind him. He made his way into the darkened gift shop and punched a code into the vending machine, and went down to the basement he swore to you he'd destroyed.

30 years, and all he had offered you was lies. After all you'd done for him after all the care you'd shown him after all you had sacrificed. He just wanted you to have a normal life. A good life.

Not something he had fabricated.

He spent most of his time thinking about the large machine that still sat in his basement, the other half worrying about you. If he was giving a good life if he was soing as good a job being in your life as you had done for him.

He worried about what might happen when, IF he was able to pull of bringing his brother back.

How would you react to being lied to for 30 years. Maybe you did really feel the same way he had felt about you for years and you would forgive him.

In order for that to work, he'd have to actually admit his feelings to you.

He wanted to, he also wanted do a lot more for you in the 30 years you'd been together but always failed before he could make a move or do anything really. He pushed aside a notepad filled with ideas of kind gestures he could do for you (most of which were crossed out) and replaced the space with the journal Ford had left him.

He would get it right.

All of it.

Eventually.

Then again.

He could always ask Mable.

While you laughed with two kids at a dinner table and Stanley beat himself up about lying and tried to rebuild his life.

The real Stanford pines sat out there amongst the stars with nothing but a creased photo of the two of you and wondered why it was taking you so long to find him.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~

Taglist:

@muffin1304

@katharine3000

@leo4242564

@space1crow

@steveharringtongf

@mckennaishere07

@nothingbutcloud

@anicega

@i-am-tiredd

@babydoll-143

@fanficcrow

@slay-thou-pookie

@bandaids-n-porceline

[ja3yun]

I'm a Virgin, Not a Murderer: ch.1 | pop your cherry

virgin!heeseung x sex worker!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m.rec), blue balls, murder, mentions of blood, sex work (use of words tart card and prostitute), set in the 90's london, heeseung is a loser, anything else lmk wc: 11.2k ch.1 synopsis: determined to lose his virginity, heeseung follows his friend's plan and ends up hiring you to pop his cherry, little does he know that he'll walk out of that room something much worse than a virgin a/n: hi! this is the first instalment of iavnam and i am so so so excited to share this with you all. this is a silly, fun fic that i hope you can enjoy but i will say that it has some moments of angst throughout. feedback, comments, reblogs, and likes are all appreciated and i hope you give loser!hee a chance

masterlist | chapter 2

“What am I going to do? I can’t enter working life a virgin.” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his temples as he complains.

Heeseung is a gentle soul, the type of boy you read about in novels or see in cheesy romance films. No, he’s not the bad boy with a hidden heart of gold or the burly football player with a secret love for the arts. Heeseung is the overlooked best friend, the quiet boy pining from the sidelines, the introverted geek who spends his Fridays alone while the girl he loves rushes off with the popular guy.

At 22, Heeseung has never been with a girl. He can’t even look at one for more than ten seconds without sweating or mumbling about the new Toy Story film that was released last year. And with only two months left before he graduates, the thought of entering the adult world as a virgin weighs heavily on him. He might be the only one from the Class of ‘96 who hasn't had this experience, and he feels an urgent need to change that.

He watches his friends with a mix of envy and longing as they get into relationships or have sex with the nearest girl at a party, wishing it could be him for once. All his life, he’s dreamt of a perfect romance where a boy meets a girl, they fall in love, and share their first time.

All in all, Heeseung just wants to be in love with the person he loses himself to. But time is ticking, and he’s starting to realise that his dream of a whirlwind romance might not be feasible. He might have to settle for whatever chance he can get.

“What’s the use in complaining if you aren’t going to talk to a girl for more than a minute?” Jongseong mutters into his beer can, eyes still trained on the Sony Trinitron TV in front of him.

Jongseong has had this conversation with Heeseung so many times that it’s starting to bore him. He understands his best friend’s desire for a meaningful connection; anyone would want that. But Heeseung’s idealism clashes with Jongseong’s pragmatic nature. For months - no, years - he’s been telling Heeseung to either take action or let it go. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin at any age, and Heeseung used to see it that way too. Yet, for some reason, he’s convinced he’d be the laughingstock of any office if word got around.

All throughout high school, Heeseung was the same: stuttering and twitching whenever a girl looked at him. Jongseong has never seen anyone worship women as Heeseung does while simultaneously being utterly terrified of them.

Heeseung suddenly grabs the can from Jongseong’s hand, stunning him, and slams it onto the coffee table of their apartment. “I’m serious, Jongseong. I’m doing it this time, for real.” There’s determination and fire in his voice, even though his heart is pounding at the thought.

Turning to face him, still in a can-holding position, Jongseong raises an eyebrow. “You’re really going to do it? No wimping out?” he asks incredulously. It’s not that he doesn’t believe his friend’s words; he’s just surprised by how assured Heeseung looks.

Nodding, Heeseung crosses his legs on the couch. “Absolutely! And I have a plan.”

“Oh god, what is it?” Jongseong asks nervously, apprehensive about what kind of plan the virgin has concocted for himself.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “Alright, so here’s the deal. I’m going to start small and take baby steps. First, I’ll join a club or a group where I can meet people without the pressure of one-on-one interactions. Maybe a book club or a film society. That way, I can get more comfortable talking to girls in a casual setting.”

Jongseong nods slowly, considering the idea. “Okay, that sounds reasonable. Except all the clubs and meets have stopped now considering it’s two months until summer vacation.” The younger rolls his eyes, picking his can back up. “What other plans do you have?”

There is a silence in the air which pauses Jongseong mid-sip. Scratching the back of his neck, Heeseung sheepishly shrugs and winces at his friend's disappointing gaze. It took him a week to come up with that one plan, hoping that he could ride on the waves of already-formed groups. He did, however, come up with the plan 4 months ago and just has never put it into action, so it is a little outdated.

“It was a solid plan!” he huffs and crosses his arms, pouting like a baby despite being the oldest of the two. “It’s not like I can just phone up a girl on one of those fancy mobiles and ask her to fuck me.”

Jongseong’s ears perk up, eyes widening as if he’s just hit the motherload of all ideas. His excitement makes Heeseung sit up in attention, furrowing his brows as he watches him stand up and turn the TV off. “You’re a fucking genius, Lee.”

Although the compliment settles fondly in his heart, he still doesn’t know why he is a genius nor does he have time to think about it before his best friend drags him by the arm outside of the flat and into the street, striding towards something with tenacity. 

He complains about the grip Jongseong has on him but follows him regardless, feet rushing to keep up the pace as they make their way down the street and into the skirts of the city. Heeseung knows better than to argue with the boy when he is on a mission like this, the last time he did so was when Jongseong went on the hunt for the last Thor comic book, edition #487 and Heeseung told him to just ‘get it another time’. Turns out, everyone and their granny wanted it and with Heeseung constantly holding them up, he missed out on the first press. The boy never heard the end of it and was almost disowned.

So he trails idly behind him until they reach a phone booth. The glass is taped with flyers of missing dogs and Y2K conspiracies, babysitter ads and jobs for hire. It’s a mess, yet Jongseong seems to be looking for something in particular.

“I know I said phoning up a girl, but I hardly think Mystic Michelle sees me in her future,” Heeseung snorts, dipping his hands into his pockets. He refuses to tell Jongseong that in a desperate attempt to find out when he would lose his virginity, he had already phoned a psychic medium who told him, “You’ll lose it when you choose to travel.” Considering he has never and likely will never step foot outside his hometown, he deemed that as his first and last time trusting in the universe’s whispers.

Jongseong, ignoring Heeseung’s quips, searches diligently until he sees the poster hanging inside the booth and immediately whips the door open, dragging the surprised black-haired boy into the tight space with him. With urgency, he tears the number tab off of the bright red poster and thrusts it into Heeseung’s hand.

Pointing to the poster, Jongseong smirks. “She is your ticket out of virginville,” he says playfully yet a serious undercurrent waves through his voice. If Heeseung is going to get laid, and fast, he is going to need a professional.

Heeseung looks closely at the poster and sees a girl in a white-laced thong posing in front of a red background, her left arm covering her plump tits as she sucks on a lollipop. His eyes shake and his head follows, backing up slightly despite the confined space and protesting the idea profusely. “Not a chance, Jongseong! This is prostitution, which by the way, is illegal in this country.”

“I know you’re a saint, okay? But desperate times call for desperate measures.” He shrugs, already putting the 20p coins into the slot and picking up the ringer. “You know Jaeyun lost his virginity this way.”

“Yeah, and she was a 43-year-old mother of 6 who fucked him in her garden shed. He said he got the clap from that!” 

Heeseung is not exaggerating, Jaeyun was so determined to ‘gain experience’ that he chose one of these girls from a traffic light pole and what was promised to be a sexy 21-year-old in his area, turned out to be a mum who needed a quick cash grab before her kids got home from school. Needless to say, he went along with it, already mentally prepared for the pop and then a few weeks later by consequence he was in the sexual health clinic getting tested for an STD. He lost his virginity but also his dignity that day.

Exhaling loudly, Jongseong closes his eyes in frustration. “We can phone and ask for an appointment and if she isn’t this very pretty girl that is offering you a ‘spanking good time with a 22-year-old’ then you can bolt for the hills and we’ll find you someone else.” His tone is coated in disapproval at his friend’s unwillingness to give this brilliant idea of his a chance.

Punching in the numbers, Jongseong holds the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, “You want me to talk?”

Realising he is stuck in a boat without a paddle, Heeseung relents, gesturing for Jongseong to take the reigns of the situation; if he were to be the one to speak to the girl, he would probably vomit. This is the complete opposite of how he had dreamed this would go and Jongseong knows it.

The phone begins to ring and Jongseong shushes the other boy as he waits patiently. It gives Heeseung the chance to look at the lewd poster once again and he can see why this one caught Jongseong’s attention over the other tart cards in the booth. The girl is striking and real, not like some of the page 3 models that have clearly been used to lure these desperate men in, there is a prettiness to her, a charm that pulls attention even through a piece of paper.

“Hello, handsome, how can I be of service?”

Her voice, sweet yet sultry, filters through the phone and dances on the glass panels, sending a shiver down Heeseung's spine and making his knees weak. His eyes widen as he gazes at the poster, imagining that captivating voice belonging to the stunning girl. Surely, it couldn't be her, could it? No one could sound and look so perfect simultaneously.

Jongseong scoffs at Heeseung's reaction to a mere female voice and playfully slaps the back of his head, snapping him out of his reverie within the stuffy confines of the phone booth. He clears his throat and addresses the caller on the other end. “Hi, uh,” he glances at the poster, searching for the name, “Y/N, is it?”

You giggle softly over the phone, twirling the cord attached to your landline. “Yes, what can I help you with?”

It’s been a few days since you put up the flyers and there has already been an abundance of calls coming your way; some old guys looking to rub one out before work, others looking to be degraded, and some even just wanting advice on how best to clean their house before their wives come home.

For you, it’s easy money and a needed break from the work you do other than please pervy men. On days you’re not at home, you’re out working behind the bar at Nice N’ Sleazys, picking up after everyone’s mess and pouring pint after pint while the worst music grates at your ears. 

Sex work, despite its numerous downsides, offers a straightforward way to earn money. Initially, you worked in a brothel just outside the main city, where your tips and pride were stolen by the cruel man who ran it. The girls were lovely, and some of your regulars were kind, but the work and pain were too much for the meagre earnings.

So you left and started managing yourself. The owner didn’t like it, but it was your decision. He wasn’t sad to lose you, but rather the money your regulars brought in. However, his displeasure was short-lived when he found your replacement—someone who brought in more money and was willing to do much more than you ever could.

Despite the challenges and dangers managing yourself has provided you with a sense of independence and control that you did not have when working for someone else. You've learned how to deal with the industry's complexities, setting boundaries and putting your own safety first; even if that meant refusing some of your regulars into your new endeavours. 

The line goes silent and you speak up again, “Can I help you?” you ask gently, still keeping the sex worker persona intact. However, once you hear shuffling in the background with hushed whispers, you quickly drop the act and sigh. “Look, if it’s you boys from the school up the road prank calling me again, I will call your mothers.”

With posting your landline in phone booths comes prank calls, you expect it but you could really use the money this week; your fridge is running on empty and your washing machine has somehow blown up on itself - that’s what you get for buying second-hand from a newspaper ad. Maybe you should have picked up that cleaner job for that mansion in the middle of nowhere while you were buying appliances. 

Customers might be regular but you’re just starting, you can’t charge more than you’re worth.

Jongseong flicks Heeseung’s nose, making him yelp. While you are on the other line, Heeseung decides to try and hang up and chicken out but his friend is adamant that he is seeing this through. He doesn’t know how long he can sit and listen to him whining anymore.

“Sorry! No, uh, shit,” Jongseong racks his brain for words that have escaped him, biting his lip as he concentrates on how to perfectly imitate the virgin, “My name is Lee Heeseung. I am a pathetic 22-year-old and need to lose my virginity. I was wondering if you could do me the honours of popping my cherry.”

“I do not talk like that!” Heeseung protests, swatting Jongseongs arm who simply shrugs, unbothered by the offence he is causing the elder. His sole mission is to get Heeseung laid and he is so close to making that happen.

They hear you hum on the other line and immediately stop bickering, staring at the phone as if they can see you through it. “Can I speak to the real Heeseung please?” 

The boy feels sick, head dizzy at the sound of his name coming from your lips but also because Jongseong is thrusting the phone into his face, moving behind him to give him the floor. He hadn’t anticipated speaking to you, just casually observing and listening in to Jongseong sell him off to you. 

“Put on your big boy pants and do this!” Jongseong scolds, eyes darting between Heeseung’s face and the receiver.

Carefully, Heeseung brings it to his ear and closes his eyes, counting to ten in his head before replying. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Heeseung. How are you doing?” you ask softly. This isn’t your first rodeo with a virgin so you know better than to go in all tits blazing and calling him a big boy. 

Nodding as though you can see him, Heeseung purses his lips, trying to muster up some semblance of confidence. “I’m good…how are you?” he asks, his voice wavering slightly despite his efforts to sound assured. The shaky breath he lets out betrays his nerves, and he inwardly cringes, expecting the worst.

On the other end, you can't help but giggle softly. It’s not a titter of mocking, but rather one of endearment. Virgins are the cutest to speak to in your eyes because most of them have no idea how to navigate a conversation like this. There's something charming about their genuine nervousness and innocent curiosity.

Heeseung’s embarrassment deepens as he hears your giggle, imagining all the ways he might be coming off as awkward and inexperienced. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry if I sound nervous,” he stammers, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Your voice remains warm and reassuring, easing some of his anxiety. “That’s okay, Heeseung. Everyone has to start somewhere. I promise, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Your voice is so smooth and lovely that Heeseung instantly relaxes. He is glad that if Jongseong picked any of the workers on the posters beside him, he is glad it was you.

Straightening his posture, Heeseung steadies himself. “My friend is right, I am a virgin and I want to get rid of it. Can you help with that?”

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” you gently remind Heeseung, concern lacing your voice. “Are you sure this is how you want to do it?” You should be arranging a time and place rather than potentially jeopardising your weekly food shop, but if you were in his shoes, you’d want to offer him an escape route, just in case.

But Heeseung seems resolute now, determined to rid himself of the insecurity that has plagued him for so long. “I am. I don’t want to graduate with this hanging over my head.”

Your heart melts a little at his sincerity, and you can’t help but pout. “Okay. Well, one of my regulars...well, let’s just say I’m not seeing him anymore, so I have a free slot tomorrow at 2pm. I usually go to the Point A Hotel near the intersection. Can you make it?”

Heeseung looks to Jongseong with panicked eyes, silently pleading for reassurance. The younger man nods enthusiastically, giving him two thumbs up, mouthing a gentle “Go for it” for extra ease. 

“Yeah, 2pm is fine.” His heart beats rapidly as he accepts your offer, his mouth going dry and his palms sweaty. 

“Amazing. Bring £200-, no, £300 and condoms in your size,” you instruct, changing your regular rate last minute. If he is as inexperienced as he seems, he won't know you’re ripping him off a little. It’s not like you want to but it’s what you have to do. The regular that was in that slot usually paid £500 with tips. However, you will take the comfort of not having him around anymore over bills.

Jongseong’s jaw hits the floor as he hears the price, his gaze glued to the phone but before he can barter for a better deal, the phone goes dead, the five 20ps he slotted in finally running out and leaving them both in silence.

Heeseung’s arm drops to his side, still gripping the receiver as he stares blankly into space. “£300 is all my savings,” he whispers to himself, the weight of the realisation settling heavily on his shoulders. Yet, even as the words leave his mouth, he’s working out how to move his bills around and where the nearest pharmacy is for condoms. 

Stepping out of the booth, Jongseong holds the door open and ushers Heeseung to follow. Heeseung, still lost in thought, obediently steps out, the crisp evening air hitting his face, a welcoming cool to the flush of his skin due to talking to a sex worker for the first time and also the heat of the booth.

Jongseong wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling him in with a gleeful tug. “Now, let's go get you some rubbers. I’m thinking extra small?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jongseong.”

_____

Standing in front of the shabby hotel, Heeseung braces himself for what will come. He should be ecstatic that he is finally on his way to losing his v card, but the dark clouds in the sky, the three buses, and the 30-minute walk to get to the Point A hotel have given him a dreaded sense of doubt.

The once vibrant red bricks of the building are now faded and chipped, with grime clinging to the crevices. The flickering neon sign above the entrance buzzes intermittently, casting a sickly green hue that does little to dispel the gloom. The place reeks of neglect, and a faint smell of dampness hangs in the air, mingling with the odour of stale cigarettes.

Heeseung’s stomach churns as he takes in the dilapidated surroundings. His heart pounds in his chest, and his palms are slick with sweat. Everything about this goes against what he stands for, but he thinks this might be the closest he will get in his young adult life. The last thing he wants is to be a 40-year-old virgin still complaining to Jongseong that numbing his hand and rubbing one out isn’t doing it for him the way it should.

He looks up at the darkened windows, some of them boarded up, others covered in grime. A lone figure stumbles out of the entrance, clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels, and disappears into the grey afternoon, reinforcing Heeseung's trepidation. Of course, the sex worker wasn’t going to ask him to meet in a swanky five-star hotel, but anything had to be better than this.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to steady his nerves. The anticipation that should be filling him with excitement instead gnaws at him with apprehension. His mind races with conflicting thoughts – the desire to finally cross this threshold clashing with the nagging sense that he's settling for something far less than he deserves. The thought of his future self, bitter and frustrated, pushes him forward despite the unease curling in his gut.

He can't let fear dictate his choices any longer; at the end of the day, virginity is a social construct, and women are the greatest gift from God, so there is nothing to be so scared about. Taking another deep breath, he steels himself and steps forward, ready to face whatever lies ahead within the confines of the Point A hotel.

Quickly, he grabs the shutting door and steps inside, his guard raising instantly as he sees the darkness of the foyer. This is the type of place where people mug you for fun rather than necessity. Stained mattresses are leaning against the graffitied walls, the overhead lights are dull, providing little support to Heeseung’s pupils, and the carpet beneath him is sticky, every fibre clinging to the sole of his Air Max trainers.

He takes tentative steps to the front desk, which has been barricaded by crossed steel bars and adorned with a sign reading ‘Police on Speed Dial’. This does little to make him feel any safer. Heeseung’s eyes squint as he gets closer to the desk lamp and sees a middle-aged woman reading the latest issue of the Digger, a local newspaper filled with all the latest and greatest gossip of the town. The last time he read that particular paper was in the doctor's office, and the headline was ‘HE’S ESCAPED’ with a picture of the man who murdered the shopkeeper and police officer up in Brixton.

Shivering, not due to the air conditioning above him, Heeseung knocks on the desk softly and clears his throat, gaining the attention of the relaxed redhead.

“Yeah?” she asks nonchalantly, her eyes flickering up to the scared boy as if he was inconveniencing her by making her do her job. “Single, double, or meeting someone?”

The question throws Heeseung for a loop. He doesn’t know what room you're in or even if you would have given your real name. Surely, you would have created a fake persona when you came here. What if Y/N was the fake name? His pulse quickens as he stammers, trying to find the right words.

"Um, I'm meeting someone," he finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. The woman sighs, clearly unimpressed, and picks up an old, dog-eared ledger from under the desk.

"Name?" she asks, flipping through the pages with a disinterested expression.

Hesitating, Heeseung picks at the skin on his fingers and clears his throat again, a blush rising to his cheeks as he remembers that this is your regular spot, meaning that as soon as he utters your name - if that is the one you gave - then she will know exactly what he is here for. “Y/N. I’m looking for Y/N.”

The receptionist's eyes suddenly trail up and down his body, making him feel as though he is already naked. He is right in his suspicions; she is definitely judging him. Once she finishes examining him, she scowls in disgust and leans back into her chair, placing her feet on the desk as she grabs her paper once more. “Room 1015. And tell her she needs to calm it down with the lube she uses; it’s a bitch to get out of the sheets.”

Heeseung's face burns with embarrassment as he mumbles a quick “thank you” and turns away from the desk. He heads towards the lift, the receptionist’s gaze still sitting in the forefront of his mind, making him even more self-conscious than before. The lift pings open to reveal a tattered metal box, illuminated by a dirty yellow light that only makes the streaks of brown and rust stand out more. Maybe Heeseung should get a tetanus shot after all of this.

He presses the first-floor button with his elbow, careful not to touch anything with his bare skin just in case, and ascends to your room. The buzz from the light and the creak of the old wires holding the elevator make the journey last forever, considering it’s only one floor. But maybe that is also just his nerves. Heeseung's mind races as he stands there, the walls of the lift feeling like they're closing in on him. The air is stale, filled with a faint metallic tang that makes him uneasy.

As the lift jerks to a halt and the doors open, Heeseung steps out into a dimly lit corridor. The wallpaper is peeling, revealing patches of mould beneath. The faint buzz of a flickering light down the hall adds to the eerie atmosphere. Heeseung takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and walks towards room 1015. Each step feels heavier than the last, the worn carpet muffling his footsteps but not the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Pausing before your door, he abruptly pats down his jacket to ensure that he has brought the money and the condoms as per your request. His fingers brush against the crisp bills and the small, foil packets, reassuring him that he hasn’t forgotten anything crucial. The sense of preparedness does little to quell his anxiety, but it’s a small comfort amid his turmoil.

Heeseung breathes out slowly, cracking his neck as though he is bracing himself to fight with Roy Jones Jr. and not a 22-year-old girl who exchanges sex for money; although, he knows which one is scarier at this moment. His knuckles bang on the door lightly and suddenly his mind is reeling a mile a minute, all the questions and doubts he has been tackling within his mind for the past few hours now rushing to him at once. What if you aren’t who you say you are? You could be an old geezer looking to have his way with Heeseung and then toss him out the window with not so much as a thank you. What if this whole thing goes horribly wrong and cums as soon as you touch his cock? He spent last night jerking off and training himself to last just a little longer than usual in an aid to impress you.

Suddenly, there is a lump in his throat and trepidation overcasting the glee of losing his virginity. Something feels wrong, out of place, and his mum always told him to run at the first feeling of danger.

Yet, he doesn’t have another second to turn back and flee the scene because the door is swinging open and revealing-

You. Gorgeous, beautiful - definitely not a creepy old man - you. Heeseung’s jaw almost hits the floor like a cartoon character and his eyes turn to hearts as he takes you in. The baby pink robe you’re wearing with white lace detailing, your hair cascading down one of your shoulders in a soft, bouncy curl, and your lips that are tinted red like glossy maraschino cherries. You look even better than the poster in the phone booth if that was even possible.

His body flushes with heat as he sees your erect nipples poking through the silk, and he feels like he could faint. The sight of you is overwhelming, making his head spin and his heart race even faster. The trepidation that had gripped him moments before is momentarily forgotten, replaced by a rush of desire and nervous anticipation.

You smile warmly at him, a smile that reaches your eyes and seems to melt away some of his fear. "Hi, Heeseung," you say softly, your voice as smooth and inviting as honey. "Come on in."

Heeseung nods, stepping over the threshold and into the room. His movements are awkward and stiff, a stark contrast to your graceful fluidity. The door clicks shut behind him, and the reality of the situation hits him once more. But this time, the sense of wrongness is overshadowed by the sheer presence of you.

You move behind him and drink in the sight of him. If every client looked this good, you might just never complain again - but unfortunately, men like Heeseung come few and far between, like little sprinkles of water amongst oil. He is wearing slightly baggy deep-blue jeans, a white-faded-into-grey Rolling Stones t-shirt, and a red crinkled plaid shirt which is covered by a brown faux-leather jacket. Even his hair is washed and parted down the middle prettily, reaching his rosy cheeks and curving in slightly.

There isn’t a man that has ever looked this fine in your presence, so you’re starting to wonder why on earth he is still a virgin. Then again, he was super nervous on the phone, even making his friend speak for him to begin with - and with the lack of eye contact he is giving you, he clearly doesn’t do well in the presence of a female.

“I didn’t think you would come,” you observe, giggling as he tenses beside you.

Heeseung nods, agreeing with you almost immediately because for a good 2 hours while deciding on whether to wear his favourite boxers or a pair he got from his gran for Christmas, he almost decided to curl himself back into bed and forget you even existed.

The weight of his decision, the culmination of his fears and desires, all come crashing down at once as the silence settles. But standing there, with you smiling at him, he feels a small spark of hope, a glimmer of excitement that maybe, just maybe, this won’t be as terrifying as he’s imagined.

“You look unreal,” he whispers his inner thoughts out loud, causing him to slap his hand over his mouth, eyes shaking at the thought of saying anything at all to you.

His nervousness makes your heart cry, the cuteness trembling from his body is overwhelming, and you find yourself relaxing slightly. Heeseung is a gentle giant, and although he towers over you, he poses no threat at all which you gladly welcome considering what you normally have to deal with in this industry. It’s nice to not have to wonder what on earth a man is planning to do with you because you can’t read him.

Slinking your way towards him, you tuck a section of his soft hair behind his ear, his eyes closing and Adam's apple bobbing at your touch. “I’m as real as they come, baby. Why don’t you relax and give me your coat, hmm?”

As you reach for the brown jacket and try to push it off his shoulders, he flinches and backs away, hugging himself tightly. The sudden movement surprises you, and you quickly pull back, giving him space. His eyes are wide, like a deer caught in headlights, and you can see the internal struggle playing out in his mind. His face is flushed, and there's a mixture of fear and embarrassment etched into his features.

He quickly shakes his head, realising he startled you into a confused pout. “S-sorry! It’s just the money and condoms are in here and I…I think I might still be a little on edge considering this place is…well, it’s creepy as shit.”

Laughing loudly, you do a mix of nodding and shaking your head, puzzled by his reaction but understanding his apprehension of letting just anyone touch his belongings; God knows you’ve been held at knifepoint once or twice around this area. Your laughter, genuine and bright, seems to relax him a bit. 

“That’s okay, Heeseung,” you say, throwing your hands up in a non-threatening gesture in an attempt to ease his tension, which works surprisingly well. You can see his grip on his arms loosen just a bit. “How about you hang it up behind the door?”

Heeseung looks over his shoulder and sees the empty hook, calling out for his slightly battered jacket. Whipping it off, he clenches it in his hands as though he is wringing it of water - probably his sweat - and perks up again, the nerves still evident in his voice. “Do I give you the money now or?”

You smile at his earnestness, understanding his need to follow the process correctly. His vulnerability is endearing, and you feel a protective instinct kicking in. “Normally, I would take the money upfront but since I trust you not to run away, we can sort it out before you go.” It’s a generous offer in Heeseung’s mind, but in yours, you just don’t know whether he is going to make it past touching one of your tits, so it’s better to actually charge him for what you do rather than jumping the gun.

Heeseung’s eyes widen slightly at your trust, and you can see the relief washing over him. He nods vigorously, his movements still somewhat jerky but more controlled now. “Thank you,” he mumbles, his voice soft but sincere. “I appreciate it.”

As he hangs his jacket on the hook, you can see his hands trembling slightly. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady himself. When he turns back to you, there’s a flicker of determination in his eyes, mingled with the lingering nervousness.

Turning around, you are suddenly standing there, your body almost pressed against his. “Come on, sit down for a minute,” you say seductively, code-switching into your sex worker persona with ease. It doesn’t take much, just lowering your voice slightly and hooding your eyes over seems to work for most men, and by Heeseung’s expression and nervous shuffle of his feet, it clearly works for him too.

You reach for his hand, and he instantly flinches, but soon gives way for you to wrap your hands around three of his fingers, slowly guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. His breath hitches as your touch sends shivers down his spine, the warmth of your skin against his sending a jolt of electricity through him.

Heeseung’s heart pounds in his chest as he sits down, the bed sinking slightly under his weight. He can feel the heat of your body radiating against his, your closeness both comforting and intimidating. His mind races with a whirlwind of emotions—fear, desire, anticipation—all swirling together in a dizzying haze.

You sit beside him, your thigh pressing against his, and he can feel the warmth of your skin seeping through the fabric of his trousers. The sensation sends a shiver down his spine, and he can feel his cheeks flushing with heat. He swallows hard, trying to calm the rapid fluttering of his heart. He shifts uncomfortably, his nerves getting the better of him. But your presence is calming, your touch gentle and reassuring.

“Baby, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you assure him, bringing your hand to play with the hairs on the nape of his neck. 

The action causes his body to instantly fold inside itself, melting as you ease him gently into a state of comfort. He hasn’t been touched by a girl in the way you are right now, the closest he’s gotten is a handhold in primary 5 because his friends forced a girl to date him during lunch, so the way your long nails tickle his heated skin only gives his cock a reason to twitch. 

Shaking his head, tensing slightly when he looks into your kind eyes. “No, no, I want to. I’m just not used to talking to girls, or looking at them, or being in the same room as them…” He begins to waffle, talking about everything he has never done with a girl and you find his honesty endearing.

“You haven’t kissed a girl either, have you?” you ask with a hint of amusement. 

“Twice? I think. But they weren’t with tongues,” the shy boy cowards with his confession, scared of being scrutinised by the one person who is supposed to be helping him with all of this. He might just die if you start to point and laugh at him. But to his surprise, you nod understandingly. 

In your world of sex and adultery, it isn’t usually a question. Everyone, especially at twenty-two has probably at least been kissed, but you don’t judge him for not being experienced in even that field. There is a vulnerability and sadness in Heeseung’s eyes that tell you everything you need to know about him; he’s quiet, timid, lacks confidence, and obviously doesn’t venture outside his friend group

You smile reassuringly, your hand still clasping his as you nod in consideration. “It’s okay, Heeseung,” you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. “We’ll take things slow, at your pace. And I promise, there’s no judgment here…I do have to make sure you’re of age though, y’know, caution and all that.”

It’s not that you think he is lying, you just need to be careful with clients like this, particularly virgins because sometimes it can be a boy chancing his arm at a shot to lose his virginity, and you are not catching a case for a few hundred quid. 

Nodding, Heeseung understands what you mean and points to his jacket. “My provisional license is in my chest pocket. The one on the right,” he instructs. He would go get it himself but his legs are boneless with your proximity, so to save him embarrassment, he’ll let you venture for it.

You release his hand with a tender squeeze before walking to the door and reaching for his jacket, your fingers deftly searching through the pocket until you find his provisional license. With a quick glance to confirm his age, you let out a breath of relief. Everything checks out.

He is also super handsome despite the stoic face and reputation that licenses have for making people look ugly, which you think is unfair but don’t comment. Your driver's license looks like you’ve been swallowed by Jabba the Hutt and regurgitated back up, so the envy you are feeling is real right now.

Suppressing the green monster at Heeseung’s flawless appearance, you slip his license back into his pocket and make your way back to him, your movements slow and deliberate. As you draw nearer, you can see the anticipation in his eyes, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of nerves and lust.

Teasingly, you undo the tie of your thin robe, letting it open slightly and revealing a tantalising glimpse of what Heeseung is paying for. The fabric falls away, exposing the curve of your left breast, perfectly formed and enticing.

Heeseung’s eyes widen at the sight, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sight before him. His cheeks flush crimson, and you can see the desire burning in his eyes as he drinks in every inch of your exposed skin. 

This is his first time seeing a boob in the flesh and by God does porn not do it justice. Yours are just what he wants, the perfect size, look, and probably feel; he really needs to thank Jongseong for choosing you for this because he thinks he has hit the jackpot. 

Licking his lips, his eyes trace down to your panties and it instantly makes him squirm in place. They match your robe, a soft baby pink but the main body of them is seethrough, decorated by small pink hearts and a delicate bow on the side. The band of them are a pale rose, popping the colour of your skin beneath them. 

Seeing his reaction boosts your ego and you turn around, letting the silk drop at your feet as you glance back at him playfully, wiggling your bum to show how the panties are actually a thong that sits perfectly between your plump cheeks.

Heeseung doesn’t know where to look, your naked back, your peachy ass, or your beautiful featured face. So he decides what any virgin in his situation would do and looks away, staring at the popcorn ceiling that has leak stains on it.

Giggling, you walk over to him and straddle his lap, flicking your hair to the back to leave your breasts bare and in perfect sight for him to ogle at. Yet, he still doesn’t move. With a playful huff, you cup his face, your false nails scratching behind his ear as you pull him back to look at you.

“You’re going to have to look at me, baby,” you tease, angling his head and your body so his eyes have nowhere to look but your tits. 

They’re even better up close and if Heeseung were any other man, he would be taking your perky nipple into his mouth and starting this session with ease. But he is not any other man, he is a virgin who drools at the sight of any Playboy or Zoo magazines in the windows of shops and then immediately feels guilty because he hates objectifying women in any way shape or form.

He even feels guilty for his cock twitching in his pants every time you call him baby, knowing you’re feeling how it’s practically jumping to be released from its confines and in your grasp.

Sensing his apprehension to make a move, you decide to take the lead slowly by kissing his forehead, your tits hitting his chest as you push further onto him with the movement. “We’ll start by kissing and see where it goes, yeah?”

Your voice is forgiving and reassuring, the pads of your thumbs stroking his cheeks with fondness that only makes him mewl out slightly. You stifle the laugh because you know how humiliated he will feel if you do, not understanding that the cause of your amusement isn’t due to his whining but rather how much you’re enjoying how lost in your touch he is.

Gently, you take his hands and place them on your waist, giving him as much guidance as you can without it becoming demanding. He tenses as he feels your velvety skin, your perfume enveloping him in a mask of florals and vanilla.

"Relax, Heeseung," you say calmly, your voice soothing and encouraging. "We will go as far as you want, and we can stop at any time. Just say the word, okay?

Heeseung nods, meeting your gaze with a mix of anxiety and trust. "Okay," he replies, just above a whisper.

Moving his hands up your back, Heeseung slowly eases into feeling you, gaining confidence with each tender stroke. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. It's a welcome change from the roughness you're used to with your last client in this slot, and you find yourself sinking into the sensation, enjoying the intimacy of a man's touch for the first time in a long time.

It makes you wonder if this is what having a boyfriend would be like.

Heeseung’s eyes haven’t left your breasts, committing every bump of your areola and stretch mark that creates a beautiful symphony of elegant but sexy, each nipple unique in its appearance and direction. There’s nothing better than your boobs at this moment in time; he would pay you the £300 right now if just for one squeeze.

Then it hits him - he could hold them if he wanted to, that’s what he is here to do after all.

Ghosting his fingers up your back, he creates a path for them to cascade from your shoulders to the top of your breast. You feel a surge of anticipation as he gets closer, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body, your cunt starting to drip at the gentle caress.

He stops for a while, contemplating his next move. His eyes look up to yours pleadingly, the virginity shining through his iris’. “Can I?” he asks, seeking permission before delving in.

The act of consent fills you with warmth, and without hesitation, you nod, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. “Anything you want to do, baby,” you assure him, your voice filled with encouragement. 

Heeding your words, Heeseung finally makes his move, his digits whispering to your skin, giving them a tentative rub as he watches the skin melt around him. His thumb strokes over your left nipple, playing with it as if it were a fragile piece of art that he was too scared to break.

For some reason, the act is making you emotional, the way he is so delicately touching you. Never in your career have you seen something so pure and heartwarming. Every other virgin that has called you is just trying to stick it in your hole, never caring about your feelings or comfort.

Lifting his face up, you stare into his eyes with an underlying sparkle of adoration. If you could keep him as a client forever, you would, but you fear that this will be the last and only time with him, so you need to make it count.

You lean in, lips hovering over his petal-like ones and wait there for a moment, a silent ask for consent. It’s only fair considering his decency towards you.

With a nod and a stuttering motion, he presses his lips to yours oh-so-sheepishly. The touch is feather-light, almost tentative, and you can feel his nervousness in the way his lips tremble against yours. Yet there's a sweetness to it, a genuine curiosity and yearning that tugs at your heartstrings.

You respond gently, your lips moving softly against his, guiding him with tender patience. The kiss is slow, unhurried, and as you deepen it slightly, you feel him relax, his hands finding their way to your waist, gripping you a little tighter. His lips part instinctively, and you take the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, eliciting a soft gasp from him.

Heeseung’s reaction is immediate, his body responding to the new sensation with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. You can feel the tension melting away from him, replaced by growing confidence as he starts to explore the kiss with a bit more boldness. His hands roam cautiously, tracing the curve of your hips and the small of your back, his touch still delicate but increasingly assured.

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily. The intimacy of the moment hangs in the air, thick and heady, and you can see the mix of emotions playing out on his face - desire, excitement, and a lingering trace of apprehension.

“You’re doing so well, Heeseung,” you murmur softly, your fingers gently stroking the nape of his neck. “Just let yourself feel, and don’t worry about anything else.”

Heeseung’s eyes glisten with a mixture of gratitude and relief, and he nods, swallowing hard. “Okay,” he whispers, his voice steadier now. “Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me for kissing you?” you giggle, pecking his lips quickly. “How about I give you something to thank me for, to make sure you’re ready, hmm?”

Heeseung’s eyes widen, knowing exactly the act you’re alluding to, and he nods like an excited boy, a grin plastering on his face that exhibits disbelief and glee.

You guide him to lie back on the bed, the soft creak of the mattress punctuating the moment. Heeseung’s body is tense with anticipation, his hands clutching at the sheets as he watches you with a mixture of awe and nervous excitement. You feel a wave of tenderness for him, this young man who is putting his trust in you, hoping you can make this experience as good as he's imagined.

“Just relax,” you purr, your hands trailing down his chest, fingers brushing over his taut muscles that are hiding under his t-shirt. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Slowly, you work your way down his body, your lips planting soft kisses along his chest and lift up the hem of his shirt to pepper some on his stomach. Each touch elicits a small gasp from him, his body reacting to the new sensations with a mix of surprise and pleasure. You can feel his muscles relaxing under your touch, his trust in you growing with each gentle caress. You feel a strange mix of responsibility and pride, wanting to show him just how good it can feel to be touched and cared for.

Reaching the waistband of his jeans, you look up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Is this okay?” you ask, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice barely a whisper. “Please.”

With his consent, you unbutton his trousers and slowly slide them down, his boxers following suit. Heeseung’s erection springs free, his breath hitching as the cool air hits his heated skin. You take a moment to admire him, your fingers tracing delicate patterns along his length, feeling the tension and anticipation coiled within him. There's a sense of reverence in this moment, understanding the weight of trust he has placed in you.

“Just relax,” you repeat, your voice soothing as you wrap your hand around his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. He’s at least 6 inches and girthy, making your pussy clench at the thought of him being inside of you. “It’s a shame you’re not letting girls hit it, your cock is fucking spectacular.”

Heeseung’s face flushes with pride and embarrassment as you lower your head, your breath ghosting over his tip. “Oh, this is really happening…okay….fuck…” he breathes out, face turning red and eyes closing as he braces himself for the first contact. No one’s mouth has come this close to his cock so the feeling is overwhelming to his virgin mind.

You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting in a silent gasp and slowly take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his head, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. His taste is new, unfamiliar, but not unpleasant - almost clean and without the taste of battery acid some of the men you work with have -  and you relish the sounds he makes in response.

Heeseung’s reaction is immediate, his hips bucking slightly as a strangled moan escapes his lips. You place your hands on his hips, holding him steady as you begin to move, your mouth sliding up and down his length in a slow, rhythmic motion. The intimacy of this act, the connection you feel with him, makes your own body respond, a warmth pooling between your thighs.

His fingers dig into the sheets, his knuckles white as he tries to keep himself grounded, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. You can feel the tension building within him, the way his body trembles with each pass of your lips and tongue. You can sense his struggle to remain composed, his vulnerability on full display, and it makes you want to give him everything he needs.

Heeseung is doing everything in his power not to bust a nut right now, holding back as best as he can. He is also trying not to scream out a tiny ‘Yipee’ at the feeling of your tongue swirling the head of his cock. He’s trying to think of anything that isn’t sexy; his gran, Tony Blair, the old milkman that he swore spat in the milk before he delivered it. Yet, nothing is working because you are that fucking good, your mouth is driving him crazy that he genuinely thinks he could go insane.

You increase your pace slightly, your hand joining in to stroke the base of his shaft in time with your movements, and you can tell he’s close. His moans grow louder, his hips straining against your grip as he teeters on the edge of release. The power you hold over him in this moment is intoxicating, yet you wield it with care, wanting his first experience to be unforgettable.

And unforgettable it will be because just as Heeseung is seeing stars, the door swings open, revealing an angry and brute man. His face is red, sweating from the heat outside, his bald spot gleaming in the overhead light from outside, and his beer belly hanging over his two-sizes-too-small jeans, barely covered by the black worn-out t-shirt.

Charging in, he grips your hair, pulling out chunks of it and possibly some of your scalp as he rips your mouth off of Heeseung’s painfully hard cock. You scream in agony, tears pricking your eyes as he drags you around the room like a ragdoll.

Heeseung's euphoria crashes into a pit of dread, his heart pounding in fear as he scrambles to understand what’s happening. The shock freezes him momentarily, but seeing you in pain snaps him into action. He leaps from the bed, his mind racing with panic and the urgent need to help you. 

But he doesn’t know what to do, his hands trembling and stomach tied in knots as he watches the man lift you up by your hair swinging you around as if you are nothing but a paintbrush he is trying to beat dry.

“You little slut!” the man yells, grabbing your throat with his free hand and pushing you against one of the walls. “This is my session, bitch. I pay you to fuck me, not suck off this toothpick!” The grip on your throat tightens with every syllable spat in your face.

You kick your legs in a pathetic attempt to get the man off you, your air cutting off as your face burns red with struggle. You take a good look at the man and realise it’s your client who usually has your 2pm slot, the same man who tried to force himself on you in your last session and ignored your boundaries. It happens sometimes in this job but they don’t typically come back and try to kill you, at least not in your experience.

Girls at your old job warned you about this, sharing detailed encounters with disgruntled punters, but never did you think that you would be confronting one so early on. He used to be a nice guy, tipping well and never being handsy when it was uncalled for, so when he tried to slip it in a hole only reserved for birthdays, you instantly told him to get out and never come back.

Yet, here he is, choking you out in front of a man you barely know, probably terrifying him for the rest of time. He came here to lose his virginity, not gain trauma.

Heeseung's heart pounds with fear and anger. The man’s violent outburst had shattered any lingering nervousness, replacing it with a fierce determination to protect you. His initial shock melts away, leaving only a raw, primal need to help you. He can't let this happen, not after what you've done for him, not to someone who’s shown him such kindness.

His eyes lock onto the lamp on the bedside table, contemplating his next move. He isn’t equipped for this but he has to make sure you’re safe at any cost. You don’t deserve this, no woman does, you provide a service that most men take advantage of - but not him, he won’t let this brute of a man win. 

Apparently, you have the same mentality, your eyes searching the room for any object nearby. Your vision starts to black out, flashes of unconsciousness flickering over your eyes as you see a vase placed close to your right. It’s a stretch, but you reach out to grab it, your arm going limp and legs losing the fight but that determination in your body courses through and creates enough adrenaline to pinch the top of the vase.

With a swift motion, you lazily but forcefully thump him over the head with it. The blow lands with a thickening thud and the vase shatters into pieces, some of it cutting your arms as they ricochet down onto the ground. The grip on your throat eases ever so slightly as the attacker’s eyes roll to the back of his head for a moment, giving you the much-needed chance to breathe.

Heeseung, caught up in planning his own attack, grabs the lamp, the weight feeling solid and reassuring in his hands. He doesn’t think twice as he swings it with all his might, aiming for the man’s head.

“Let her go!” Heeseung screams, his voice cracking but filled with rage. He catches the man again with the base of the metal lamp, this time on his temple, forcing him to stumble back.

You gasp for air, collapsing to the floor as the man’s grip finally releases. Focusing your eyes on his face, you see the life drain from his body, the snarl that once painted his features now relaxing, face paling instantly as you see him wobble before crashing to the ground beside you.

Clinging to yourself out of adrenaline and fear, you cough, still gasping for needed air and that’s when you see it, the blood rushing from the guy’s head, leaking onto the carpet and staining it crimson with every passing second. Heeseung notices the damage just as quickly as you do, eyes widening and his head shaking, adamant that the man can’t be what he thinks he is.

“Oh my god,” Heeseung whispers, his voice trembling with shock. He drops the lamp, the clatter against the floor barely registering in his mind. “Is he... did I...?” He stutters, unable to complete his sentence, the reality of the situation crashing down on him.

You swallow the lump in your throat, adrenaline puppeteering your body to scramble away from the body and stand up, your eyes trained on the man as your body searches for a perch to rest on. The telephone and trinkets clatter to the ground as you lean against the Chester drawers, your heart pounding so loud you swear you can hear sirens.

“We…we need to call an ambulance,” Heeseung mutters, looking between the man and his own murderous hands. He can’t believe he caused this, a man is lying on the floor, gushing blood from his head all because of him.

As soon as the sentence leaves Heeseung’s mouth, your eyes shoot to him in bewilderment, mouth drying up at the thought. “We need to get out of here, Heeseung, we can’t call an ambulance.”

“We can’t just leave him here!” he protests, mirroring your confused expression.

“If an ambulance comes, then the police will, and we are fucked,” you exclaim in a rushed whisper, aware of your surroundings in the thin-walled hotel, not to mention the fact that the door is still wide open for anyone to stumble upon the brutality that has just occurred.

“It was self-defence!” he retorts, pointing to your neck as if punctuating the sentence with evidence.

You tremble, holding your throat and shaking your head, tears brimming in your eyes despite the urge in you to stay strong; you have never once been a crier, and you refuse to start now, not when you need to keep your head in the game and stay focused. “I’m a sex worker, Heeseung! They’ll lock me up in a minute and blame me for everything.”

Your brain betrays you, flashing with what could happen to you if the police even caught a whiff of you being here. It would automatically be your fault, no matter your plea of innocence. The authorities hate you despite most of them using call girls to relieve themselves in ways they won’t let their wives. You can see it now: the media frenzy, the courtroom, the cold, judgmental eyes of the jurors.

Heeseung’s eyes widen with understanding and fear, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “What do we do?” he whispers, desperation lacing his voice. “I can’t go to jail, Y/N, they will eat me alive.” 

Looking at him, you see how scared he is and you suddenly feel remorse over every other emotion that swirls in your body. He might have battered him over the head but it was you who was behind the reason; the boy felt an obligation to help you because he was here and afraid for your wellbeing. There is no way you can leave him to face this alone. It gnaws at you because you knew you should have either moved time or location, your gut telling you to do so only yesterday, but you ignored it, telling yourself that you were overreacting.

“We need to get out of here. Now,” you say with urgency, reaching over the dead weight of a man and grabbing your robe, tying it quickly around your practically naked body. “Grab your stuff, we’ll go down the back stairs, my car is in the worker's lot.”

“Where would we go? They know that we’re here,” Heeseung protests, running his hands through his hair in frustration, grabbing handfuls and tugging harshly as if trying to wake himself up from this nightmare.

Exasperated, you roll your eyes and snatch your bag from the end of the bed. You manoeuvre yourself around the room with desperate urgency, the breaths you are heaving out fueling you to think straight and keep to a plan. It’s pure fear that is driving your body right now, but you don’t fight it. Instead, you let it take you to safety and away from the carnage that you suddenly don't dare to look at.

Seeing you move with immediateness to the door, Heeseung subconsciously follows you like a lost puppy. Unfortunately for him, his fight-or-flight response has a third option: go into a state of haze. He doesn’t know what to do, and the bright idea that caused the mess before him only makes him doubt his mind about the next move, so he’ll follow you for now.

As you glance back at him, you see one slight issue, causing you to halt in your tracks, sparking confusion on his face, those bambi eyes you noticed now in full swing, making your heart flutter in the most awkward of times. Shaking it off, you turn your body and look down. “Uh, Heeseung?”

“What is it? What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asks nervously, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you speak. “You might need your pants,” you explain, opening your eyes and glancing pointedly at his semi-hard cock.

Heeseung’s face flushes a bright red, emulating the shade of a ripe tomato before he nods. His eyes dart around the room, searching for his clothes, only to spot his trousers and pants trapped under the dead man’s body. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of panic through him, his breath hitching in his throat. “Oh no... they’re under him,” he mumbles, his voice tinged with dread.

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself. “You have to move him, just enough to get your clothes. Can you do that?”

“Oh, yeah, just watch me heave up a 300-pound man off my Levis. Look at me, Y/N, I’m hardly a fucking gym rat.” The deflation and anguish in his voice are palpable as he walks around to the side where his jeans lie trapped.

You know he doesn’t mean to be rude to you, that it’s the fear talking, but you do miss when he was shy and couldn’t even form a coherent sentence without stuttering. At least then he wasn’t semi-shouting at you.

“Okay, okay,” you say softly, trying to calm him down. “We’ll do it together. I’ll help you.” You crouch down beside him, the closeness of the dead man making your stomach churn, but you push through it. You have to.

Heeseung’s hands are shaking as he reaches out, his fingers trembling as they touch the dead man’s shoulder. You can see the revulsion in his eyes, the sheer disbelief that he’s in this situation. With a deep breath, he steels himself, looking at you for reassurance.

“We can do this,” you say firmly, giving him a small nod. “On three, okay? One, two, three.”

Together, you heave, your muscles straining as you push the heavy, lifeless body just enough to free Heeseung’s clothes. The man’s weight is immense, and it takes every ounce of strength you both have. The dead weight shifts slightly, and Heeseung quickly grabs his trousers and pants, pulling them free with a grunt.

“Got them,” he says, his voice a mix of relief and horror as he scrambles to his feet, stepping away from the body as quickly as he can.

You stand up as well, wiping your hands on your robe, trying to rid yourself of the feeling of death that clings to your skin. “Hurry, put them on. We need to get out of here.”

Heeseung nods, his movements hurried and shaky as he pulls on his trousers and pants. The adrenaline pumping through his veins makes him fumble with the buttons, his hands still trembling. You watch him, your heart pounding in your chest, willing him to move faster.

Once he's dressed, you hastily grab his hand, pulling him out of the room and leading him to the backstairs, aiming for your trusty old Austin Metro. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, the adrenaline of fear coursing through your veins. How could this happen to you? You were just trying to live your life and make some money, not become an accomplice to murder.

Heeseung's thoughts mirror yours, his mind reeling at the sudden turn of events. All he wanted was to lose his virginity, not become entangled in a murder. As his feet scurry behind yours on the stone steps of the hotel, he realises there's no way out of this. There's no one to save him; this experience has irrevocably altered his life, but not in the way he ever imagined.

He walked into that room as a virgin, but now he's leaving as a murderer.

taglist (closed): @yzzyhee @intromortal @zerobaseone-zhanghao @hooniehon @deobitifull @alvojake @sageryuri @slut4hee @binniesbabe @vveebee @minniejenseo @jebetwo @seunghancore @laurradoesloveu @yongbokified @jaehoonii @jaeyunluvr @melonvrs @criminalyun @enhastolemyheart @fakeuwus @flwrhoes @rayofsunshineeee @moonlighthoon @jaehyuniewifeu @en-ternals @haechonly @got-sunghooned @brownsugarbaybee @heeseungspookie @sunpov @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan

[snoopyracing]

wanna be yours 2.0 // ln4 social media au // part three

part one | part two

pairing: lando norris X american!reader / mclaren photographer!reader and slight pato o'ward X reader

warnings: swearing

summary: a remix of my fic wanna be yours in social media au form. or basically lando and the reader both being in love with each other but being too stubborn and scared to say anything so they suffer in silence until one finally crumbles.

contains: best friends to slight strangers to lovers, pining, angst, jealous!lando, asshole!lando, clueless!lando, and perhaps a little lando or pato? situation.

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

may 26th, 2024

liked by y/bsf, patriciooward, landonorris and 98,520 others

y/n.jpg: something about an empty track the morning of a race (yes i was here so early that i got to watch the sunrise)

patriciooward: did you sleep at the track lol??

↳ y/n.jpg: no... but the gates may have still been locked when i got here. 🧍‍♀️

mclaren: missing you this weekend! -liked by author

user1: girl.... we saw that pic from last night...

user3: i'm feeding my delusions by thinking that lando is on the mclaren account commenting

user7: lando in the likes once again...god please let him comment again soon.

liked by patriciooward, arrowmclaren, y/bsf and 105,321 others

y/n.jpg: so incredibly proud of you today pato!!! you gave it your all and left everything out on that track. so happy i was able to come back and spend this week with the whole arrow mclaren family. always a special week and one i've missed immensely. next year is yours pato. ❤️

patriciooward: it was a bittersweet day. would have loved to win, but loved having you here this year. gracias mi amor. -liked by author

arrowmclaren: so nice to have you back y/n! you know you're always welcome!! -liked by author

landonorris: @.patriciooward you killed it out there today man. you should be proud.

↳ patriciooward: thanks lando!

user4: um lando in the comments... and commenting to pato... maybe war is over

user3: if pato and y/n don't end up together i'm gonna lose my shit

user9: still team lando y/n

may 27th, 2024

may 28th, 2024

y/n.jpg added to their story

y/bsf replied to your story

↳ girl.... is this lando??? i saw that tweet from the gossip page

may 29th, 2024

liked by landonorris, y/bsf, logansargeant and 285,650 others

y/n.jpg: the love of my life (everyone act normal please)

landonorris: the first pic.... you're lucky i love you

↳ y/n.jpg: it's a cute pic 🤭

y/bsf: FINALLY!!!!!!!

↳ y/n.jpg: did i not say to act normal?

logansargeant: oh thank god... i couldn't stand his moodiness anymore.

↳ landonorris: i was not moody 😐

↳ oscarpiastri: yes you were

user2: Y/N LANDO TRUTHERS WE WON!!!!

user4: pato and y/n :(

user9: there is no way to be normal about this.

liked by y/n.jpg, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 900,402 others

landonorris: the love of my life, my baby, my world, my everything.

y/n.jpg: i love you so much 🩷

maxfewtrell: thank god. didn't think you two were ever going to get together.

↳ landonorris: well sorry mate. guess we all don't have the charisma that you do.

↳ y/n.jpg: max and charisma do not belong in the same sentence

↳ maxfewtrell: 🤨

oscarpiastri: so happy for you guys! -liked by author

user4: this actually made my year.

user7: when does this get to happen to me?? i need me a man that's so down bad like lando.

user1: how did he bag a baddie like y/n? can you fight lando norris?

tag list: @daisyfreecs @mel164 @hurtblossom @the-untamed-soul @ameliaalvarez06 @ahnneyong @landotd @spideylovin @wobblymug @vizzzashley @urfavsgf @lunamelona @sunflowervol18 @kiwi43-81 @horneybeach1 @czennieszn @dontworryboutitokie @weekendlusting @deamus-liv @lexiecamposv @nikki1dxx @eggingamazinglove @folklorelover888 @hashcakes @sarx164 @misspygmypie @ziraelmtd @sarah-thatstings-ann @gnarlycore @plotpal @formulaal @tremendousstarlighttragedy @saachiep81 @alana4610 @kissesandmartinis @green--beanie @moodymoony71 @tvdtw4ever @lottalove4evelyn

[mononijikayu]

delicate — geto suguru.

Suguru glared at Gojo. “I’m not concerned, I just—” “Uh–uhuh, keep talking.” “I’m just some friend—acquaintance. Worried.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Satoru. I don’t know what you’re going on about. If I'm in love with them, shoot me.” Without missing a beat, Gojo grinned, “Bang.” He made a playful gun gesture with his hand and gave Suguru a wide grin. “Cupid’s bullets confirm!”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance,, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Profanity, Mention of Fighting, Mention of Bruising, Outcast! Geto Suguru, Popular Cheerleader!Reader;

WORDS: 6.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i made this while thinking about what dynamic i wanted to see between cute couples. and here we are. this was supposed to be shorter too, but it ended up way way longer than 4k words. but im satisfied with this. i hope you enjoy!!! i love you all <3

ADDENDUM: i just found out gege akutami said jjk ends in five chapters and i just want to say that this is going to be hard for me since ive been a fan since 2019.

but i will say ill continue to write as much as i can for this story, enjoy the anime with you for years to come. im sad of course, but im thankful. im grateful for gege akutami for letting me meet his lovely story and his bountiful characters.

and of course because of him, i met all of you. i am very grateful. from beginning to end. i am crying but i am happy too. i love jjk a lot you guys. hugs and kisses to manga fans everywhere. lets hope for a happy end to the story we have loved 🥹🫶

main masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 900;

if you want to, tip! <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌌*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

YOU WEREN’T LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. You were the it-girl, so sought after. The shining star. You were the girl everyone wanted to be—effortlessly beautiful, charming, and the center of attention at Jujutsu College. As a cheerleader, you had it all: the admiration of your peers, the envy of others, and the kind of popularity that opened every door.

Everywhere you went, eyes followed. Whispers trailed in your wake, a symphony of awe and envy that only fueled your rise to the top. You were untouchable, your smile a weapon, your presence a force. Parties, events, and the campus buzzed with your name. Everyone wanted to be near you, to bask in the glow of your effortless charisma. But all of that came crashing down when you chose to stand up for what you believed was right.

The whispers got worse the moment they took to the locker room. One of the newer cheerleaders, a girl named Emi, was their target—shy, awkward, and an easy mark for their cruelty. You watched it unfold for days, biting your tongue, hoping it would stop. They were the same, the seniors who already graduated. You let them do it then, because you hoped they’d stop like the seniors did. But they did not. Instead, it went too far.

You looked at them for a moment, trying not to be obvious. This was going too far. The girl was about to cry, maybe she’d even get even more hurt. This is enough. You cannot stay and just stay silent anymore. Maybe it was the memory of your own first days on the squad, when you weren’t yet the queen bee, when you still had something to prove. Or maybe it was just a sense of fairness that you couldn’t ignore. But you knew that this had to stop. This has to end.

"God, Emi, you can’t even get a basic cheer right. Why are you even here?" one of the girls sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

Emi stood frozen, her eyes welling up with tears. The other cheerleaders laughed, egging each other on, pushing her closer to the edge. You bit your lip, closing your locker with a loud bang, causing everyone to look at you. You could feel Emi’s eyes on you too, shaking with fear as tears fell from her cheeks. 

“Leave her alone, you freaks!” you said, your voice sharp as you stepped forward. “That is enough. She doesn’t deserve this. You’ve gone too far, even more than our seniors!”

They turned to you, surprise flickering across their faces before it morphed into mockery. You moved forward to the captain, eyes narrowed as you glared at her. You shook your head at her. “Just leave her alone. She’s a freshman. She doesn’t need your shit.”

“What, are you her knight in shining armor now?” one of the lackeys taunted, crossing her arms. “You’re supposed to be on our side, aren’t you? This is a tradition for us seniors.”

“I’m on the side that’s not full of bullies.” you shot back, your anger boiling over. “Being bullied doesn’t mean you should be one!”

“What’s your problem?” another girl snapped, stepping closer, her tone threatening. “She’s dead weight, and you know it.”

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your temper in check. “My problem is that you’re all acting like a bunch of jerks. If you can’t see that, then maybe you’re the dead weight.”

The tension in the room exploded like a storm that had been brewing for too long. You could feel it in the way the air seemed to thicken, in the way eyes narrowed and lips curled into sneers. It started with a harsh word—one of those sly, cutting remarks that slid under the skin like a blade. But this time, you couldn’t let it slide. Not when it was aimed at Emi, the quiet girl who had been on the receiving end of too many of those slights.

You were on your feet before you even realized it, the words spilling out of you in a rush of anger and defiance. “What’s your problem? Why do you always have to pick on someone who’s done nothing to you?”

Your voice cut through the chatter, silencing the room. The others stared at you, shocked that you—of all people—would dare to break ranks. The lead cheerleader, the queen bee, glared at you, her eyes narrowed into slits. “What, are you her bodyguard now? Don’t act like you’re better than us.”

It was the spark that lit the fire. The room erupted into chaos as insults were hurled back and forth. You didn’t back down, not when they turned their barbs on you, not when they sneered at Emi. It all escalated so fast—too fast. Suddenly, hands were shoving, nails were scratching, and before you knew it, you were in the middle of a full-blown fight.

You could barely make sense of it all. The adrenaline surged through you, drowning out the pain as someone’s fist connected with your cheek, leaving a nasty bruise that would bloom later. All you could think about was protecting Emi, keeping her out of the fray, even as the world around you descended into chaos.

The chaos only ended when the coaches rushed in, their voices booming as they waded into the mess of tangled limbs and flaring tempers. They pulled you all apart, demanding to know what had happened, their faces a mix of shock and anger.

But it was too late—the damage was done. You could see it in their eyes, the way they looked at you now, like you were the problem. The principal was called in, and you found yourself standing in his office, staring at the floor as he lectured you about school spirit and the responsibilities that came with your position.

Your words fell on deaf ears. They didn’t want to hear about the bullying, about how you were just trying to protect Emi. All they saw was the fight, the disruption, and the girl who had gone from golden to tarnished in a matter of minutes.

When you returned to the locker room, it was like a slap in the face. Your things had been removed from your team locker, stuffed unceremoniously into a bag and left on the floor. You were no longer welcome. The cheerleaders, the same girls who had once been your closest friends, looked at you with cold eyes and turned their backs.

You had wanted to protect Emi, and now you were left with a throbbing bruise, a reprimand from the principal, and a cold emptiness where your friends used to be. But even as you walked out of that locker room, head held high despite everything, you knew you’d do it all over again. Because some things were worth fighting for, even if it meant losing everything else.

The next day, you found yourself officially kicked off the squad. Well, Emi was also kicked out too, but you were glad that she wasn’t at all hurt. That was what mattered. The news spread like wildfire, and the people who once idolized you now whispered behind your back. Your world felt like it was crumbling, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the biggest mistake of your life.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting alone outside, trying to process everything that had happened. Emi had repeatedly apologized to you today, but you kept waving her off and told her to stay safe around school. It wasn’t really her fault. Maybe if you had acted much earlier, maybe Emi wouldn’t have had to go through the worst. Perhaps this was your punishment. This was what happened because of your inaction. And you feel like you deserve this. You deserve to be punished like this. You could only sigh.

That’s when you heard someone approaching.

“You know, I always thought cheerleaders were supposed to be a tight-knit group.” a voice drawled. 

You looked up to see Gojo Satoru standing there, hands in his pockets, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Guess I was wrong, huh?”

“Guess so.” you muttered, feeling the sting of his words even though they weren’t meant to hurt. “I’m sorry, have I met you before?”

“I don’t think so.” He says, removing his round sunglasses. “Have we met before too?”

“Don’t think so.” You admitted also, face scrunching in confusion. “I don’t meddle around with unpopular kids.”

“Hey, hey, I’m not unpopular.”

“Then why have I never heard of your name before?” You raised your brow.

“I don’t know, maybe you were too focused on being a cheerleader and me being a Digimon stan?” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd!” You clapped your hands together. “That makes sense why I haven’t heard about you.”

He sighed. “You cheerleaders are cut throats, aren’t you?”

“I’m an ex–cheerleader now. Not really much of a cheerleader anymore.” You snickered. “Those pom pom waving mean girls, goodbye them!”

He plopped down next to you, stretching out his long legs. “So, what’s the plan now? Are you gonna go all lone wolf, or are you open to a new company?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why do you care?”

Gojo shrugged, his smile widening. “Because I’m curious about the girl who went from queen bee to outcast in one day. That takes guts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out a little bitter. “Or stupidity.”

“Or both, you know?” he agreed easily. “But I like guts. So does Shoko. And Suguru. And Kento and Haibara. You’d fit right in with us.”

“Fit in?” you echoed, not sure if he was being serious. Your face reminded Satoru of how Kento reacted to him asking to be his friend. 

“Yeah.” he said, leaning back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “We’re not exactly the most popular kids on campus, but we’re fun. And we don’t care about that petty stuff.”

Before you could respond, Shoko Ieiri appeared, hands stuffed in her lab coat pockets, a cigarette dangling from her lips. “You’re not bothering her, are you, Gojo?”

“Me? Bother someone? Never, Sho.” Gojo said, feigning innocence. “Just making a new friend.”

Shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you. “He’s right, though. You’re welcome to hang with us if you want.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shoko said with a lazy grin. “We don’t bite. Well, maybe Gojo does, but only if you ask nicely.”

You laughed again, this time more genuinely. “Okay… I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

As the days passed, you found yourself drifting away from the cheerleaders and into a new circle. It started subtly at first, with Gojo casually inviting you to sit with him and Shoko during lunch. Gojo’s easygoing nature made it hard to say no, and Shoko’s dry humor quickly drew you in. 

They didn’t seem to care about the drama that had turned your life upside down. Gojo’s bright grin and carefree attitude were a stark contrast to the cold shoulders you’d been getting from your former friends. Shoko, with her sharp wit and laid-back demeanor, offered a kind of friendship that felt refreshing, real in a way that the cheerleading squad never had.

Soon, Geto Suguru and Nanami Kento joined in. Suguru had a quiet confidence about him, a steady presence that was both comforting and intriguing. He didn’t ask about the fight or why you weren’t with the cheerleaders anymore. Instead, he offered a warm smile and an understanding nod, as if he knew without needing to be told.

Nanami, on the other hand, was more reserved. He didn’t speak much at first, but his presence was reassuring. There was a steadiness to him, a sense of reliability that you hadn’t realized you craved. He welcomed you into their group with a subtle nod, a small but genuine gesture that told you he saw you for who you were now, not who you had been before.

Each of them, in their own way, made room for you. They didn’t treat you like the fallen star or the girl with the tarnished reputation. With them, you didn’t have to pretend. You could be yourself—no masks, no expectations.And slowly, you began to feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time: belonging.

That afternoon, all of you were sitting together under a tree on campus, watching the world go by. Geto Suguru was in the middle of explaining something, his voice calm and soothing, while Nanami listened quietly, offering his thoughts every now and then. Yu was more excited trying to make friends with you than before. You think it's interesting, how this ball of sunshine saw you as some sort of superhero for what you did, even if you didn’t.

Yu Haibara, ever the sunshine in human form, plopped down beside you with a grin. “Hey, I heard about what happened with the cheer squad. Pretty badass, if you ask me.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing, but…”

“It was! You’re so cool, you know?” Haibara said firmly. “Standing up for someone who needed it? That’s always the right thing.”

“Besides, it’s just what it is, you know?” Geto added, looking over at you. He was smoking his cigarette roll, one he made himself. “You don’t have to be what you aren’t.”

“Yeah.” Nanami agreed, his voice steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not with us.”

You looked around at them—this group of people who had taken you in without hesitation, who saw you for who you really were, not just the image you had projected for so long. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the weeks went by, you found a surprising sense of belonging with Gojo, Shoko, Suguru, Nanami, and Yu. They had become your new circle of friends, and their acceptance gave you a fresh start that you didn’t know you needed. They were a new sort of fun, a different kind of excitement that was worlds apart from the polished, high-pressure life you’d known as the it-girl.

With them, your days became filled with spontaneous adventures. Gojo was always dragging everyone to the arcade, where his competitive streak made every game feel like a high-stakes challenge. Shoko would roll her eyes at his antics but still join in, her laughter adding to the cacophony of beeping machines and cheerful music. Suguru, ever the cool-headed one, had a knack for choosing the perfect music stores to visit, introducing you to tracks that soon became the soundtrack to this new chapter of your life.

Nanami and Suguru were more reserved, especially at first. You could tell they were still feeling you out, trying to figure out if you really fit into their group. But even in their uncertainty, they made an effort. Nanami, despite his serious demeanor, would show up at the burger joints Gojo loved, quietly indulging in the greasy food and ridiculous banter. Suguru, with his calm presence, would often give you a slight smile or a nod, a small but significant sign that you were being welcomed, even if it was cautiously.

Yu was the glue that held it all together, his infectious energy and boundless enthusiasm pulling everyone along. Satoru was as enthusiastic as he was, but unlike him — Yu was someone that tried to keep everyone in good peace together. And he was good. He had a way of making you feel included, whether it was by handing you a spare controller at the arcade or making sure you got the best seat at the burger joint.

That’s just how it was with them. You didn’t have to worry about the petty dramas or the constant pressure to be perfect. With this group, it was all about the moment—the thrill of a high score, the taste of a greasy burger, the discovery of a new song. And you liked it. You liked who you were becoming with them.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, tossing a sugar packet from one hand to the other. “You know, you fit in with us better than you did with that cheer squad.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Are you saying I was too good for them?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Stop teasing, Gojo. You’re ruining the vibe.”

“Hey, I’m not!” Gojo argues as  his grin spreads, “Just that our new friend here is way cooler than they ever gave them credit for.”

You looked at Shoko, who was sipping her coffee with a look of amused tolerance, added, “He’s right. They were just too busy with their drama to see how awesome you are.”

Suguru, sitting across from you, offered a more thoughtful observation. He bit into his fries. “Sometimes, it takes getting knocked down to realize where you truly belong. You were always meant to be with people who appreciate you for who you are.”

Nanami, who had been quietly observing, nodded in agreement. “You’re a good blend with us, I think. We’ve had a lot of fun since you joined us.”

Yu Haibara, always the optimist, leaned in with a grin. “Yeah, and you’ve made things a lot more interesting around here. It’s not every day we get someone with your… spirit.”

You smiled, feeling a warm flush of gratitude. “Thanks, guys. I wasn’t sure where I’d fit in after everything that happened, but I really appreciate how welcoming you’ve all been.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. It was a refreshing change from the pressure and pretense of your previous life. 

As the night wore on, Gojo suddenly stood up and stretched. “Hey, who’s up for a late-night walk? I heard there’s a new food truck downtown.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “You just want an excuse to get more snacks.”

“Guilty as charged.” Gojo admitted with a wink. “But you’re all welcome to join if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds good to me.” Suguru said, standing up and grabbing his coat. 

You looked around at your friends, feeling a genuine sense of contentment. “I’m in.”

“You feeling cold?” Suguru asked as he saw you stand from the booth. 

“A little—” He threw you his jacket, which you were barely able to catch.

“Put it on.”

“O–oh, okay.”

As you all walked together through the city streets, the cool night air filled with laughter and conversation, you realized how different this life felt from the one you had left behind. There were no superficial judgments, no hidden agendas—just a group of people who valued each other’s company and had each other’s backs.

Later, as you shared food and stories under the streetlights, you found yourself in a moment of quiet reflection. You had come so far from the popular girl who had been kicked out of the cheer squad. You were no longer defined by your past status or the mistakes you’d made. Instead, you were part of a new chapter, one where you were valued for who you truly were.

Gojo’s laughter broke through your thoughts as he tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it with a grin. “See? This is what life’s about—good friends, good food, and not taking things too seriously.”

You laughed, feeling the weight of the past lift off your shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more.”

In that moment, you knew that despite everything you had been through, you had found something real and genuine. And as you walked beside your new friends, you felt a renewed sense of hope for the future, knowing that wherever life took you next, you would face it with people who truly cared about you.

But in that moment, Geto Suguru looked at you and thought to himself for a moment, just for that moment — how good happiness looks on you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌌*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, HE’S NOT ONE TO TRUST PEOPLE EASILY. But coming from a rough place in life, it was something that can’t be helped. So, in the beginning, Geto Suguru had his reservations about you. He’d heard the rumors about the cheerleader who had once been the queen of Jujutsu College, and he wasn’t impressed. To him, you seemed like just another snob who was used to getting their way and couldn’t be bothered with anyone outside her circle.

When Gojo tried to blend you into the group, Suguru’s attitude was guarded, and for a good reason. So, he kept his distance and even interacted with you, he tried to be casual, trying to not get too deep into it.

He remembers what he said then — “I’m not really into the whole ‘cheerleader’ thing,” he’d said with a shrug. “Not my style. So they're still not my style either.”

You had sensed his cold demeanor but tried not to let it bother you. Instead, you focused on being yourself—friendly, outgoing, and always ready to lend a hand. You wanted to prove that you weren’t just the image people had of you. Even though you could still be rough in the edges with your personality, it didn’t stop people from enjoying your company. 

And over time, Geto Suguru began to see a different side of you. You didn’t just laugh at his jokes or offer superficial compliments, nor were you as stuck up as people make you out to be; you were genuinely kind and considerate. You had a really good way of making others feel comfortable, and it wasn’t long before he found himself intrigued by the real you, the one who went out of their way to help others despite their own struggles.

One evening, as the group hung out at a quiet park, you were sitting on the grass, talking animatedly about a new project you were excited about. If he was being honest, excitement was a beautiful color on you. And he thinks that he wants to see more of that in you. He could only sigh as he thought about how much you’ve occupied his mind. He shakes his head. Suguru looks above the sky, trying to distract himself while Satoru spoke to everyone about his new date. 

“You know, Suguru.” you said, glancing over at him, snapping him back to reality. “I really appreciate how you’ve been around lately. And how not awkward it is between us now. It means a lot to me.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “I’m just here because Gojo dragged me along. Don’t get any ideas.”

You laughed, unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be. I guess we’re not so different after all.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe. But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here because I have to be.”

Despite his words, you noticed subtle changes in his behavior. He was more engaged in conversations around you, his smiles more frequent, and he’d even started teasing you back. You found yourself drawn to him more and more, your feelings shifting from admiration to something deeper. The way he would look at you, even with his usual aloofness, made your heart race. 

After a particularly lively conversation about your favorite books, Suguru caught you off guard with a rare moment of vulnerability. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. 

“You’re really persistent, you know that?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but you’ve managed to get under my skin.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of hope. “Is that a good thing?”

Suguru looked away, his expression turning more serious. “I’m not sure. I told myself I’d just tolerate you, but… the more I hang around, the harder it is to keep my distance.”

He was fighting it, trying to convince himself that his growing feelings for you were nothing more than an annoyance. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” he continued, frustration evident in his voice. “But I’m not someone who easily changes his mind. So don’t expect too much.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you, a clear sign that he was fighting a losing battle. The more you interacted, the more he found himself charmed by your genuine warmth and infectious enthusiasm. And he didn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know how to react to you.

You were infatuated with him, and it became clear that you wanted his attention—more than just casual conversation, more than friendly banter. You wanted to be the one who made him smile, the one he thought about when he was alone.

And though Suguru tried to keep his distance, you could see the cracks in his resolve. His stoic exterior was melting away, little by little, with every shared laugh, every meaningful conversation. He couldn’t deny the way he felt any longer, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

In moments of quiet, when it was just the two of you, Geto Suguru’s demeanor softened. He would catch himself gazing at you with an expression that betrayed his irritation with his own feelings. He was torn between his desire to remain aloof and the undeniable pull he felt towards you. As you continued to be your bubbly, charming self, Suguru found himself drawn to you more and more, fighting a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to win.

The house party was in full swing by the time you and your friends arrived. The sorority house was buzzing with energy, and the crowd was a mix of familiar faces and new ones. You were excited to be there, especially because you had a date with you—Mark, a guy you had been seeing for a few weeks. 

Suguru Geto, always the reserved observer, was there too, though he seemed more detached from the festivities. He had taken a spot near the snack table, his gaze scanning the room. When he noticed you with Mark, he gave a curt nod but didn’t say much.

As the night progressed, Suguru found himself cornered by Mark, who was chatting animatedly with a group of people. You had gone off to mingle with others, leaving Mark to his own devices. Suguru, being the stand-up guy he was, decided to introduce himself.

“Hey, I’m Suguru.” he said, offering a polite smile. “So, what’s your story, bro?”

Mark took a swig of his drink and grinned. “Oh, I’m just here to have a good time, mess around, party hard. You know how it is.”

Suguru nodded, trying to make conversation. “Yeah, I get it. So, how long have you and my friend been seeing each other?”

Mark’s smile faltered slightly. “A few weeks. But, honestly, they're kind of a handful.”

Suguru’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone neutral. “Oh? How so?”

Mark shrugged, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. “They’re always so cheerful and in-your-face. It gets old pretty fast. And don’t get me started on their mood swings. Sometimes they’re all sunshine and other times, they’re just… exhausting.”

Suguru’s smile faltered, and he could feel a simmering anger rising. “I wouldn’t say that. They’re actually really kind and caring. Maybe they’re just passionate around you.”

Mark snorted. “Passionate? More like over–dramatic. You must be used to it, though, considering you hang out with them.”

Suguru’s jaw tightened. “I think you should stop talking about them like that.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. “Why? It’s the truth. You know, they could be a lot better if they just… toned it down a bit.”

Suguru’s eyes darkened as he took a deep breath. “Seriously, stop it.”

Mark continued, oblivious to Suguru’s mounting frustration. “They’re always making everything about themselves, always trying to be the center of attention. I don’t get why you’d even bother with them. They’re literally like….a bitch..”

Without warning, Suguru’s hand tightened around his beer bottle. He took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. “I said, stop.”

The tension in the room was thick, a simmering undercurrent that everyone felt but no one acknowledged—until Mark pushed too far. He had been needling Suguru all night, his criticisms growing more pointed, more personal with each passing minute. The rest of you tried to steer the conversation away, but Mark wouldn’t let it go, his words becoming sharper, crueler.

Suguru had been holding back, his calm facade cracking only slightly as he tried to keep his temper in check. But when Mark ignored him and continued with his relentless criticisms, something inside Suguru snapped.

In an instant, he moved. With a swift, fluid motion, Suguru swung his beer bottle, the action so smooth it was almost graceful. The bottle connected with Mark’s face with a sharp crack. The impact was immediate and satisfying, sending Mark stumbling backward as beer splashed across the floor, the bottle shattering in Suguru’s hand.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Goddamn it, Suguru!” Shoko’s voice was the first to break the quiet, a mix of shock and exasperation. She stepped forward, ready to pull Suguru back if needed, though there was a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Couldn’t you have at least waited until he finished his drink?”

Nanami, who had been lounging in the corner, raised an eyebrow but didn’t move from his spot. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Shoko sighed deeply, looking around. “I’ll call someone to clean this up. And maybe get some ice for Mark.”

Mark, clutching his face where Suguru had punched him, looked up in stunned disbelief. “What the hell, man? You’re crazy!”

Suguru’s eyes were cold as he glared down at him. “No. I’m done listening to your crap. You should’ve known when to shut up.”

“You all are a bunch of crazy freaks! Especially that bitch!”

“You don’t get to talk about them like that!” Suguru said, his voice steady but filled with a cold edge. “Not on my watch.”

Mark looked up at him, a mix of pain and surprise in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just backed away slowly, still holding his nose. Yu came between them. “Hey, hey. Let’s all calm down, okay?”

Suguru turned on his heel and walked away, heading outside to cool down. He needed some fresh air and space to collect his thoughts. You, having witnessed the altercation from a distance, rushed over to Suguru, concern etched on your face.

You spotted Suguru standing alone in the hallway, his gaze distant as he tried to calm down from the confrontation. Determined to get some answers, you made a beeline for him, your concern and curiosity palpable.

“Suguru, what happened back there?” you asked, trying to piece together the events of the night. “Why did you hit Mark?”

Suguru glanced at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “It was nothing. He just… he crossed a line.”

“No,” you said, putting the pieces together with a sudden burst of realization. “He called me a bitch, didn’t he? That’s why you hit him. You hit him for me!”

Suguru looked away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “No, that’s not—”

“Yes, it is!” you interrupted, your excitement and relief bubbling over. “I know I can be a lot sometimes, and I am a bitch! But you actually care about me. You love me, don’t you?”

Suguru’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he mumbled, “No…I didn’t…”

Suguru’s thoughts were still a whirlwind, his mind racing to process the events of the night and the emotions that came with them. He needed to clear his head, and talking to Gojo seemed like the quickest way to do that. He excused himself and quickly went back inside. As he entered the kitchen, the room was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—bright, warm, and filled with the comforting aroma of Gojo Satoru’s sandwich-making.

Gojo stood by the counter, casually assembling a towering sandwich with practiced ease. His movements were relaxed and carefree, a stark contrast to the tension that Suguru was radiating. He glanced up, taking in the scene with a curious, slightly amused expression.

“What’s going on, man?” Gojo asked, his tone light as he continued to layer on the ingredients. “I heard there was a bit of a commotion.”

Suguru tried to compose himself, but the frustration was evident in his voice. “Mark was being a complete jerk. He was bad-mouthing them, and I… I lost my temper.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “He was talking about them? What did he say?”

Suguru’s jaw clenched as he recounted the encounter. “He kept going on about how they are a handful and how they’re exhausting. He was just being really disrespectful. Even called them a bitch, mind you!”

Gojo’s eyebrows knitted together in surprise. “And you punched him for it?”

Suguru nodded, his gaze intense. “Yeah, I did. He wouldn’t stop, and I just couldn’t let him keep talking like that.”

Gojo’s expression shifted from amusement to genuine concern. “Are they okay?”

Suguru’s frustration softened a bit as he considered your well-being. “They’re fine. I mean, they did seem surprised, maybe in some way upset, I don’t know. But they’re okay. It’s just… I don’t like seeing them being talked about like that.”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and understanding. “So, you’re defending them, huh?”

Suguru’s face flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not just about defending them. It’s just—”

Gojo looked up from his sandwich-making with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, but is your lover okay?”

Suguru froze, caught off guard. “They are not my lover, Gojo.” he snapped, defensively. “They are just—”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh? Then why’d you hit him? Seems like you’re more concerned than you’re letting on.”

Suguru glared at Gojo. “I’m not concerned, I just—”

“Uh–uhuh, keep talking.”

“I’m just some friend—acquaintance. Worried.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Satoru. I don’t know what you’re going on about. If I'm in love with them, shoot me.”

Without missing a beat, Gojo grinned, “Bang.” He made a playful gun gesture with his hand and gave Suguru a wide grin. “Cupid’s bullets confirm!”

Suguru stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? This is not—”

Gojo laughed, clearly enjoying the confusion. “Just kidding, Suguru. You know I’m just messing with you.”

Suguru sighed heavily, his frustration giving way to a reluctant chuckle. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Gojo shrugged, still grinning. “Just having a bit of fun. But seriously, if you need to talk or if something’s going on, I’m here. Just don’t let things like this get you too worked up.”

Suguru nodded, a mix of relief and embarrassment on his face. “Thanks, Gojo. I guess I needed that.”

With a final, reassuring pat on Suguru’s shoulder, Gojo returned to his sandwich-making. He took a deep breath and went back outside. You were talking with Shoko when you noticed Suguru come back outside towards your way. You were about to speak when Suguru turned back to you. There was a softer, more earnest look in his eyes as he met your gaze.

He looked at you with a determination, his voice steady but kind. “Take your coat, doll.” he said, offering it to you. “We’re getting out of here.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden decision but relieved by the prospect of escaping the party. Without protest, you slipped on your coat and followed him out into the cool night air. The contrast between the cold outside and the warmth of the party was a welcome change, the crisp air a refreshing balm against your senses.

As you walked to the parking lot, Suguru’s silence was a comforting presence. His demeanor was calm and purposeful, a stark contrast to the turbulence of the evening. He led you to his car, and you both got in, the engine’s hum a soothing sound against the backdrop of the night.

Soon enough, you found yourselves parked in the lot of a nearby fast-food chain. The neon lights of the restaurant flickered against the dark sky, casting an almost surreal glow over the scene. It felt like a world away from the party, a simple, unpretentious refuge.

Suguru ordered a handful of burgers and fries, his movements deliberate and focused. You followed suit, choosing your favorites with a sense of familiarity. As you both settled on the hood of the car, the comfort of the fast food and the tranquility of the night began to ease the tension.

You took a bite of your burger, the flavors surprisingly comforting. Despite the simplicity of the setting, there was something deeply satisfying about the moment. “This is the best date ever.” you said with a grin, the warmth of the food and Suguru’s presence making the night feel a little brighter.

Suguru looked at you, a bemused expression on his face. “We haven’t talked in half an hour.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s nice just being with you, even if this doesn’t seem like much.”

Suguru looked away, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not as bad as going bowling.”

You blinked, puzzled. “Bowling? I didn’t know you liked bowling.”

He shrugged, leaning back against the car. “I do. It’s something I enjoy, and being with you is kind of like that—enjoyable and relaxing, even if it’s not always fancy.”

You tilted your head, contemplating his words. Then, feeling bold, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Suguru’s eyes widened slightly, but he responded, kissing you back with a tenderness that melted away any remaining tension.

When you finally parted, you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. “Not too bad?”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he met your eyes, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Not too bad.” he agreed, his voice warm.

You both shared a comfortable silence, the world outside the fast-food restaurant feeling a million miles away. As you finished your burgers and settled back into a peaceful quiet, you knew that despite everything, moments like these were what mattered most.

You and Suguru remained on the car hood, finishing off the last of your burgers. The night was crisp and clear, the occasional hum of passing cars providing a steady backdrop to your conversation.

“So, what’s your favorite part about bowling?” you asked, genuinely curious and trying to keep the mood light.

Suguru chuckled, a soft sound that warmed the chilly air. “It’s the combination of skill and luck, I guess. Plus, it’s fun to just throw the ball and watch it knock down the pins. It’s simple, but satisfying.”

You smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm. “Maybe we should go bowling sometime. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled as he looked at you. “I’d like that. I think you’d be pretty good at it. You’ve got a good arm from throwing those frisbees around at the park.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “You think so? I’ll hold you to that.”

Suguru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “It’s a promise.”

The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you snuggled closer, resting your head on his shoulder. The night was quiet, and for a while, you just enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment.

Suguru glanced at you, his expression softening even further. “You know, despite everything that happened tonight, I’m really glad we ended up here. I like these moments with you. They remind me of why I care so much.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights. “Me too, Suguru. It’s the simple things, like eating burgers and talking about bowling, that make me realize how much I enjoy being with you.”

Suguru gave a small, affectionate smile, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “Sometimes, it’s the simple things that mean the most.”

You sighed contentedly, feeling a deep sense of connection. “I guess that’s true. And, even though tonight didn’t go as planned, it ended up being pretty perfect in its own way.”

Suguru chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on you. “Yeah, it did.”

You both sat there for a while longer, sharing soft kisses and quiet laughter, savoring the simplicity of the moment. The night air was cool, but the warmth between you made it feel like the coziest place in the world.

Eventually, Suguru shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “Let’s head back. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You nodded, standing up and stretching as Suguru helped you off the car hood. “Sounds good. But we definitely need to plan that bowling trip soon.”

Suguru laughed, offering you his hand. “It’s a date.”

As you walked back to the car, hand in hand, the night seemed a little brighter, and the world a little warmer. The small, spontaneous moments were what made your time together truly special, and you both knew that, no matter what, you’d always find a way to cherish them.

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable VIII - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst angst angst

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update this story. I got major writer's block for it :(( This chapter is short but I wanted to get something out to you guys. We're almost at the end though! One more part after this and then an epilogue <3 Thank you guys for all the kind words/support! I don't have a lot of free time so I'm shit at replying to your comments/asks but I promise I read them all and they make me so happy! Hope you enjoy!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You stumbled backwards, away from the evil sorcerer who was hovering above the lake. You frantically looked at Cedric. “Please, Cedric, what is this?”

He didn’t even look your way. You kept stumbling back until you knocked into the hard chest of one of the guards. He grabbed you by the upper arms, locking you in place despite your attempts to wiggle free.

“I brought you the girl,” Cedric said to Koschei. “Now it’s time to uphold your part of the deal.”

You twisted to look up at the guard. “Deal? What deal is he talking about?”

But the guard ignored you too. 

Koschei waved a dismissive hand at Cedric, his eyes still lingering on you as if you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Yes, yes. You will have my support to overthrow your father."

"I need more than just your word," Cedric grumbled. "I'm not handing over the girl until you make a bargain with me." 

Koschei laughed under his breath. "You wish to make a bargain with me?" 

While the sorcerer's attention was elsewhere, you realized this might be your one and only chance to break free. 

You threw your cuffed arms up around the head of the guard holding you in place and bucked forward as hard as you could, effectively tossing him over you and onto the muddy ground. A move Azriel had taught you once. 

You ignored the shouts and yells as you darted off towards the wooded area that surrounded the lake. You couldn't winnow away, not while the faebane handcuffs were still on you. But maybe you could run and hide, buying yourself some time to think of an actual plan to escape. 

You darted into the trees, forcing yourself to run as fast as you could. The air was cold, making it hard to breathe but you pushed yourself forward. You could hear the pounding of feet running behind you. You chanced a glance over your shoulder to see the three guards chasing you but no Cedric or Koschei. 

One of the guards winnowed into the clearing in front of you, causing you to scream as you ran straight into him, knocking both of you on the ground. You rolled off him before he could grab you and winnow you away, pushing yourself to your feet. The guard snarled, getting off the ground faster than you considering his hands were free. 

"Don't you run," he growled at you. 

You took a step back. Another.

Rhysand! Help!

You screamed and screamed for your brother in your head, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear you from this distance. You were fucked. 

"My brother will come for you if you don't let me go," you hissed at the guards, keeping out of their reach. They were circling you like they were predators who had just found dinner. 

One of the guards scoffed. "With Koschei on our side, your brother won't be able to do anything to us."

"Koschei is offering his support to Cedric to kill the King," you shouted back. "Not to help Vallahan fight against the Night Court and its allies once my brother has realized what you've done!" 

That seemed to make the guards pause for a second, the three of them exchanging glances as if now just realizing how stupid the Prince's plan was. Mor knew you were going to visit Cedric. That's where they'd look for you first once they didn't hear from you. And you knew your brother would rain hellfire down on the Prince's territory to get you back. 

Suddenly a loud noise cracked in the air like two boulders smashing against each other, causing the ground to rumble. You fell, your legs collapsing, as three people winnowed into the clearing. You let out a cry of relief. Your brother stood in his fighting leathers, looking ready to murder with Cassian by his side. But it was Azriel who made you falter.

You had never seen him look as angry as he did now—it almost spiked fear in you despite knowing none of it was directed in your way. He looked feral, unhinged. 

The three guards around you were misted by your brother before you could even blink. Their blood rained down on you, still slightly warm. You gagged, rolling over and trying to push yourself to your feet.

“Y/N!”

You heard your brother shout but his warning came too late. 

You felt someone grab you by your hair, lifting you off the floor. You let out a cry of pain, your cuffed hands rising to grab the attacker by their wrist to get some of the pressure off your scalp. You were turned forward to face your brother and the two Illyrians just as the cold metal of a dagger was placed against your throat.

“Don’t move,” Cedric ordered and you realized it was him who had you in his grasp. 

“Get your hands off of her,” Azriel growled. It was dark and full of primal rage. You knew Cedric felt it by the way his body shuddered in response but he held his ground. 

“I don’t think so, shadowsinger,” Cedric hissed.

Azriel’s shadows poised around him like venomous snakes ready to attack. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your nerves on fire. But still, the pain of seeing Azriel fought its way through despite the dire circumstances. The image of him and Elain together was enough to almost fold you into Cedric’s embrace. 

Perhaps death would be a mercy compared to the anguish building in your chest. 

You focused on your brother instead. His violet eyes were hardened with rage, his entire body tense. “Let my sister go, you bastard, and I’ll consider making your death swift and painless.”

Cedric chuckled, his hand in your hair tightening causing you to whimper at the sharp pain. Azriel took a step forward at the noise but came to a halt, his eyes drifting to the area above your head. 

You felt it then, that dark presence. The foreboding. You knew Koshcei was in the clearing now. Could feel his horrid magic in the air. This was a powerful death god sorcerer and despite your brother being the most powerful High Lord, he was no match with a God. None of them would be. 

“Kill them,” Cedric demanded as he too realized Koschei was here.

But the death god did no such thing. Instead, you felt his darkness wrap around you, encompassing you into its hold. You let out a cry of fear, calling out for your brother. 

“The girl belongs to me now,” Koschei said. “Leave and never return or I will do more than just keep her as a little pet.”

“Why do you want her?” Rhysand switched into his diplomatic role, realizing a fight would not be won here today. “Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can do it all the same. Better, even.” 

He was…He was offering himself over to the sorcerer in place of you?

“No, Rhys,” you cried out. “Just go!”

But you were ignored. 

“Unfortunately,” Koschei drawled. “I do not have a taste for males otherwise I would take you up on your offer. But your sister will do just fine. There is nothing you can give me for her. I don’t think you even realized what a prize she was—what sort of power she holds.” 

“Anything,” Rhys begged. “Please, I will give you anything. You want my armies, you can have them. You want my court, take it! Just give her back. Please.”  

You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Rhys would never give up his power, would never give away his court and his people. But here he was, offering up all he had for you. You had caused this. You had made the mistake of running away to Cedric. This was all your fault.

“Get him out of here!” you shouted to Cassian and Azriel. 

All you could think about was your brother’s lovesick bargain with Feyre, of his death leading to hers, of Nyx left with no parents. No…Rhys needed to get out of here before things got worse. You tried to convey your thoughts to the other two Illyrians with a single look. Cassian gave you a dip of the head in understanding, evidently having the same thoughts.

Azriel wouldn’t look at you, his rage filled eyes focused on the sorcerer that held you. 

“Anything,” Rhys pleaded again, surging forward. But Cassian gripped him by the shoulders, holding him back. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your eyes darted between the three of them. At Cassian’s look of despair and uncertainty, Rhy’s pleading face and Azriel….Azriel who was shrouded in his shadows, who circled him in a frenzy—his eyes darkened, his lips twisted in a snarl. He took another step forward. 

“Let her go,” he growled. You swore the birds in the clearing took off fluttering, as if they knew the sort of darkness that was coming. But Koschei let out a small noise of understanding before he chuckled—an awful noise. 

“What an interesting turn of events,” Koschei purred, his grip on you tightening. 

“Kill them,” Cedric hissed, slight panic in his eyes. If Koschei left him behind, you knew your brother would tear him to pieces. 

Koschei chuckled again, as if realizing the same thing. In the end, he would get what he wanted without having to follow through on his half of the bargain, not if Cedric was dead. 

“Say goodbye to your brother,” Koschei laughed in your ear. “And your lover and friend. You’ll never see them again.” 

“I’m sorry, Rhys,” you cried. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Rhys fell to his knees, Cassian still holding him back with his lips pressed in a thin line. You felt Koschei’s shadows wrapping you up, spreading up your legs. Time was running out. Azriel stepped closer with another growl.

“I will kill you for this,” he promised, his eyes shifting from Cedric to the sorcerer. “Let her go!”

Your voice caught in your throat. All the words you wished to say to him with it. You loved him, still, even after knowing these past few months had all been a lie. Your heart was broken, stomped on, discarded by the only one you had ever given it to—but you loved him. You always would. 

He finally looked at you, his hazel eyes so full of rage but you saw it then, the fear. 

“Take me,” Azriel shouted. “Take me instead!”

Koschei laughed again. “Oh, but it is much more fun this way, shadowsinger.” 

His shadows spread over your torso, up your neck, nearly choking you. Tears ran down your face; you were gasping for air. You took one more look at Azriel. One more look at the male you loved with all your heart. One last look because you knew you’d never see him again.

Azriel met your gaze—fear and anguish written all over his face. And just as the shadows began to darken your vision, something snapped into place. Something gold and bright. A thread that extended from your chest and speared right into the shadowsinger. A mating bond. 

Azriel’s grip his chest, his eyes wide, as he stumbled back a step. You watched him realize it at the same time as you. Something burned on your hip and you realized you were feeling Azriel’s bargain tattoo dissipating. He screamed your name as Koschei laughed one more time, swallowing you in his shadows.

Azriel’s pained roar shook the trees of the forest around them and echoed all the way to the small cabin on the lake, where you were thrown to the hard flooring, still shackled and trembling. 

Koschei stood over you, his face a painted picture of glee and lust. He tsked, circling around your weeping form. Your thoughts were filled with Azriel. With your mate. You could feel his horror, his rage, his anguish, all through the bond. 

“Did you know,” Koschei purred, “that Cedric and his family are quite exceptional at illusions? The magic runs in their family.”

You were crying, panting—barely able to hear his words. 

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Koschei laughed. “Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear. You fell for Cedric’s tricks and now you’re here. You’ll never see your mate again.”

Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear.

You hunched over, falling limp against the floor as sobs racked your body. You had lost everything, everything, tricked by that stupid Prince. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything except the crushing weight of your despair.

 And all you could hear were those final words. 

Over and over and over again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List:

@kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @nightless @a-frog-with-a-laptop @woodland-mist @tothestarsandwhateverend @lizziesfirstwife @e-dollly @hyemishii @pricklepearbloom

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @bookishbroadwaybish @pinkangelskies @naturakaashi @sofietargaryen @minakay @alexboshallex @amysangel @i-am-infinite @furiousbooklover @glitterypirateduck @valencia-rou @pinkcowracing @marvelpotter @kennedy-brooke @stupidwingboy @foreverrandomwritings @marvelouslovely-barnes @persephonesong @furiousbooklover @dxjaaaa @kristeristerin @naturakaashi @starlightshowdown @torchbearerkyle @emme-looou @wiseheartzombie @moonlwghts @f4iry-bell @imnotsiriusyouare @val-writesstuff @saltedcoffeescotch @toxic-nathyyy @feiwelinchen @bookslut420 @awkwardnerd @mis-lil-red @exhaustedpotat0

@wallacewillow0773638 @elle4404 @bubybubsters @planetwaynez @kemillyfreitas @furiousbooklover @naturakaashi @marina468 @justbattlecriesdear @pyrostatic @running-writing@esposadomd @aria-chikage @rachelnicolee @daeneeryss @inkedaztec @callsign-magnolia @elle4404 @mell-bell @unstablefemme @running-writing @lostinpages13 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @blessthepizzaman @jenniferpendragon @minnieoo @crazylokonugget @mybestfriendmademe @brandywineeeee @aunicornmademedoit @clara-geekhime @acourtofbatboydreams

(if you don't see your name and you asked to be on the taglist, I probably couldn't tag you for some reason)

[starflirts]

1 STEP FORWARD, 3 STEPS BACK

friends and feelings don’t really go well together, do they ? percy jackson x aphrodite fem! reader, wc: 6.2k, note: IT’S FINALLY HERE!! THE LONG AWAITED PIECE!! i’d like to apologize for putting this out so late but you guys have been so so patient and i’d never thank you enough for that !!!!<3 please enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! (i did add my own twist to the tartarus fall for the sake of the story… sorry not sorry!)

Wherever Annabeth strayed, Percy followed. It was common knowledge at camp Half-Blood. Everyone could see how hearts seemed to float around the boy’s head whenever Athena’s daughter was around. 

You knew this too. And every time Percy’s pining became too obvious, you’d turn your head and swallow the bitter taste of jealousy coming up your throat.  

You’ve liked Percy ever since you were thirteen, when he was just starting to grow taller than you and when he made you double over with laughter at the jokes his step-dad told him. 

But Percy’s liked Annabeth ever since he was thirteen, when he held the world for her and when he desperately wished she wouldn’t join Artemis’ hunters. 

And the whole camp bet on when Percy would make the first move while you were left alone with envy simmering in your veins and the sting of a heartache.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away from your life. His bright smile and his curls always made you wonder if he hadn’t been carved by Apollo himself. 

Percy has been your friend ever since your arrival at camp. But you’ve also wished he’d be more than that. 

It doesn’t really come as a surprise when the son of Poseidon comes to you for advice. You should shut him out and pretend you don’t understand what he’s about to ask, but your mother wouldn’t approve of one her own getting in the way of love. So you let it happen. 

“I need your help with something…” are his first words as he stands against the doorway of the Aphrodite cabin. There’s only you and a few of your other siblings inside and instantly, all eyes are on him. 

You know what he’s about to ask. You look down, resuming your work on your sister’s hair. “I’m busy Percy. Can you come back later ?”

You don’t look at him but you hear him sigh. “It’s…um… pretty important ? I mean… I’m asking you because I know you’re an expert in the love department, obviously and you’re the only one who can actually help.” 

“Fine, come in. But don’t touch my bows! You messed them up last time and I spent forever untangling them.” You smile as you finish little Carla’s hair, while Percy’s hands stir away from your collection.  

Once the younger Aphrodite kids were shooed away, you stood up from your spot on the bed, leading Percy outside to the porch. Leaning against the wooden railing you turn your head, studying the crease of his brows and the way his hair seems messier, as if he’d run his hands through it one too many times. 

“So ? What do you need me for ? Are you trying to escape kitchen duties again ?” you tease, and he tilts his head, wincing.

“Come on, that was one time… I need your help for something else. Something important” you can see the gears turn in his mind so you egg him on. 

“Spit it out Percy ! I’m becoming way too curious.”

This time he turns his entire body to face you. He takes a deep breath and starts. “Can you pretend to be my girlfriend so I can make Annabeth jealous ?”

Silence. You wonder if he just heard the sound of your heart shattering.

“Are you sure this is a good idea…?” 

Percy nods. “Maybe she’ll see us together and realize that she actually likes me. She knows we’ve been friends for a while so it won’t be too surprising, will it ?”

You shrug, turning your gaze to the other campers prancing around the other cabins. Part of you wants to say no, to avoid yearning for something that’s not real. But there’s this tiny other part of you screaming to accept the offer, to bask in the experience of something that might never happen again. Facing him again with a smile, you find him already staring at you expectantly. 

“What do I get from all of this ?” you tease, gesturing between the two of you. 

“My eternal love and gratitude of course !” he laughs as you shove him playfully. 

“Okay okay I’ll help you. That’s what friends are for, right ?”

He breathes out, obviously relieved. “Thank you so much ! I owe you one !” he tells you before pulling you into a hug. 

The moment you hug him back, you realize the situation you got yourself into. Percy pulls away and starts walking backwards toward the sword training area. “I have to go right now or Mr D is going to be mad and I don’t want to be on stable duty tonight!  " he chuckles, but stay awhile after dinner and we’ll set up a plan alright ?”  

You salute him jokingly. “Will do, sir !” 

At dinner, your eyes flicker between your half empty plate and Percy, heartily laughing away with the Stoll brothers. Feeling someone softly nudging your shoulder, you divert your attention to Drew, looking at you with slight concern. 

“You okay ? You’ve been staring at your plate forever.”

“Yeah yeah, just a little tired is all !” you manage a small smile. She nods before resuming her conversation. 

Once everyone’s done, all of your siblings scuttle back to cabin 10 while you linger around the amphitheater, remembering Percy’s words. 

There’s a whisper of your name coming from behind and you whip around just in time to see Percy jogging towards you. 

“Thought you’d never come !” you tease

Your friend jokingly rolls his eyes before taking your wrist, guiding you towards the lake. “I wasn’t gifted with punctuality I know, I know no need to rub it in… Now come, we have a plan to set up !”

The both of you are sitting on the shore, the lights of Sound Island catching your attention. Knees hiked to your chest, you stare at them until Percy clears his throat. 

“So… I was thinking…” he starts 

“Oh, nothing good can come out of that” you joke and he chuckles.

“Seriously though, if we need to make it work people shouldn’t think our ‘relationship’ comes out of nowhere. You know what I mean ?

You nod, eyes still lost in the distance. “We could tell people you asked me out last summer, before I went home and before you went back to New York. We could tell them we were long distance and decided to make it official this summer at camp.”

You can see Percy nodding enthusiastically from the corner of your eye. “Yes ! That’s a great idea ! I would've never come up with that so quickly.”

The air is quiet now, the both of you looking at the waves lapping at the shore. Until Percy breaks the silence again.

“Do… um… Do you think we should set up rules ? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or break any boundaries… I don’t want things to get too awkward between us y’know ?” he rubs his neck, avoiding your eyes.

Turning to face him, you place a hand on his shoulder. “I know Percy, don’t worry. And you’re right, boundaries are essential in a relationship.”

“So… What should we do ? Or not for that matter ? You’re the relationship professional here, I’m all ears!”

The boy’s words put a small smile on your face, although you’re already starting to regret this ordeal.

“Well, we should definitely act ‘coupley’ in public. Hugs, hand holding and all that…” You’re about to continue the list when Percy interrupts you. “What about kissing ?”

You can feel your heart drop in your stomach. You should’ve seen this coming. Brows furrowed, you stared at the dark body of water in front of you. “Only for emergencies. The ‘no one believes we’re actually dating so we have to prove them by kissing each other’ kind of emergency. You get me ?”

Percy laughs at the idea. “I couldn’t have summed it up better. Emergencies only then.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you while he toys with the rocks strewn around him before hearing him sigh. “D’you think it’s gonna work ? That she’s gonna notice me ?”

Mustering the nicest smile you could, you nodded. “Maybe our plan will serve as a little push for her to make the first move. There’s no way she doesn’t like you back. And I'm saying this as a daughter of Aphrodite.” your words elicit a chuckle from the boy next to you. You’re glad to see that he seems a bit relieved by your affirmation, the same you wished someone told you. 

Stretching his arms above his head while stifling a yawn, Percy stands up. “Alright, I’m gonna go to bed, you coming with me ?”

Looking up at him, you shake your head. “Think i’m gonna stay out there a little longer, the air’s nice.”

The boy nods. “Alright. I’ll pick you up from your cabin tomorrow morning so don’t sleep in too long ! Otherwise Silena might just drown me with questions and whatnot.” he winks

You giggle. “Don’t worry about that Perce. Good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” he smiles at you, pinching your ear as was his way of saying goodbye for the past few years before jogging up the hill. 

You’re awoken the next day by Carla and Jamie, the two kids fervently shaking your shoulders all the while loudly whispering your name.

“Percy’s here! He says he came to pick you up! Is he your boyfriend ?”

The sleepy state you’re in makes it hard to catch up with their excitement so early in the morning. That’s until you actually hear Percy’s voice alongside Silena’s.

Silena. You shoot up from your bed, rushing to save the boy from your cabin counselor’s inquiries. 

Emerging from your cabin while adjusting a slightly rumpled shirt, you catch Percy’s eyes, silently begging for help. You can’t see Silena’s face but judging by Percy’s attitude, she might’ve been asking one too many questions. 

“Percy ! Hi ! I didn’t know you were going to pick me up this morning !” you loop your arm around his, a big smile plastered on your face as you wave to your older sister. 

He looks back at you with a smile, obviously relieved by your sudden appearance.

“Had to pick up my girl.” he says with a smile, eyes shifting between you and Silena’s questioning stare. You dismissively wave a hand, a way to tell her you’ll explain later. 

“I swear she was going to annihilate me! She kept asking me why I came to pick you up and why now !” Percy kept talking your ear off about how scary Silena was on your way to breakfast. 

“She might seem… intrusive at times, but she means well ! Silena always cared for her younger siblings. And you’re definitely in her books so I don’t think she hates you, not until you actually hurt me though…” you tell him, eyes crinkling with amusement when you see his face pale. 

You noticed that your arm was still looped with Percy’s. And you liked it. It felt natural, almost real. As you approached Aphrodite’s table, Percy slowed his pace. He slightly turned towards you with wide eyes.

“Annabeth is here ! And she’s looking at us ! What do we do ?”

Shifting as discreetly as possible, you notice the girl looking in your direction, eyebrow raised and a small smile on her face. Turning back to Percy, you shrug.

“Say goodbye, the way you would say goodbye to your girlfriend.” 

Percy doesn’t need to be told twice. Almost mechanically, he pulls you closer, tugging you to his chest and slightly bending down to press a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you later” he whispers before moving away, leaving you at your table full of overexcited Aphrodite kids. 

You didn’t see Percy until later in the afternoon at the climbing wall. Yet the kiss he’d given you before breakfast was burning your cheek, as if his lips had been scalding hot iron. Part of you thought this was a fever dream, that you’d wake up in your bed with Percy’s heart still out of reach. But every camper coming to congratulate you and ask questions about your relationship with the son of Poseidon served as a harsh reminder of the predicament you were in.

It was a very hot morning when Luke decided to take the younger kids for a swim in the lake, asking you and Percy to tag along. The two of you were supervising a group of Hermes kids, Percy playing with them while you watched the scene from the dock, feet dangling in the water. Lost in your thoughts and lulled by the sunlight, you didn’t notice Percy swimming up to you until he pulled you in the water. You emerged with a laugh, hanging onto Percy’s shoulders, all the kids around you tossing water and giggling. He didn’t let you go and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the proximity you share and of his hands on your waist. The kids' incessant cheering doesn’t falter.

“Kiss your girlfriend Percy! That’s what good boyfriends do after pulling their girlfriends in the water!” the older kids teased.

“C’mon guys…” he let out a nervous laugh. But the kids didn't stop.

“Percy and Y/N, swimming in the water, K I S S I N G!”

“That’s not even the correct lyrics !” he argued, to no avail. 

Percy then stared at you and you nodded, heart hammering in your chest. He leaned in and you laced your arms around his neck, hands coming to play with his wet curls. The kiss was short and sweet and sent you over the edge. When you pulled back, you could feel the blood pumping in your ears. With flushed cheeks, Percy turned towards the group, shooing them towards the shore. “Okay alright that’s enough! It’s almost lunchtime, let's go!” 

As you got out of the water, shirt clinging to your body, Percy stood at the edge, hoodie in hand.

“Here. You can wear this instead.” he smiles and you gratefully accept the piece of clothing, reveling in the comfort of the material and in Percy’s scent.          

It was interesting to see how everyone seemed to gobble your story. In the span of a few weeks, you and Percy became the talk of the camp. Everyone wondered how, when and why it happened. During late evenings spent idling on the shore, Percy often praised your storytelling skills and the way the two of you managed to play pretend so efficiently. 

“Do you think it’s working ?” he asked one night, as the two of you were setting up the camp’s bonfire.

“Considering Annabeth seems to talk to you more than usual I’d say yes ? I can’t read her mind though.” you answer, placing the wood you picked up under your arm.

Percy nods, a small smile adorning his face. As he turns and leads the way towards the bonfire, you trail behind, lost in thought. Everything was going too well. So well that You had to remember almost every night that Percy wasn’t really your boyfriend. You knew that wishing he’d just change his mind would probably anger your mother but you didn’t care anymore. Although he was supposed to be yours in the eyes of everyone, you knew his heart belonged to someone else and you felt like an usurper. You considered putting an end to all of this, tell the truth to Annabeth and witness your biggest heartbreak come to life. 

Percy’s voice brings you back to earth: “you coming?” Picking up your pace, the two of you are quick to get back to the group, everyone cheering and hollering at your arrival.

“Got lost in the woods ?” Luke teases.

As you sit next to Percy, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You almost melt into his touch before remembering your inner turmoil. He looks at you with a smile and you smile back, trying your best to conceal your sadness. As you turn to face the fire, he presses a fleeting kiss to your temple and it feels so real you almost want to burst into tears. 

You feel sick. His presence is suffocating and the voices in your head seem to get louder. You free yourself from his hold and stand up. His gaze is questioning and you shake your head.

“I’ll be back. I just— I need some air.” you whisper and he nods, watching your silhouette disappear in the shadows. 

Sitting against the trunk of a tree, your knees hiked against your chest and your face hidden in your hands, you fight the tears pooling in your eyes. Regret and embarrassment are flooding your mind, a breathless apology to your mother escapes your lips. 

All of a sudden, you hear a branch snap and you lift your head up. You brace yourself for the worst, fists clenching at the thought of Aphrodite herself coming to scold you. Yet the woods are too dark and there’s no sign of your godly parent. The rustle of leaves seems closer to you now and your heart beats faster. 

A whisper of your name makes you turn your head. To your left stood Annabeth, taking off her cap and putting it back in the pocket of her jeans. You let out a breath of relief you didn’t realize you were holding as you saw her sitting down opposite you. 

Annabeth is the first one to break the silence.

“I saw you at the bonfire. Wanted to know if you were okay since you didn’t want Percy to come with you.” 

You smile at her words and nod, fingers toying with blades of grass.

“I am, thanks. I just needed to get away for a bit. I was probably overwhelmed or something. Had a long day.” you laugh.

The girl in front of you fiddles with her necklace, brows furrowed and obviously trying to tell you something.

“Yeah figures, Percy told you about our quest didn’t he ? I tried to tell him it was too dangerous, you know ? He was just so determined to come with me, Nico and Will he didn’t listen to me. I know you two are practically glued at the hip so when I asked him if he was sure, he told me you’d probably do the same thing.” she smiles softly before continuing. “He trusts you as much as you trust him, you know. It’s not something you see everyday.”

Annabeth looks over expectantly, only to find you staring at a crumpled daisy in the palm of your hand and you’re pulled out of your trance by her voice calling your name.

“Oh yeah, no we talked about it briefly this afternoon. He told me you guys had to leave soon. You don’t know when you’ll be back do you ?” you ask in a small voice, faking a yawn to hide the tears at the corner of your eyes.

Your friend shakes her head before pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m gonna miss you, all of us will actually.” You tighten your embrace. “Me too, be safe out there.”

Annabeth pulls back with a small smile. “I’m gonna head back and let you join your lover boy.” You watch her as she puts her cap on, disappearing in the shadows. 

You don’t wait long before joining the rest of the campers, guided by the firelight and the giggles of the younger kids. As you make your way back to the fire, you notice Percy making a place for you. You walk on, blatantly ignoring his signs. 

No one else seems to notice what just happened. Puzzled, Percy stands up and follows your footsteps. You’re only a few meters away from your cabin when the boy grabs your wrist, turning you around to face him. The few lights around the cabins highlight the anger and sadness painted all over your face and you jerk your hand away. 

“When were you going to tell me ?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

His face falls. 

“I– I was going to! As soon as Chiron confirmed it, I promise ! I just– I couldn't find the proper way to announce it. I swear I didn’t want to leave you in the dark.” Percy sputters

You nod, averting your attention to anywhere else but the boy in front of you. You couldn’t bear to let him see how upset you were. He couldn’t see how his upcoming departure ripped your heart apart in a way it wasn’t supposed to at all. 

“Whatever. It’s not like you need me to make decisions right ? I’m just the stepping stone in your ‘how to get the girl tutorial’” you laugh bitterly 

Percy shakes his head.

“No, absolutely not. You’re my best friend and I care about you. So much. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I— I didn't think wisely but you have to know how important this quest is. Annabeth wanted you to come with her but I volunteered instead. I couldn’t let you go out there and get hurt. I’d never forgive myself if something ever happened to you.”

His words burn and you wipe your tears angrily. When you finally meet his eyes, you notice how soft his gaze is, and how sorry he seems. 

“Yeah right.” you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t you ever think that i’m going to help you with your little love games anymore. I’m done.” 

You didn’t let him reply. opting to turn around, you walk to your cabin. You spare him one last glance when you step on the porch. He stands still, hands in his pockets. 

“Look after Will and Nico, would you ? I trust Annabeth with my life but I wouldn’t bear to lose them because of you.” your words linger in the air and Percy winces, as if slapped by the meaning of your words.

He nods and you walk into your cabin, tears streaming down your face.

You don’t talk to Percy for the next few days, always finding excuses to avoid being in his vicinity and busying yourself with as many camp duties as you could take. You managed to escape him without anyone noticing the weird tension between the two of you. Yet Percy was desperately trying to talk to you, always searching your eyes during meals and attempting to follow you around to make amends. But you slipped through his fingers, never staying around him for more than a second.

When the day of the group’s departure finally came, you reluctantly stood next to Chiron. The whole camp came to the border to wish the group good luck, and you certainly weren’t going to let your friends go without sending them off with a proper goodbye. You ruffled Nico and Will’s hair, making them promise to send an Iris message whenever they needed to. Annabeth hugs you tightly and you wish her a safe journey. Percy follows, and he’s awkwardly shuffling on his feet, all the while the other campers wait for their favorite amusement. Although you’re upset and heartbroken, you still wish him the best. When you look up at him, you can still see the same apologetic gaze he gave you almost a week ago. 

You reach up reluctantly, lacing your arms around his neck. Under the scrutinizing gaze of your peers, you manage to press a feathery kiss on the corner of his mouth. While everyone cheers and celebrates the rest of the group as well, Percy’s hands find yours. 

“I’ll stay in touch, promise.” he squeezes your hand and you just nod, pursing your lips. There’s a beat of silence, his hand still holding yours. You’re the first one to pull back, crossing your arms and standing back. Percy takes this as his cue to leave. With one last glance at you, he adjusts the straps of his backpack and turns away, following the rest of the group while you watch them disappear through the fields.  

Ever since Annabeth and her partners left, your days at camp seemed to go by slower. Yet the occasional message of Apollo’s son, Will, always eager to update you on everyone and the quest made you look forward to what the day could bring. Ever since his arrival at camp Half-Blood, Will Solace has been like your little brother, always in your shadow. Every time his freckled face appeared through the mist, it was as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Some days, he managed to drag Nico into view to say hi and during others, he almost had to tell Annabeth off for “hogging all his time with Y/N”. On the other hand, you managed to catch glimpses of Percy, whether he was in the background or coming in to greet you, asking how life at camp was. Conversations with him were short and you hoped the others didn’t notice the tension between the two of you that persisted even through a simple Iris message.

As the days went on, Will’s messages were rare, which was worrying. He’d usually call you once a week but your most recent conversation dated back two weeks already. One late afternoon, as you were supervising the archery class along with another camper from Apollo’s cabin, the frantic sound of hooves hitting the gravel path broke the kids’ focus. In a matter of seconds, Grover is right in front of you, panting. 

“Chiron wants to see you… now.” 

Feeling your stomach tighten in anguish, you rush to your beloved activities director, only to find him animatedly talking to someone via Iris message.

To Will Solace. 

Although he’s on the other side of the country, he notices you first and agitatedly calls out your name, prompting Chiron to turn around.

“I’ll let the two of you be. There’s something important you both need to discuss.” Chiron solemnly announces before retiring, prompting you to rush to the boy. 

“Will ! Thank gods ! Are you okay ? What’s going on ? Is everything alright ?” 

Will lets you ask all the questions you could think of and your heart clenches at the sight of his bruised face and his torn clothes.

“I’m okay.. Nico and I are okay.” he breathes and you answer with anguish. “What’s happening ? Why– Where’s Annabeth ? Where’s Percy ?”

At the mention of the older two, Will’s face contorts in an expression you can’t discern and your face falls.

“Annabeth tripped and fell. Percy rushed to help her but he couldn’t pull her up nor himself.” The boy swallows. “So he told Nico and I to join the rest of our crew, you know, the ones from the Argo II, the ones I told you about ?” You nod and he resumes his story. “I— I thought he wanted them to help him pull him and Annabeth up but he… He let go and they both fell. They fell into Tartarus.”

The room around you was spinning. You sat in the nearest chair and brought a shaky hand to your lips. Will was still talking but the ringing in your ears was too overwhelming for you to hear anything. 

After regaining composure as best as you could, Will explained how the rest of their quest was supposed to go. You were unable to utter a single word, the shocking news weighing heavy on your heart. He ended the call with a promise to come back to camp safely. As soon as you were alone in the room, you keeled on yourself, choking out tears. 

Will’s words still echoed in your mind more than a week after that fateful call, especially when word got out that Annabeth and Percy, Y/N’s Percy, fell into Tartarus. Your days were tiresome and your nights full of nightmares. More often than not, you found yourself awoken by one of your siblings in the middle of the night, their hands on your shoulders prompting you to calm down. Pitiful stares from other campers weren’t spared either, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on your back almost everyday, already grieving the loss of two people that meant the world to you.  

But you tried to keep face. Every piece of meal you scraped into the campfire was a silent prayer to your mother to keep your friends safe, every night spent on your cabin’s porch was another way of pleading the stars to bring everyone back to camp quickly and safely. To clear your mind as best as you could, you began to spend most evenings on the shore where you and Percy used to hang out all the time, before everything went down. Reminiscing on past conversations, the knot in your stomach only tightened when you remembered your last exchange, regret swallowing you whole at the idea of losing Percy and never mending things with him.

Sitting on the shore and skipping stones slowly became part of your daily routine. You were there at dawn and at dusk, feet at the edge of the water. This was the exact place you found out Percy and Annabeth came back. Meg McCaffrey, daughter of Demeter came bounding towards you, yelling your name.

“They’re back !!! They’re all back !!!”

Scrambling to your feet, you follow the girl as best as you could, too stunned to speak. And indeed, as soon as you joined the group of campers in the meadow, you saw them. Your eyes caught Will’s first, holding Nico’s hand tightly. You see them next, Percy and Annabeth. They’re in terrible shape, clothes torn and faces scraped. Yet here they are, stumbling towards Thalia’s tree, holding each other up. That’s the first thing you notice: Percy’s tight grip on Annabeth’s shoulder. You let out a breath, rushing towards the group. Will launches himself into your arms and you fall to your knees, holding him tightly. 

“You’re okay. You’re home.” you whisper, a hand soothingly rubbing his back. When he pulls back, you open your arms to Nico, who gladly accepts your embrace. Once the three of you are up on your feet again, Annabeth pulls you towards her and Percy, although not without wincing. You let out a teary laugh at her demeanor before brushing dirt off her cheek. 

“Let’s get you patched up.” you grin as you take a hold of her elbow. You turn towards Percy, who smiles tiredly before beckoning him to follow. “You’re going too Perce.” 

The next few days Annabeth and Percy stay in the infirmary, you pass by often to help with bandages or simply to strike up a conversation. The bright smile with which Percy greets you everytime makes your heart clench and you avoid his eyes as best as you can. 

The duo has undoubtedly become the talk of the entire camp again, and you can’t help but remember the bitterness crawling up your throat again. They seemed closer, with Percy still hanging around Annabeth as often as he could. Yet this time, you sensed a shift in their dynamics, blaming it on your mother’s powers. Ever since the pair came back from Tartarus, you started to fall into the background again. Percy technically hasn’t abandoned you but you did feel left out, again. Evenings with your dear friend on the shore were traded for long conversations in Athena’s cabin and the feeling of Percy’s constant arm around you now seemed like a fever dream.

With a heavy heart, you let life take its course again. Having pulled away from Percy, people started to speculate your potential breakup. You didn’t deny the rumors, wanting things to go back to what you were used to, wanting to hopelessly pine in silence without pretending anymore. But what you experienced in the past few weeks felt too real and every single time your path crossed Percy’s, you felt like drowning in unsaid feelings. 

The day Silena found you sobbing on the steps of the cabin was your breaking point. She rushed to your side, engulfing you in a hug. 

“Hey, hey! What’s going on ?” she asked but you shook your head, unable to find the right words and ashamed of what your answer might be. But she pressed on until you cracked. 

“Percy and I, we weren’t actually dating. He wanted to make Annabeth jealous so he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend and I said yes. And I feel so, so stupid because I liked him, really liked him and I thought that was the closest I’ll ever get to actually be with him but then he left and I guess his plan finally worked.” you let out a bitter laugh before resuming. “And I just can’t look him in the eyes anymore, it hurts too much. I probably messed up our friendship because I fell in love with him years ago when he only had eyes for Annabeth. And I can’t be mad at him! She’s perfect! Sometimes I just wish it was me…”

Letting out a shaky breath, you avoided your sister’s eyes until she held your shoulders, prompting you to face her. There was no trace of pity in her gaze, only the typical fondness she addressed to her siblings. With a small smile, she was about to comfort you until the hurried sound of footsteps caused the both of you to turn towards the source of the sound. 

Percy stood in front of the porch, looking as surprised as you. If looks could kill, Silena would’ve already sent him six feet in the ground. On the other hand, you felt sick to your stomach. Judging by the expression on his face, your declaration didn’t fall into deaf ears. He slowly reached the first step but you stood up abruptly.

“Don’t.” was all you could muster before running off.

You blamed it on muscle memory when you found yourself on the edge of the shore again. But Percy wasn’t stupid. He figured out it became your favorite spot almost a month after he took you there for the first time. With your back facing him, he softly called your name, sighing when you refused to turn around. 

“Go away Percy.”

“I can’t. I won’t.” 

“What do you want then?” you finally snapped, facing him. “Do you want to laugh in my face ? Tell me I’m an absolute idiot for thinking I could ever have a chance with you ?”

“No! Absolutely not!” There's a second of silence before he starts again. “I, I heard everything and” you’re about to cut him off when he shakes his head. “No. Let me tell you what I need to tell you. I can’t let you hurt like that knowing I caused all this mess.” 

Seeing him in such a nervous state somewhat calmed your own nerves. You sat on a big rock, motioning him to sit beside you. None of you talked for a little while, instead choosing to focus on the lapping of the waves. Percy decided to break the silence. 

“I have– had feelings for Annabeth. For the longest time. And looking back on it, I was a jerk for asking you to fake date me. I was selfish, I didn’t even think about how you felt in the moment because I was too obsessed with the idea of Annabeth noticing me.” He swallowed. “I was blinded by my feelings until the quest. When Annabeth told me she wanted you to come with her, I told you I couldn’t allow you to get hurt. I meant it. And when we were in Tartarus, gods, I couldn’t help but imagine you instead of me. The place tricked us, made us see things coming out of our worst nightmares. I— I heard you most of the time. It recreated your voice and made me believe you were in so much pain and I couldn’t do anything about it. I still have dreams about it: you’re the one who’s falling into Tartarus because I can’t seem to reach your hand.”

When you turn your head to look in his direction, you find him already looking at you. 

“What do you mean by that?” you whisper, eyes scanning his face.

He grabs your hand and you can’t help but twitch at the contact.

“I can’t lose you, that’s what it means. I took our friendship for granted and I’ll always beat myself up for that. Annabeth realized that before I did. When we came back, she told me to always be upfront about my feelings to people you hold dear. You never know when you might see them for the last time. So that’s what I’m doing right now.”

“Are you seriously friendzoning me right now ?” you scoff at his choice of words.

“No, no!” he closes his eyes. “Gods what I want to tell you is that I can’t stand when you’re not by my side. And I’m sorry for not noticing it earlier. I care about you, more than you know. And if you’d let me, I want to make things right with you, with us.”

Your heart softens at his declaration. You heave a sigh but you can’t hide the small smile growing on your face. 

“We can try.” you shrug and you feel his grip tighten around your hand. 

His smile almost rivals with the first stars dotting the sky. “We can try.”

[wolfish-trickster]

You made your choice

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Previous part

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k

A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊

"Hey, can I come over?"

"Dude, you were just here!"

"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."

"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"

"Can I just come over?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.

About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.

"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.

"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.

"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.

Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.

It didn't take long.

"Y/N left."

"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.

Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.

Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"

"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."

"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."

"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"

"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?

"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."

"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."

Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."

"I'm a slut for drama."

A phone rang.

In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.

Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.

Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.

"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."

Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.

"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.

"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"

His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."

"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"

"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."

"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."

"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She wasn't always busy when I came here."

"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"

"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."

"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."

"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.

"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"

Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.

Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"

Gojo was just looking at him.

"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.

"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."

"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"

Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."

"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.

"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.

Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."

"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"

Gojo nodded.

"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"

Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."

"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."

Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"

Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.

Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."

His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.

"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.

Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."

Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.

Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"

"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."

"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"

"Then you must set your priorities straight."

"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."

Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."

"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.

"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."

Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."

Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."

Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.

Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."

"You sure about that?"

Gojo nodded.

"Even after she won't forgive you?"

"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.

Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."

"Yeah, what can you do..."

Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.

"Was it Shoko?"

Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."

"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"

Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."

Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"

[rapunzelbro]

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |3| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Hi y'all! I am overwhelmed by the amount of love this fanfiction is getting. Thank you so much, I am glad y'all love it and hope you enjoy it!

Story Guide

Why the hell was he doing this? Maybe it was to try and make up for all that he did to his brother, or maybe it was to attempt to not let Ford ruin something good that finally came into his life. Whatever the reason was, Stan was putting fake glasses on, wearing an outfit similar to what his nerdy brother would wear, he was going to the show. He was going to see you perform.

“God why does he dress so dorky” Stan muttered in annoyance as he looked himself over in the mirror. He adjusted the glasses that sat awkwardly on the bridge of his nose and grabbed the poster before heading out to his car. He drove off to where the show was taking place, in somebody’s basement.

“Do you think he’s going to come tonight?” you muttered, looking at Gabs.

Their band was currently tuning their instruments and checking over equipment in the basement, preparing for the performance.. How the neighbors didn't complain was beyond you, they probably are used to this by now.

“Do you want the truth or for me to lie?” Gabs glanced at you with an annoyed look in her eye, sighing, she continued to tune her guitar “...I don't know why you're still with that bum. You invited him to how many shows now and he just wont show?” She rolled her eyes, directing her attention back towards you.

“He’s super busy, and I get that... His degree is super difficult, so I get it” You muttered, beginning to untangle some of the wires you shoved inside your bag in a hurry “..if he doesn't show tonight, I might just have to talk about where this relationship is going.. I really just don't get why he doesn't support me on this..” you mutter frowning slightly as you progress with the mess of wires

“If that's what you feel is best then do it, besides, you'll always have me and the band,” Gabs smiles softly at you placing her guitar down as she looks at the clock on the wall “Doors open in ten, maybe you'll see him before the show starts.. I'm hoping for his sake or I swear I will beat the absolute sh-”

“Gabs! You're not beating up my boyfriend” you laugh, gently shoving her “But I hope he’ll be there too..”

Stan was glad he got there when he did, considering the fact it was a basement show it was pretty packed. Parking was a bitch, so he ended up parking on the front lawn to which everyone else followed suit once they saw him do it.

“Ford, don't make me regret this…” he muttered getting out of the car before heading to the door. Ignoring the looks of everyone else, he stepped inside. The house smelt of cigarettes and booze, it was rather full at the moment with groups of people talking. It made Stan stick out like a sore thumb while he was trying to find you in the room.

“Holy shit! Ford you actually came!” He heard a female voice yell out before he was suddenly embraced. Looking to see who embraced him, he saw the girl from the photo on Ford's desk, it was you. Returning the hug Stan smiled “I apologize for missing your other shows I got too caug-” he was cut off by you kissing him, shutting him up completely.

Was this wrong? 100%. If Ford ever knew about this he would be in even deeper shit. But the way your soft lips felt against his rough ones pushed that thought aside. Your scent of vanilla, mixed with cigarettes was like a drug he craved. He couldn't get enough of it. You pulled away after a few seconds looking into his eyes smiling

“As much as I love your rambling, shush. I'm just glad you're here!” she said giddily as she wrapped her arms around his neck, the Vodka you tried hiding with a piece of strawberry gum, hitting his nose in the closeness.

“Noted. You look absolutely beautiful, now when do you perform?” Keep your cool Stanley shit!

“Oh I'm on after the first band! Ya know… There's rumors of some school scouting agent showing up tonight.. god can you imagine if it was true?” You smiled, a sparkle in your eyes as you speak “The band and I, in the big leagues..On tour never having to look back? That's the dream” you removed your hands from Stan’s neck

When you pulled away he turned his attention to your ensemble for the show. Your hair was done with brushed out curls, falling towards the low cut neckline of the red shirt you had on underneath the black leather jacket that completed the look.

How the actual hell did Ford score you?

No seriously how the hell.

“Regardless, we got a huge following now, the word got out about us all over campus and some parts of your school so whatever happens I don't give a shit. This is so fun!” you giggle, slightly tipsy from the shots you definitely didn't have earlier

“Whatever makes you happy, I'll support you” Stan smiled gently, squeezing your hand.

He hates that he just added fuel to the fire of lies he is making, but he didn't want to crush your dreams. Stan knows his brother was definitely not supportive of your music career, he knows that he would probably tell you to be more realistic, that's just how his brother was. Stan wishes that somehow, he would have been the one you met, he longed for someone exactly like you. Carefree, up for the thrill of not knowing what's next, and not giving a shit while doing it.

“And that's why I love you Ford” Y/n says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Y/n! Come on, we have to figure out all our shit before we go on! You can make out with him later!” Jamie yelled out to you, holding up one of his drumsticks, pointing out at you

“Ugh, I'm coming! See you on stage lover boy” You kiss him one last time before running off with Jamie.

God he was down bad

Taglist @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment @boba-is-a-soup @bigteefsmallbrain @originalalienlawyershark @darlingdia1007 @kismogizmo @heysam09 @mottysith @fudosl

[withleeknow]

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]

[caxde]

bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you and Eddie have just become a couple, you meet hellfire club, Wayne finally meets you, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (6.8k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n: thank you guys for the support, and thanks to the lovely @criesinlies for her help and motivation, this one is for u babe <3 part1 part2 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)

“As you feel the air collapse in your lungs, I’m gonna need a constitution saving throw from you, Tayr.” Eddie explains, as his voice changes into that dramatic tone he always uses when he’s in the middle of a session, pointing at Mike who is stunned and on the verge of having a meltdown. 

“Wha-Whaddumean the air collapses in my lungs?” He asks frantically, as he shuffles through papers, trying to find something that will get him out of this, his die on his hand, rattling anxiously. 

“Counterspell!” Will screams, his hand on reaching for Eddie, he just scoffs. 

“It’s not a spell.” His voice remains calm, not stopping the visual contact he had going on, enjoying the menacing aura he had going on, something he didn’t get to do as often now that most of the stories and voices he could do were the ones for bedtime so Lua would fall asleep. 

He enjoyed looking at the chaos that ensued at the table, how they all were chatting amongst themselves, trying to find a solution, something useful so Mike’s character wouldn't die. 

Eddie hears the soft knocks on the door, his eyebrows raise a bit as he looks over at the trailer. The kids were around the table, buried deep with character sheets and spell cards, Max and El were on the living room floor drawing and colouring with Lua, Steve and Robin weren’t supposed to come pick them up for another forty minutes and uncle Wayne had yet to come back from work. 

He made his way to the front door, excusing himself from his usual DM spot, Dustin nodding in understanding, a curious look on his face as he looked over at him, and who could be behind the door. 

You had left work a bit earlier, for once they actually respected your work hours, and understood that if you started your shift at ten in the morning, you shouldn’t stay past six in the afternoon. So for once, you were back in the trailer park beforehalf past, and lucky for you, you caught some pastries they wanted to throw out, they said they were too old to sell, but you had baked them yesterday night, so you knew for a fact the blueberry muffins that where Lua’s favourite and the Cinnamon rolls that Eddie liked were good to take. 

So, there you were, your work clothes still on, and a little cardboard box in your hands. 

You looked up at him, as soon as he opened the door and his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, your lips were already curving upwards as you made eye contact with him. His eyes melting a bit at the sight of you, he made a step back, letting you in. 

You didn’t really have any reason to be alert, you were just happy to see him, and excited to do so, even if the nerves of the dinner you had in a couple hours were starting to manifest in your body, you paid them no mind. Instead, you pointed your feet up, the distance between both of your bodies closing, a small peck left on his lips from yours. He smiled as he always does when you kiss him. 

You realised right there that something strange was going on, when the usual noise that rummaged through his trailer was gone. Even worse, the noise you had heard from the other side of the door had ceased, you pulled away, not too far for that matter, your body still a breath away from his, his hand resting on your waist. 

“Got out of work earlier, they gave me some sweets… I thought maybe Lua..” That’s when you realised that he wasn’t exactly alone. 

There was a group of kids sitting around a table, their eyes about to pop out of their heads, mouths opened in shock, whilst Lua was in the company of two girls. You recognized the red head, Max lived a couple trailers down from you, she always had some kind words to say about your outfit, and you had helped her a couple of times when her mom was away and her washing machine was making the same funny sound as yours did. 

She was the one that seemed more shocked out of them all, standing up in one swift movement as Lua clocked that you were there. Her usual gigle as a greeting as she started walking clumsily to your feet, her arms opened for you to hug her. Eddie gave you the same nod he always did, as he took a step further from you and took the little box with sweets out of your hands. It always happened when Lua wanted attention from you, you looked over at Eddie a ‘is this okay? can i hold her?’ look he had become used to, and that he absolutely adored. 

“Princess!” Lua cheered as she wrapped her arms lazily on the back of your neck, Eddie had told you about the whole princess accident, and you had become somehow warmed up about the nickname that she had gifted you. You pulled her in a warm hug. 

“Hi dude, you doing okay?” You asked, your voice higher in pitch as it always did when you talked to her. 

“Yeah. Friends over!” She pointed out to the two girls that remained silent on the floor, her mouth still slightly opened. 

“Eddie you rat!” Max broke the silence, the cascade of comments starting to flow as the kids were coming out of shock. “I live right next to you, how did I not know!” She continued, you looked at her, a bit afraid of her if you were being honest. Her hard tone contradicts with her wide smile. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” One of the boys asked from the table, his tan skin made his blue shirt pop, just as much as his question did. Making you both blush in a similar way, looking at each other, Lua looking between the both of you, still on your arms. 

“She’s dada’s princess.” She explains, as best as she could, her sweet words making you chuckle, as Eddie took her from your arms, pulling her in a soft embrace. 

“Yes, and she got you a snack, d’you want some?” Eddie rattled the box, and Lua’s eyes widened as she cheered. 

The chattering continued as you sort of stood in the middle of the room, not sure where to go to, or what to do now. 

“How did he get you to agree to go out with him?” A boy with curly hair half covered with a cap that had some writing you couldn’t quite read spoke, an incredulous tone evident by the way his face looked, a raised eyebrow following his question. 

“It wasn’t that hard, really… he just… asked?” You could hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen, the sound of it making your shoulders relax, you weren’t used to that much attention. 

“Unbelievable, I should have been asking Eddie the Freak Munson for girl advice, not King Steve… who would have known.” The same boy replayed, you caught the same dramatic voice and flare you had caught on Eddie a few times, it made you chuckle. 

“Eddie the Freak?” You questioned, more to yourself than to anyone else, as you took a step closer to the table.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a big nerd, even bigger when he was in High School.” Max was the one talking now, teasing him as Eddie walked out the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. 

Lua was walking with a plastic plate on her hand, half of the muffin on it. She was trying really carefully to not drop it, concentrating on finding her way to the couch. 

“Hey, enough teasing the one that’s housing you, ‘kay?” That was an expression you still haven’t seen or heard in Eddie. His head tilted to the left, his hair falling a bit in front of his face, his eyes wider before he closed them a bit, his lips pressing against each other. Eddie was embarrassed, and didn’t really know how to manage it. 

“Yeah, we’re literally in the middle of a campaign.” The boy with the black hair and arched nose points out frantically gesturing at the board on top of the table. “I might be dying!” Urgency comes back into his voice, and you can see the way Eddie tries to mask a laugh, his hand hiding his smile, only growing when he makes eye contact with you. 

“Well, at least someone kisses her girlfriend.” The girl that was beside Max and had been quiet spoke out, a spec of hurt in her voice. Her words made the boy that was somehow about to die shake his head in disbelief at her, while Max and the two other boys that had spoken chuckle. The boy that hadn’t spoken yet looked at the dying boy longley. 

Eddie enjoyed the teasing when it wasn’t focused on him, so he let out a chuckle as soon as she heard how El teased Mike back for not being as affectionate as he was. Then again, Eddie was aware that he was highly affectionate, and even now, not being next to you, or holding your hand was a weird feeling now that he could call you his girlfriend. 

Maybe that’s why he uses the small moment where they were chuckling and quietly teasing Mike to walk over you, his hand finally resting on the small of your back, where it fits in a perfect way, the small touch reassuring you in a way you didn’t think possible. Your head spins to look at him, his eyes half closed when they meet yours, he can’t help but leave a small kiss on your forehead. And you can’t help but rest your head on his chest as soon as he breaks the tiny kiss. 

“Okay, roll call or they won’t stop looking at us weird.” Eddie half jokes as he speaks up, you just enjoy the way his chest vibrates when he talks, for a moment you let yourself daydreaming of the day you get to sleep with him as close as you were now. “You know Max.” You nod as the red haired girl looks up at you again, before sitting down back on the floor. “That’s El” The one that had teased the other boy about kissing mouthed a silent hi, her eyebrows slightly raised “She also goes by Jane.” Eddie turns to your ear, whispering it to you. 

“Dustin, Henderson. Though right now I’m Nog.” The boy with the curled covered hair spoke next, he seemed excited to meet you, his smile was contagious. 

“Uh… Okay?” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant with right now, and you had a habit of not masking your emotions, so your face could be read like a poem, your eyebrows raised in misunderstanding and confusion. 

“She doesn’t know about D&D?” The boy that was supposedly dying erupted again, and you heard Eddie audibly roll his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter.”The guy next to him talked, though he almost cut him off, frustration on his voice, the rest of the party scoffed and tried to hide a chuckle “I’m Will, or Will the Wise. He’s Mike, or Tayr in this case.” He pointed to them both, you nodded, trying hard to remember everyone’s names. 

“I’m Lucas or Sundar the Bold, also Max’s sometimes boyfriend.” He tries to charm the girl who just rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. Even if you clock a soft curving of her lips. 

You smile to yourself, trying to hold as much information as you can. 

“Do you also have a second name?” 

Eddie laughs, as he pushes a little hair away from his face, tucking it away nicely under his ear. 

“No, I uh… I’m the, uh… Dungeon Master.” 

“What’s-”

Luckily for Eddie, Steve walked in at that moment. Robin followed him closely. Giving him another moment of quietness and self reflection as they walked inside, observing the scene as they did.

He had never been embarrassed about playing, or anything of that matter, but for some stupid reason that he wasn’t sure of, he felt just that seeing you in his space when he was not expecting it. He wasn’t prepared, for you to see him actively nerding out, even worse, when the stakes at the table were as high. 

“I think we got here a bit early, Steve.” Robin pointed out, her voice doing that sing along tone that you found charming. Lua waved at them from the couch where she was still enjoying her little treat. The reason you were here after all. 

“Oh, shi-” Eddie glared down at him before he could finish the sentence, a quick nod to the little girl listening in. “You’re one to talk.” 

“You are!” Dustin halved screamed from his chair, an accusatory finger pointing at him. “You’re the one giving out girl advice, while Eddie somehow managed to find a respectfully hot girl to go out with him.” You can’t help but giggle at the way he said respectfully, his mouth enunciating every syllable of the word while he looked at you in an apologetic way. 

Eddie blushed harder, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. The vein on his neck grows larger every second. Unlucky for him, and due to the fact that he was far too distracted, he missed the look on your face when you caught that, the half second where the image of Eddie biting his lower lip trying to hide a cocky smile as his vein pulsed had made your thighs clench, and your eyes darken. 

“Henderson’s right, Steve” Robin added in her teasing tone, her words felt like they had an extra space written in between them. “That’s another point on the you suck table.” For some reason that you didn’t understand, that snarky comment made them all laugh, an inside joke you hope to understand someday. 

“I uh… should go back to my trailer.” You point to the opened door with your head, your hand now was somehow tangled with Eddie’s. 

“You can stay.” He pleas with a sweet soft voice, like honey to your ears. His eyes looking down at you, somehow becoming doe-like. 

“I would, but I need to make dinner for four.” You remind him as you wink. A lovesick smile appears on his lips once again, forgetting that he was surrounded by people that will tease him as soon as you’re gone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, come whenever.” 

He stands there for a moment, knowing full well that their friends are talking to him, teasing him relentlessly, but he doesn’t really care, he’s too focused on seeing the way your body moves, and how even your steps reflect how happy you feel. 

-

“I thought she was coming over here.” Wayne pointed out, standing against the bathroom door, looking over Eddie's shoulder, as he brushed out Lua’s recently clean hair. 

“She was, but she wanted to host, said she’d feel more comfortable.” Eddie explained, not really focusing on what he was saying, more centered in the job he was doing. He had an experience with curly hair, and knew just how much care it needed, and how much he hated detangling it when he himself was a kid. “I’ll be done in a second, bug.” He tried to reassure her, her hands pushing him away. 

“Right.” Eddie wasn’t expecting much words out of his uncle, but he was still a bit anxious, and he wasn’t really sure he knew why. “You should shower, I’ll change Lua.” He told him, as he grabbed Lua in a soft embrace. 

That’s when Eddie realised he had been anxiously brushing his daughter’s hair for the last fifteen minutes. 

And that he probably just needed a second, a moment or a minute just for himself. 

 Turns out, silence can also be an overwhelming sound. 

For Eddie, silence was the time his thoughts gained free raign on his brain.

Even if he tried to quiet them down, hot water hitting the back of his head as he takes his time washing his hair, he wasn’t sure he could do it. 

He was used to judgment. First it was him being a nerd, which evolved into freak, which ended with reckless. First he had been an outcast, then he had been the dangerous teen, now he was the young dad who barely finished high school. 

His problem -he realised as the water pressure hitted the knot that he had on his left shoulder- was that that had all happened before you met him. 

And he hadn’t told you a lot about that. Or about Hellfire and just how important and life saving it had been for him, despite it’s nerdy side, which was what you had only seen. 

He had a river of what if’s as he brushed his damp hair, putting leave in conditioner and drying it. 

He kept thinking. 

What if you seeing him with (ironically) even more kids had somehow pushed you away.

What if you knowing that he had been on the verge of expulsion made you reject him. 

What if you getting to actually know him made you wish you never had in the first place. 

Wayne knew what was going on, but he had realised through experience that the best he could do is just give him space, facilitate the tasks he had to do. So he left him his comfort black button up shirt he always wore when he wanted to feel better, his usual blue jeans under it. 

He had dressed Lua, with the hand-me-down clothes Jameson from three trailers up had given them a few months ago, a pastel baby blue dress she had a fuss about, until she realised it was actually comfortable. Wayne smiled to himself, remembering how Eddie used to do the same. 

Across the street, you were setting up the table. 

The meat cannelloni your grandma used to make for you -or your best attempt at them- where being covered in bechamel that you had just finished, the bottom of the pot that you had used was barely brown for once, a good sign, you thought. Maybe a bit too nutmeg, maybe not enough salt, but it drowns the cannelloni in a warm blanket, before you put some shredded cheese on top. 

Once they were in the oven, the whole trailer smelt like warmth. 

And you started fidgeting with the hem of your long sleeve. 

You checked again that the white wine was chilled, and that you had plenty of water and orange juice for Lua. 

You repainted your lips red, and checked that you didn’t have any mascara stains in your eyelids for the third time. 

You decided to set the table, soft music playing in the background. A tape you had had for a while, with Bowie, the Smiths and some songs you just knew the name of. As you placed the last fork, the familiar soft knock came from the door. A smile appearing in your lips as a response. 

Eddie’s breathing slowed down as soon as he locked eyes with you. His shoulders dropped a bit, his eyes softened, just by seeing you, the river of thoughts stopped. 

Wayne’s eyebrows raised -as soon as he saw the effect you had on his anxious nephew- but neither of you noticed. 

“You look nice.” You let out, your voice softer, kinder. 

“So do you.” He said back, his voice no longer shaking. Lua in his arms, reaching for you. 

“Hi dude!” Your pitch became higher, as you grabbed her for a quick hug, letting her on the floor so she could investigate as she loved to do. 

Eddie stepped a bit closer to you, leaving a kiss on the spot he liked so much, right where your right temple met your hairline, before introducing you to Wayne. 

“It’s a pleasure.” You tell him, a firm shake of hands proceeds your words, a kind smile in his lips as his eyes are framed by smile lines. 

“I’m sure it’s all mine.” He replays, you like how he drags every word, his accent being so different form the one Eddie has. “It smells heavenly.” 

“Grandma’s recipe.” You tell him, as you move to the table. 

Eddie sees that you had fixed a chair with a couple of your hard pillows, so Lua could actually be seated on her own chair, with you. For some stupid reason, it warmed his heart. He hadn’t asked you to, assuming that she’d just be in his lap once again, but seeing that you had taken the effort, made him see -even if he thought it before- just how much you do care. 

Wayne caught it, the way Eddie’s smirk appeared as he looked at the chair, the small plastic plate and utensils you had set up for her. Water and orange juice. Wayne was starting to like you already, and he had barely talked to you. 

Everyone seemed to like the food, a soft wow escaped Wayne’s lips when non one was looking, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. Lua had wanted to try them as soon as they were set up on the table, Eddie telling her as he cut them up in a soft voice that they were too hot, she didn’t care. She grabbed the end of the fork Eddie had, trying to take a bite. 

“Do you really wanna burn your mouth?” He asked, even if he was a bit overwhelmed, his tone stayed sweet, calm. She nodded, only looking at the food. He let her take a small bite, which she did eat, chewing with her mouth opened. “I told you.” Eddie gave her a look that you found endearing. His head tilted ever so slightly to the right, his eyes opened a bit too much nodding as he did so, a soft giggle escaped your lips. He couldn’t help his from curling as soon as he heard you. 

“Yummy” Is all she said, and it made your eyes squint a bit, your smile growing bigger. Eddie’s voice stopped for a second as he saw you, and how proud you looked. 

“You like it?” Eddie could swear your eyes shined when you asked, even a bit brighter when you saw Lua nodding. 

Wayne realised something in that moment, the small bubble that you seemed to be in. 

From where he was, it already looked like you belonged. Like you always had. You seemed to understand Eddie just as good as he was, maybe even better. 

Wayne did try to get to know you, asking you things every time he felt like he had an opportunity. He was always kind, and gave you a smile when you answered. 

The thing that you found out that Wayne and Eddie shared was how much they listened, and remembered. 

“How come you ended up in Hawkins?” 

“They lied to her.” Eddie replayed before you could, food still in your mouth. 

“Whaddumean?” Wayne responded in shock, his eyes staring at you, wanting you to answer. 

“I uh… I got a call about a teaching spot that was supposedly open, in the High School, but uh… they forgot to add that it wouldn’t actually be available for another six months so… I’m in the cafe, saving up… you know” You felt like you were overexplaining yourself, or that you were coming across as pitiful, but as soon as you felt Eddie's hand on your thigh, a small squeeze on it, you knew you were going to be okay. That you were doing okay. 

Wayne looked over at Eddie, a smirk appearing on his lips, that Eddie knew the meaning of, and for once he was welcome you didn’t. It said, you also want to get out of here. Eddie couldn’t unpack that, not now. 

“Well, I’ve heard you’ve already met some of your future students.” He said instead, taking a sip of the white wine you had poured for him. 

“Have I?” 

“Didn’t your little fan club come?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie, who had gone quieter. Not only was he not talking, but he had that shyness that he had grown to hide coming out, right there in the open. 

“Fan club?” You asked back, giving him a little look. He seemed lost, present, but still not entirely there. 

“Hellfire, we uh… play a game together.” 

“I didn’t know you had more kids beside Lua.” Even if you were smiling sincerely, even if he knew you were teasing him, he still gave you an apologetic smile, not really looking at you but at Wayne, begging him to stop. 

Wayne understands, so he waits a few seconds for the music that had been softly playing to stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods at his nephew. 

“I should get Lua to bed.” He excuses himself, as he walks over to her. Lua looked up at him with a puzzled look in her eyes, her head swinging between his dad and his uncle. “Let’s go to bed, Lu.” It’s the first time that you hear him being sweet, almost like honey. 

Lua stands up on her own, her arms up in the air, waiting to be lift up by him. He waves you goodbye in sync with Wayne as he walks out the door. 

You stand up. 

You don’t really know what you have done to make Eddie quiet, but you give him space, as you clear the table, and you catch him playing with his index finger, a repetitive movement that lets you know he’s got something bugging him in his mind. 

You let him stay in the chair while water runs down your hands. Calming yourself whilst you come out with the right words. 

“Are you okay?” You end up asking the most basic question, but the only one you can actually think of. He finally looks up at you, and in doing so he realises due to the iron taste in his mouth that he had been biting his lower lip a bit too hard. 

“Yeah, just… Sorry.” He tried to brush it off, finally standing up, walking to the kitchen. His hands hidden deep in the back pockets of his jeans.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He knows that took courage out of you to ask, you start cleaning the plates, the sponge bubbling up as you squeezed it. 

“Do you want me to dry?” He asks back, stepping closer to you, nodding to your previous question, looking for a way to be close to you. 

“Sure.” You step to the left, letting him a bit of space for him to fit, his waits hitting his, a comforting touch that makes his brain slow down once more. “Did I do something? While we were eating?” You try to ask, not sure why he went quiet all of a sudden. Not sure why Wayne had vanished and let you two alone, or why he nodded at Eddie before doing so. 

“No, you were amazing. I can tell Wayne already likes you.” He admits, drying the first plate, his voice was shaking a bit in anticipation about the conversation he knew you were about to have. “It’s just… I haven’t been embarrassed about Hellfire in like, ever. And suddenly the fear that you might I dunno, think it’s dumb, or that you wouldn’t like me being like, this huge nerd, that hangs out with Highschoolers while you are supposed to be a teacher and I…” He was talking faster and faster, his words were starting to fuse together, catching up to the speed in which his brain was thinking about it all. 

You turn the faucet off, paying him full attention. He catches that in the midst of his rumbling. His eyes lock with yours, as nervous tears make his eyes crystallize. 

“Shit I barely graduated. I hated school, I was a freak who liked to play or still likes rather, who tried to defend anyone even if I got beat up or called shitty things and then I got a kid and shit… You have been nothing but nice and you literally are like a I dunno, a princess. Kind and all that shit I don’t… I don’t really deserve it.” 

You shake your head as he talks, wanting to interrupt but not really being able to. You just take his hand, a soft touch that lets him know he’s being heard. 

“Moon.” He can’t help but look at the way your lips move when you call him by the sweetest nickname he had ever been called, only made better by your voice. Your thumb tracing drabbles on the back of his hand. “I like that you’re a nerd.” He can feel the sincerity of your voice, only made more evident by the smile that painted your lips. “I like it because I like you.” You tell him, your eyes looking at the way his lips part, his head shaking in embarrassment. “I don’t care if you play whatever game, or hang out with whoever, because that makes you who you are. And that’s who I like.” 

“Idiot.” It’s the only thing he can manage to say back, with the stupidest widest smile you had seen from him. 

“Hopefully yours.” You tease back, turning back to keep cleaning more dishes. 

He just stands there, mesmerized by you, and the way that you treat him, how you make him feel. He just gives in the urge, his arms wrapping to your waist, his chest hitting your back. You gave in a bit, pushing into him, melting in his arms. 

He took the opportunity to kiss your neck, right where it made your skin tingle, goosebumps being sent through your body. He kisses the same spot again after he hears a giggle turning into a soft moan. 

You turn to him, finally giving him a decent kiss. 

His lips intertwined with yours, the softness contradicted with the underlining neediness of his touch, both of you smiling through the kiss, his hands in the small of your waist, pulling you in closer, your hands lost in his hair, tugging it in a way he thought was heavenly. 

“Yeah, hopefully mine.” He finally responded, once he broke off the kiss, his forehead still touching yours, his hands tracing circles on your skin, under your shirt. You couldn’t stop playing with the ends of his hair. 

You stayed a bit longer like that, soft caress left on your body, as you just held each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another. 

-

He had come over, right when you were ending your shift, panic in his eyes. He was stressed, you could tell that much, switching his order from regular to decaf. He told you, that he had just been called to cover a late shift, and that he didn’t know if he could take Lua with him, because it would be too late, that Wayne had the night shift and wouldn’t be home until 6 in the morning, how much he just needed some reassurance, maybe a little kiss -he couldn’t stop teasing, not even if he tried, not even when he was panicking- but he wasn’t expecting your response to all of this. 

“I could go over and watch her.” 

You saw how his thoughts stopped for a moment, and how the warmth he felt in his heart after he heard your words spread through his cheeks. He asked if you were sure, if you actually didn’t mind. He reminded you that you didn’t have to do it, that it wasn’t your responsibility nor did he want to impose you with something you weren’t ready for. 

“I’d love to spend some time with her. Maybe she’ll even like me more than you in the end.”

He chuckled, added a no way and thanked you a bit too much, finalizing it all with a quick kiss before he headed out, already late for his shift. 

A to go cup in his hand.

Wayne had also thanked you profusely, even if he was a man of no words, he gave you a smile and a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Lua was sitting down on the couch, mumbling along to the words to her favourite princess movie, while she swanged her hand around, holding on tightly to her chocolate chip cookie. 

You sat down next to her, she squeezed in closer to you. 

“You really like Aurora, don’t you?” Your voice was always higher in pitch when you talked to her, slower, softer. You thought that maybe you did that, in a way, because if someone had been kinder to you when you were little, maybe things would have been easier. 

“She’s the best.” She answered, as if it was painfully obvious. “She lives in the woods, like me!” She pointed out, as soon as the little cottage came on the screen. 

“She does.” 

“And Dada says I’m special like her.” You noticed how her eyes shined when she talked about Eddie, the care and love he had for her reciprocating in the way she talked. 

“You are.” You reassured her, brushing her hair with your fingers, she cuddled with you, a smile on her face. 

-

Three fast knocks on the door made you startled. Lua had just gone to bed, and you were a bit busy cleaning the mess you ended up doing. Thankfully, you were used to cleaning after yourself, white papers filled with doodles, and teddies laid on the floor next to the couch. You looked at the clock, and you saw that Eddie still had a while to come home, and he wouldn’t knock, he would just barge in. So with an unsure pace, you made your way to the trailer door, opening it as the little boy was screaming Eddie’s name. 

“Oh, hi.” He mumbled, as soon as he saw you. 

“Hi. You’re… Dustin?” He took a quick look at you, scanning the scene before he dared to say anything else, not really understanding why you opened the door and not his friend who actually lived there. 

“Uh, yeah. We met.” He was measuring his words, still a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to do now. “Where’s Eddie?”

“D’you wanna come in?” You both had asked the questions at the same time, so when he nodded, you just stepped to the side so he could come in. You noticed the backpack he had glued to his back, his straps tighter so the weight wouldn’t bother him. “What do you got there?” You pointed at the heavy back with your finger, a curious tone in your voice that made him grab it, before putting it on the table. 

“Oh, I was supposed to meet Eddie.” He said, before seeing you nod, wanting to know more, as you sat down. He followed your movements, as he opened the bag. “He left me some of his D&D stuff, and he was supposed to help me with some things I wanted to add to my first campaign.” He started yapping, you saw that just as Eddie, he talked faster when he was excited about a topic. 

“That’s the game you were playing the other day?” You ask sincerely, he nods, as he starts to fill the table with books, little figurines, papers that had scribbling with two different handwriting, sketches… You got lost into all of it for a second, Dustin watching at the way you seemed to analyze it all. “Could you… like, teach me stuff about it?” 

“Why?” Dustin scrunched his nose, not really following you, his eyebrows almost meeting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Eddie really likes this game, and he talks about it, and I don’t always follow, but I don’t wanna bother him with too many questions so…” 

Dustin's wide smile was all the confirmation you needed. 

You were starting to get it, you had races, and classes and the little numbers on the paper sheets where abilities, that you decided rolling weird sided dice. 

You were in to deep, trying to understand and following him closely, as he flipped through the pages of the big dense book he had between the both of you. 

Maybe that’s why neither of you heard him when he walked in. 

He was about to talk, his mouth remained open, but as soon as he saw you both, he stayed there. His body against the door frame, his arms crossed above his chest as he just looked, with the fondest stupidest smile on his lips as he saw just how much interest you had in whatever Dustin was talking to you about. 

“So you can mix and match any classes and races?” You ask, Eddie's heart stops for a moment, he hadn’t realised you were talking about his game. 

“Yeah, I mean if you were to play a bard which was…?” Dustin was questioning you, seeing if you remembered what he had just spent some time trying to explain to you. 

“An unhinged rockstar that likes to tell stories.” 

“So basically Eddie.” Dustin made the same joke again, making you giggle, whilst Eddie tried to hide his chuckle, wanting to know what you’d say without you knowing he was there. 

“That’s my man.” You teased back, in a singing tone that made Dustin laugh as he looked back down at the book. 

“Yeah, so, if you made your Bard a Half-Elf, it would automatically get a +2 to charisma, which is extremely useful to them.” He cheered, you nodded. You knew that Dustin was feeling a bit proud, as he was explaining these things to you. 

“And they also get a +1 stat boost to other abilities.” Eddie finally chirped in, making his presence known. 

He smiled widely, as he walked over to you. His arms falling to his side, his heart beating faster as if it were eager to finally be near yours. 

“Hi.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as he got closer.

“Hi.” He answered, closing the distance between your lips with a quick peck. 

Dustin was happy, seeing the way Eddie melted when you were close, he liked seeing his friend act like that. All soft, as opposed to the thought persona he had to give out when he was still in school, back when they met each other. 

“Dustin was helping me understand your game.” You told him, eyes shining up at him. “But you’re the one he wants to ask stuff to, so… I’ll head home. See you soon Henderson.” You told the cap wearing boy, with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, he waved bye to you, looking as Eddie walked you to the door. “Lua’s been asleep for a while, so don’t worry about that.” You told him, getting a bit lost into him, which you were starting to realise you had no control over, when his eyes looked like chocolate pools under the moonlight. 

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” He told you, pushing a small flock of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with his thumb a bit longer than he really needed to. 

You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes not letting go from his stare. You bite your lower lip, a bit from shame, a bit from childish excitement over kind words. He lowered his thumb, pulling your lip down so you wouldn’t bite it. 

The delicate move, the roughness of his callused finger contradicting with the softness of it all, sends your body into overdrive. 

Goosebumps not only filled your body, but his too. He felt it just as much as you need, the spark, the electricity, the fire. It screamed i need you, though sometimes, it seemed like it was screaming i love you, or rather i could love you if you let me. 

“Why?” Is the only thing you could gather to ask, your voice shaking a bit from want, or need. Eddie felt like your voice was a velvety hug on his skin. 

“Just, you really are.” 

He kissed you. His thumb tilted your jaw upwards so he could reach your lips, even if it was a simple movement, it still made your head a bit dizzy. You took a step closer to him, amidst the kiss, so your waist would touch his, so you could get your hands on the back of his neck, burying them in his hair. Your tongues touch, and you feel out of breath. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, he was too happy, and it was all thanks to you. 

“Goodnight Moon.” You whispered into his ear, finally pulling away. 

“Goodnight Princess.” 

He could have stayed there, watching you leave forever, if it weren’t for Dustin’s soft teasing. A stream of oh lover boy! that came from inside the trailer, it couldn’t even bother him, not even a little bit. 

Because deep down he knew, he was falling deep in love with you. 

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

-

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf @guineveresghost @saramelaniemoon

part 4 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

[heytheredelulu]

Marvel Fanfiction Masterlist

| Smut ❤️‍🔥 | SFW Spicy 🌶️ | Angst ❤️‍🩹 | Fluff ✨ |

Imagines

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Little Devil 🌶️

You’re tempting him to sin.

Ruin Me 🌶️

Say less.

Bucky @ Ulta 🌶️✨

You dragged him with you.

Five Senses ❤️‍🩹✨

You walk him through the grounding method.

I Gotta Take This 🌶️

Bucky wants to make an excuse to slip out of the mission briefing.

Simple

Bucky Barnes enjoys the simple things in life.

To Have and to Hold and to Fuck Whenever I Want

You really think a little bit of blood is going to keep your husband from having you?

Steve Rogers x Reader ❤️

Like Sin 🌶️❤️‍🩹

Your possessive boyfriend accuses you of cheating on him with his best friend- and you decide to rile him up.

Loki x Reader 💚

Yearn for You 🌶️✨

You’ve been friends since childhood, after all this time could he truly feel nothing for you?

Winter Rose Drabbles

The Winter Rose, an ex HYDRA assassin trauma bonded with Bucky Barnes in the aftermath of their deconditioning. They’re walking the fine line of love and friendship and both of them are too afraid to cross it.

Bucky Barnes x Winter Rose 🥀

Wounds ❤️‍🩹✨

Wash Over Me ✨

Fuck the Line 🌶️❤️‍🩹

One Shots

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Temptation ❤️‍🔥

You text your boyfriend a nude selfie while he’s working and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Good Girl ❤️‍🔥

So close you could taste it- but only if you begged him well enough.

Wants and Needs ❤️‍🔥

You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.

Little Bookworm ❤️‍🔥

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Watch Me ❤️‍🔥

Anon request: “could you do something enemies/rivals where bucky accidentally finds out that you have a mirror kink during a training session?”

Unbreakable ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

Unbreakable- The After Years ✨🌶️

The conclusion to your story.

Stucky x Reader 💙❤️

Untitled - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Multipart fics

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Ready to Comply Part One ❤️‍🔥

Tony Stark's shy, curvy intern finds herself fighting for her life when the quiet and reserved ex-assassin she's been pining after for nearly a year has been activated by HYDRA and given the order to kill her to prevent the completion of the new tech she's been developing alongside Tony Stark and Stark Industries.

Ready to Comply Part Two ❤️‍🔥

The second installment of Ready to Comply.

Ready to Comply Part Three - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Teaser

Current Taglist (Taglist is open):

@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

To be added to my taglist for upcoming works, leave me a reply on this post.