#we’re pining ON THE ROAD

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[jujutsukatsuki]

Katsuki knew from a young age that he wanted to be the best. He would sacrifice what he had to go get there. Even if that meant losing the people closest to him.

You knew from a young age that you wanted to be Katsuki’s. That you’d stand by his side and love him forever. You’d sacrifice whatever you could to be his.

It worked for a while. You pined after him. He shoved you away.

“Oi! Get off!” He barked and tried to shove you off of him. Katsuki had just won the UA festival and you met up with him after.

“No! You won! You did so good!” You squeal and squeeze the blonde tightly.

Katsuki knew that you and him could never happen. You were the annoying girl who lived across the street. The girl he was forced to play with when your moms would have coffee together on Saturday mornings.

You knew that you’d have to chip away at the icy exterior to make room for yourself in his heart. He wasn’t just Dynamite. He was Katsuki. The boy who lived across that street. The boy you’d spend Friday nights roasting marshmallows with in the winter time with the use of his quirk.

His time at UA came and went. With lots of bumps in the road, he always seemingly found himself at your doorstep. Disheveled. Bleeding. Nearing exhaustion.

“Sit still.” You whisper softly as you stitch him up. You went on to become a doctor, thanks to Katsuki. You saw the difference he was making in the world and you wanted to do it too.

“I am.” He said gruffly and took another swig of vodka. He looked down at your concentrated face. The way your brows furrowed as you carefully threaded the needle. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but every time you were finished healing him up, he craved the hug you’d give. Like you were holding him together.

As Katsuki moved up in the world, did you. He was the number two hero. You were a top doctor at your hospital. There was a day that seemed to be like any other. Some petty robberies, a few check ups. The day was normal for you both.

Until a huge explosion shook the hospital and sent everyone in a panic. Three villains came in and started causing destruction, and chaos. You quickly started to help patients that were laying in the rubble, you didn’t care that the villains were close by you. You put other people before yourself.

That was the last thing you remember before waking up in someone’s arms. Soft water droplets we’re hitting your face. You scrunched your brows together, your eyes felt heavy as you slowly opened them. Your vision slowly focused as you saw the spiky blonde holding you. Tears mixed with remnants of black from his eyeliner slowly ran down his cheeks and onto your face.

“Come on. Wake up. Please.” His voice was hoarse. You wanted to laugh, to tell him you were right that someday all the yelling would get to him.

“Y/n please. If you wake up right now, I’ll marry you. Just please get up. I can’t do this without you!” You’ve never heard katsuki this upset before. When you’ve finally become coherent enough to slowly move, you gently wrap your arms around him in a hug.

“I’d never leave you Suki.” You whisper to him. For the first ever, he hugs you back. His hand grip the tattered up doctors jacket like you’d fade from existence. He buried his face in your neck as you both hold each other.

Katsuki takes you to his apartment that night, he says it’s for your safety just incase. You can tell he’s lying. Which is why when he shows you the guest room to let you lay down and rest, you turn and lay in his bed instead. The corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he lays with you.

You know that katsuki will never love you like you love him.

Katsuki knows that you will never understand his love for you. That his love isn’t something he can put in words. He doesn’t know how to translate his love into something you can understand. But he’ll work at it. Because he loves you.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

virgin sacrifice

a/n: you guys? hail satan.

summary: you didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

warnings: dark!steve harrington x reader x dark!eddie munson, dark content, noncon/dubcon, smut, summer camp au (they are all camp counsellors), slasher au, virgin!reader, very innocent!reader, final girl!reader, established relationship, violence, murder, weapons, blood, devil worship, predator/prey, bondage, knife kink, dirty talk, pussy inspection, oral, fingering, anal

word count: 1389

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It was the summer of 1986, right before you were supposed to go off to college and start your real life. It was also the summer when you worked as a counsellor at Camp Nebula, the very summer you fell in love for the first time. The summer when the most popular guy for some reason took notice of you and started calling you his girl. 

Now, he was a tad bit more experienced than you and wasn’t shy to show you in ways that you always snuffed out before they could grow into anything uncouth. That’s not how you’d been raised, to lose your virginity in a summer camp’s tool shed, however gobsmacked he made you feel, you just couldn’t take that step. 

No one had ever looked at you the way that he did, truly listened to you when you spoke, and even stood up for you, like whenever the camp’s freak would say things to you vulgar enough to render you speechless, your knight in shining armour would step in and save the day. 

It was the perfect summer. 

Was. 

Completely perfect right up till the murders began to happen. 

You didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

Lungs burning, you sprinted through the dark camp, a flicking lamppost above illuminating the path you raced down, the ground littered with sharp pine needles. 

When you made your way to the dining hall, the rotary phone inside, your plan of salvation, turned out to be just as dead as the summer friendships you’d thought would last a lifetime. 

“There’s nowhere left for you to run, little lamb!” the petrifying roar from just outside the hall’s walls caused you to jump and scurry into the kitchen, though when you did, your gaze should have been directed in front of you and not over your shoulder as you swiftly crashed into a figure. 

A blank mask stared down at you, one of the ones that the kids used for crafts, usually decorating them with an explosion of paint and beads. 

Chuckling softly at the way you stumbled back, he playfully uttered, “boo!” raising his hands up to scare you, retroactively flashing you the blade fast in his grip. Half-obscured eyes stilled glued to you, the killer shouted over his shoulder, “found her!” and held the weapon outstretched to keep you where you were. 

“Oh, good,” another masked murderer appeared as the back door was swung open, “well then let’s get this show on the road!”

“Please don’t kill me!” you cried as the one keeping you cornered grabbed you. 

“Kill you?” one of them laughed, “oh honey, we’re gonna do so much more than just kill you,” before he got out a bundle of rope and gestured to his partner, “get her up on the table.” 

Once they’d forced you down upon the cold steel surface and tied you up, they proceeded to reveal something to you that nearly caused your thumping heart to stop. 

“…Steve?” you scarcely breathed as one of them plucked off his mask and tossed it onto a counter. 

“Surprise,” your summer sweetheart flashed you a smile. 

“But–… I’ve been looking for you everywhere all night, you–… you did this?”

“Well, don’t give him all the credit,” the other one peeled off his mask as well. 

“Eddie?” you shuttered, “b-but you two hate each other.”

“That’s what we had to make you think so that no one would suspect a thing,” the long-haired rebel wiped some of the bloodstains on his blade clean on the hip of his jeans, “no one would ruin our plan.” 

“Y-your plan?”

“Might as well tell her,” Eddie nudged his partner who shifted his grip on the axe heavy in his grasp, “since she has such a big part to play in it.”

“Oh, what the hell, why not,” Steve grinned and pulled over a rickety stool, “you see, there are things, wishes, that both me and Eddie have,” the man you thought you’d loved began to explain, “ambitions that, try as we might, we can’t achieve on our own. So, Eddie here found this old book, this tome, that explained a ritual that could grant us our deepest desires...” he uttered dreamily, “it was really quite simple when it came down to it… first 40 lives and then you.”

“…me?” your voice trembled, “why me? I’m not anyone special, I'm just–”

“Oh no, Y/n, you sweet, sweet dumb girl,” Steve chuckled darkly, “you are the final piece to the puzzle,” he stared directly into your soul, “our perfect little virgin sacrifice.” 

Taking a step closer to your strapped-down form, Eddie’s stare danced down your frame, scrapes and dirt still tainting the uniform you’d freshly washed just this morning. 

“But you know, the funny thing is, our lord and saviour down in hell has a funny and pretty ancient definition of what a virgin is,” he teasingly ran the flat side of his blade up the length of your leg, smiling as you squirmed, “sure, some things are off limits, but not a lot…,” the tip of his knife dipped under your shorts and sliced them in two. With the configuration that they had bound you in, everything was already embarrassingly on show, though even more so now that all of your clothes were cut off your frame. Completely mesmerised as the last shred left your form, Eddie uttered softly, “oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”

“What are you doing?” you struggled against the robes as Steve rose from his seat. 

“It’s a real shame, baby,” his broad hands ran up your inner thigh, “I really did wanna pop your cherry myself, fuck I would have loved that, but I don’t deserve it as much as he does,” his thumbs, creeping up to either side of your core, extended out to wickedly spread you apart, “Satan may get to have your pussy,” you shuttered at the mortifyingly soppy sound that emanated as he briefly ran a finger though your folds, “but this little hole isn’t off limits,” his digit then swept down to draw a feathery circle over your rosebud. 

“Nor this one,” Eddie’s hand found your cheeks in a pinch and forced your lips to pucker, “but we might have to do a bit of convincing in order to be able to play up here,” your body stiffened up as the cold edge of his blade then pressed against your throat, “no teeth, or else we won’t make you feel good, won’t give you a little treat before you help us contact the man downstairs.” 

“How in the fuck do you think I’ll like any of this?” you spat back at him. 

“Uh!” they both laughed and shared a glance before Eddie noted, “I think that might have been the first time I’ve ever heard little miss goody two shoes swear! That’s so cute!”  

“Fuck you,” you wept, “you psycho–, oh!” a moan then ripped through your body and surprised you to the very core.

Glancing down between your legs, you saw that Steve was kissing you down there, his lips latched on to the little pearl that always seemed to throb in his presence. 

“What was that about you not enjoying this?” his sloppy peck detached in an obscene pop, “because you sure are soaked for someone who doesn’t think it feels good to be played with… we’re gonna make you feel good, so good, your virgin ass couldn’t even fucking dream about it…” the sensation of Eddie’s palm snaked down to squeeze your tit, while Steve brought his broad thumb up to bully your glistening clit, grinning at how your untouched hole clenched around nothing for him, “just look at how fucking messy you are for us… fucking leaking all over the place…” a groan then escaped him as one of his digits dipped down to slowly sink into your tight ass, simply testing the waters before the pair of them utterly obliterated you, “fuck… you almost make me wanna keep you forever and just find a different virgin to take your place…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[gretavangroupie]

Imber

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 21.5k

Warnings: Camping Jake, Cursing, Alcohol, Arguing, Pining, Angst, Severe Weather, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I had a thought and couldn't let it go. Special thanks to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for always supporting me and listening to my rambling voice memos. Love you both.

You watch as the familiar white Jeep pulls into your driveway, a cloud of dust filling the air as the car shifts into park. It’s only seconds before Clara is bounding out of the passenger door, running up to meet you on your porch.

“Clara…” you say, a suspicious look on your face.

“Josh said he wanted to tag along since he’s home…I couldn’t say no! Don’t be mad!” she whines nervously, knowing good and well this was supposed to be a girls weekend. 

You squint your eyes at her and let out a faux huff of annoyance, “It’s fine,” you say, sending her a playful smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks, bending down to help you grab your camping supplies. 

“Of course, Clara. I was just kidding around. You know I love Josh, and I know you hardly ever get to do stuff like this together. In fact, if you two want to just go, I can stay–”

“No way. You’re absolutely coming! Don’t start!” she shouts, slinging your duffle bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get you loaded up and on the road.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes organizing your things into the trunk, tetrising a few items until the trunk door would shut. You climb into the backseat, taking up residence next to the cooler packed with food for the weekend. 

“Hi Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash your camping trip!” Josh says, turning around in the driver's seat to flash you a smile. 

“Of course! I mean, if I knew that you were going to be home we could have planned like, a whole thing. It’s really no big deal. The more the merrier!” you answer, feeling Clara’s hand reach back to squeeze yours in thanks.

“Just a little break, only three weeks or so then we are back to it. Germany next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror. 

You listen to him and Clara talk about the next leg of his tour, seeing the city start to taper off outside the car window. The trees are growing thick and the signs of humanity are next to none. 

“So where exactly are we going on this camping adventure, Clara?” you laugh, never really discussing a location in your earlier planning. 

“We’re going out to Leiper’s Fork, have you ever been there?” Josh answers.

“No, but I’ve heard of it!”

“Yeah, it’s a super cool little spot. Super secluded and gorgeous this time of year. Been out here a few times,” he says, letting his hand move to rest on Clara’s thigh. 

“How did you even find this? I feel like we are in the middle of nowhere!” you laugh, letting your eyes focus on the multicolored trees out the window. 

“Oh this is Jake’s spot. He’s always out here. Likes to come out here to write,” he pauses, turning to look at Clara. You can sense the nervous energy in his voice,  “He’s um, he’s actually going to be joining us.”

“Oh?” 

You feel a rush of panic wash over you. To say that your relationship with Jake was a bit rocky would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if there was ever really one thing that started it, one thing that made him dislike you so much, it just kind of evolved into what it is. You always seemed to find yourself in the same room as him, at the same parties with him, and attending the same shows, thanks to Josh and Clara. Though, neither of you ever bothered to speak to each other, let alone acknowledge the other's existence. It turned into an unspoken feud, filled with harsh whispers and judgemental glances, letting Josh and Clara be the buffer between the two of you. 

The thought of him joining you this weekend had you wishing you never agreed to the trip in the first place, and you know that they waited until you were this far out of town to break the news to you. 

“It will be fine babe, don’t worry. He will keep to himself like usual,” Clara says, sending you a guilty look. 

“Clara…”

“She’s right. He is different when we come out here. He might even be nice, who knows,” Josh laughs. It eases your anxiety just enough and you find yourself agreeing to this set up.

“Alright, it’s fine. I mean, it’s only two days anyway.”

–

The three of you spend most of the afternoon setting up your tents, wrestling the skinny fiberglass poles through the brightly colored fabric in fits of laughter. You took up shop beneath an old Oak tree, hoping it would provide a bit of shelter from the sun and the wind. Clara and Josh set up their tent just across from you, closer to the car and the fire pit. 

You organized your things in your tent, listening as Josh got chairs set up around the fire pit. He and Clara pulled the cooler from the car, tossing you a beer and as the sun started to dip in the sky, you talked about dinner and made plans for tomorrow's adventures. 

It was nearly sunset before you heard the rumble of tires as Jake’s Jeep pulled up to the campsite. You all snap your heads in his direction, seeing him jump out of the drivers side with a smirk on his lips. 

“Glad you could join us,” Josh teases. 

“Can’t rush these things,” he counters, nodding his head to Clara as a hello. His eyes flick over you and you watch as the expression on his face changes. His jaw tightens and his lips flatten into a thin line. A grumble of something leaves his lips in a whisper, and you don’t even have to hear it to know what he said wasn't pleasant. 

You look away quickly, turning your attention back to the vegetables you were cutting up for dinner. He turns back towards his car, gathering his things from the trunk as he continues to gripe incoherently. 

You focus on Josh and Clara, who are working on their own dinners, trying to keep the conversation flowing and ease the obvious tension. 

Jake tosses his things to the ground, preparing to set up his tent next to yours. You don’t dare tell him that it’s yours, and he doesn't dare ask. You continue to fill the tin foil with vegetables and meat, letting them marinate just long enough to get the fire started. 

“Jake, let’s go,” Josh says, motioning him over towards him.

“Go where,” he asks. 

“Need to gather firewood and I’m not making Clara carry it,” he says. Jake nods and gets up, jogging over to meet him. The two of them disappear into the thick woods, leaving you and Clara by yourselves at the campsite.

“This is going just great, wouldn’t you say?” you taunt, elbowing Clara from your camp chair. Her gaze is completely fixed on her phone, her eyes frantically flicking around the screen. 

“Hello? Earth to Clara?” you continue, still unable to break her away from her phone. 

She gets up and walks around, holding her phone to the sky in hopes of strengthening her signal.

“What's up, is everything okay?” you shout, starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Yeah, um, it’s fine. I think? I don’t know. I just got a weird text from my sister, and now I don’t have any service,” she says, biting at her bottom lip. 

“You can use mine if you want, I don’t know if my service is any better though. We are kinda in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s– It’s fine. I think,” she says, sitting back down in her chair next to you. 

“Anyway, what were you saying? Sorry, I suck,” she says, turning to look at you apologetically.

Just as you go to speak you hear the crunching of leaves and sticks, and see the shadowy figure of the two men returning with an arm full of firewood. 

“Well, nothing now,” you laugh, motioning to Josh and Jake. 

“Oh, okay, later?” she asks, hoping you will fill her in. 

“Yes, later,” you mumble.

Josh and Jake step up, tossing the wood into a pile next to the fire pit. “That should be enough for two days,” Josh says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. 

Jake’s eyes meet yours, only for a second before storming off to his car. You shake it off and try to focus on Josh as he builds the fire in front of you, using an obnoxious amount of lighter fluid in the process. 

“Clara he is going to light us all on–”

Her phone ringing interrupts you, grabbing her attention as she rushes to answer it. She stands up and walks away towards the car, and you watch as her demeanor shifts into panic. Your eyes meet Josh’s, both of you feeling uneasy about whatever is happening on that phone call. She rushes back over to you, her face fear stricken and her hands visibly shaking. 

“Josh, we have to go! We have to go right now!” she shouts, frantically rushing around and grabbing things from inside their tent.

“What? Clara, what's going on?!” he asks, trying to calm her down. 

“Ashton! She’s going into labor! She’s on her way to the hospital right now! She wasn’t due until next week! I don’t know, I don't know! But we have to go right now!” she says, pulling out of his grip and continuing to grab her things and throw them in the car. 

“Oh shit! Okay, yes, yes we can go, um…” he pauses, looking over towards Jake at his tent and you sitting in the chair in front of him, “Fuck, um…Y/N, do you uh, want to come with us, or–”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I had no idea or I wouldn’t have– fuck, you should just… stay, enjoy the campsite and just relax. I’m so sorry I promise I will make this up to you!” Clara cries, her nervous energy transferring to you. 

It’s mere seconds before her and Josh are jumping into his car and pulling out of the campsite, abandoning their tent, their dinner and the rest of their belongings. 

Fuck.

You stand up from your chair, processing what exactly happened as you stare at the roaring fire. 

“Where uh, where did they go?” Jake asks, appearing from his tent as he hears the car peeling out of the campsite. 

You turn to look at him, shocked that he even spoke to you, while also realizing that now it’s just the two of you. Alone.

“They– Clara’s sister is having her baby. Early. They just…left– I–”

“Left?” he asks, “Like for good?”

“I…think so…” you answer, watching as he drags his hand across his face. The hem of his flannel lifts in the process revealing the tiniest peek at his tanned torso, so you quickly divert your eyes before he notices your staring. 

“Of course,” he gripes, kicking at the pile of firewood. He mutters something under his breath and you feel a wave of embarrassment at the thought of him dreading being around you this much. 

He huffs out a breath and turns to you, “Well, do you want to stay here or–”

“I mean, do you want to stay?” you question, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. 

“I have no issue with staying. I know you were only here for them, so if you want to leave I promise it’s not going to hurt my feelings. I’m used to being out here alone anyway,” he says, his tone a little clipped. “Prefer it.”

“Are you going to be mad if I do want to stay?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You let your eyes meet his for a few seconds, both of you looking at each other as he thinks of his answer.

Again he rubs his hand over his face, shaking his head, “No, no I won’t be fucking mad– I just– Do you want to fucking stay, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Then we’ll stay,” he says, lowering the sound of his voice. His eyes flick around your face for a few seconds before turning to look at the fire. You can tell he is agitated, but when is he not?

“Jesus, he always uses too much fluid,” he gripes, turning his attention to the flames. “Pyromaniac.”

“Well, I guess we can throw these on?” you say, picking up the tin foil packets. 

“Yeah yeah, um, just set ‘em there,” he says, looking up to you from his crouched position next to the fire pit.

“Do you…want a drink or something?” you ask, feeling the awkwardness between you growing quickly. You can feel the hostility pouring off of him, and getting a drink seems to be you only escape plan.

“What’s in there?” he asks, looking over towards the cooler. 

“Beer?” you pause, “I don’t know, Josh packed it.”

“Whatever’s in there is fine,” he says, tossing the foil packets onto the flames.

You make your way to the cooler, grabbing two icy cans and returning to your chair to see Jake sitting in the one on the opposite side of the fire pit. You hand the can to him, seeing a side smile pull across his lips as he nods his head in thanks. 

“Got something stronger in the car if you want it,” he smirks, popping the tab on his can.

The small sliver of a smile nearly takes your breath away. “Oh, um, no this is good. Thank you though.”

It’s quiet between the two of you, both of you sipping at your beers as you watch the fire in front of you. You want to say something to him, start a conversation, maybe even chip away at his tough exterior, but you know that comes with risks. Risks you aren't willing to take while stranded in the woods for the next two days. 

It’s him though, that strikes up a conversation, but it’s not to make small talk, it’s to get answers. 

“Why do you even want to stay if Clara left?” he asks, bringing his can to his lips. 

You take a second to think about it, “Well, because I bought all this camping stuff, mostly. I’ve been looking forward to this little trip. I like being in nature, and I don’t get to do it often enough. Going in the woods alone as a woman isn’t exactly the safest either. So yeah, it sucks they had to leave but I’d rather be here than back at my place staring at my camping supplies sitting at my front door.”

“No other reason?” he asks, lowering his voice a little as he pokes at the foil packs with a stick.

You shake your head slowly, “Not that I can think of, no.”

He scoffs and flips the packets over before sitting back in his chair. You can feel him judging you, and the silence as he snickers at you confirms it. 

“Don’t be like that, Jake. You wanted to stay, too.”

“Yeah, but I come out here all the time. This is my damn spot,” he snaps.

“Well excuse me for intruding! I can call a fucking cab but I don’t think they will find me out here!”

“Jesus, relax,” he groans, “You know what? That's your problem. You’re too…you’re too uptight.”

“I’m uptight?!” you gasp, “What about you?! Mister, brooding misunderstood rockstar, can't stand to be in the same room as a person that doesn't fall at his feet and sing his praises,” you bark. 

“No, see, that's where you’re wrong. I’m not brooding or misunderstood. The people that I want to know me, know me just fine. I just don't put my feelings on display for everyone I meet. I have a certain way I like to live my life. And if that comes across as brooding and misunderstood, then so be it.”

“You know, you’re insufferable sometimes…” you grit.

“Well thank you for your input. I’ll be sure to put that in my diary later,” he snickers. 

“Do you have any respect for anyone?” you shout from across the fire.

“Of course I do. Those who earn it,” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

“You’re so–” you pause, grunting in frustration when you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry I have standards, sweetheart,” he says, taking another long pull of his beer. 

“Standards? What is that supposed to mean?” you shout, feeling yourself getting a little worked up. 

He glances up at you over the fire, “I don't let just anyone come into my life and get all up close and personal. You have to earn that. Which means my standards are a little higher than most.”

You cut your eyes at him, “Why are you like this? All cold and cryptic…I don’t even know what I did to make you dislike me this much.”

His eyes are dark and unyielding, his lips turning into a smile as he laughs, “I never said I dislike you. You just don't like how I present myself because it goes against what you’re used to. You're used to easy going guys, who let you do anything you want because you’re pretty. Not guys who are a little closed off and reserved. You don't want a little bit of a challenge.”

“Who said I even want you at all?” you bite back.

“You didn’t need to say it, sweetheart. You’re easy to read,” he says, sending you a smug grin. 

“Well, find a different book.”

“You’re also a smartass,” he says, leaning forward to pull the foil packets from the fire with a stick. He carefully opens up the hot foil, and checks them to make sure they are cooked through. His eyes flick up to yours, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say begrudgingly, leaning forward to reach for the foil wrapped food. You unroll the foil and reach for the plastic forks, offering one to Jake. He takes it with the raise of his brow, casually picking at the food in the silver wrap. 

“Explains a few things,” he mutters with a smirk. 

“Is this how this is going to be? Are you just going to dig at me all weekend until we go our separate ways?” you ask, starting to feel a little fed up.

“You tell me. Is that what you want?” he asks, biting a carrot from his fork. 

“No, I want us to just get along the best we can. I want this to be at least a little enjoyable.”

He looks at you for a moment and seems to soften a bit. “Fine,” he says, “So what would you like to talk about then, sweetheart?"

You roll your eyes at the pet name you’ve adopted, “I don't know, what do you enjoy talking about? Pretend it's not me. Tell me about life on tour or something.”

He nods and picks at his food, seemingly thinking for a minute before he speaks. “Well,” he begins, “The tour has been good, a few bumps along the way. We hit some bad weather in Huntsville that delayed one of our shows for a night, but other than that it was a good run. I think everyone is holding up fine.”

“What about you, though. Are you holding up fine?” you ask. 

He seems taken aback by the question. He looks at you with a surprised expression, almost as if it’s the first time someone has asked him about himself. He looks down at his food and is quiet for a moment before mumbling, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

“I don't know, you just seem...agitated with everything lately. Every time I see you, you just seem quiet.”

He looks up at you again, holding eye-contact for a minute. He is tempted to deny it, to tell you everything is fine, but he doesn’t. Maybe there’s a part of him that wants to be honest with you. The other part terrified of letting you see through the walls he has worked so hard to build up.

“That’s just how I am,” he says quietly. He glances up at you and then back at the fire again, “That’s how I present myself. And it’s always been that way. It’s how people expect me to be most of the time and I don’t blame them. Most of my music is written about heartache and struggle whether personal or not. It’s everything I am. But I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m always fine.”

You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to pry anymore, feeling satisfied with the little bit he’s allowed you,. “Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence for a few more minutes, the wind starting to pick up, as the leaves rustle behind you. Jake seems to have softened a bit since your earlier banter, and you wonder if he is feeling a little guilty for his hand in the taunting. 

He looks at you again with a raised eyebrow, “What about you, then? Are you fine?”

He’s asking about you? 

“I mean, yeah. I think I'm fine. There are some things I wish were different, but that's life,” you offer, not wanting to delve too far into things. Not that he would care anyway. 

He seems a little taken aback with your response. Not that it surprised him that you have personal problems, but he wasn’t expecting you to be honest with him. Almost anyone else would have painted a perfect picture and made themselves appear significantly better than they actually were. There was a moment between you two when the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the chirping of Cicadas before he quietly spoke again.

“What do you wish were different?”

“Ahh, it’s nothing really. Just sometimes I wonder if I am where I am supposed to be. You know, the normal stuff,” you say, offering him a smile.  

He looks at you for a beat and nods slowly, seeming to take that in. “I don’t think anyone truly knows if they’re where they’re meant to be. One of the mysteries of life, I suppose.”

“What?” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “What were you going to say? You look like you wanted to ask something.” 

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, looking back into the fire and away from you. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head as if dismissing whatever he was just thinking and stands up. He walks towards the treeline with an unreadable expression on his face, and you wonder what he could possibly be thinking. The wind sends a shiver through you, and you decide to grab the s'mores ingredients from the cooler before he comes back. If he comes back. 

He walks away, disappearing into the trees as he goes to relieve himself. He stands there for a moment, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cool night air. He runs a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath as he replays your conversation. He hates that you can break him down so easily, that you seem to understand him better than he understands himself, and worse that you even care enough to ask. 

He zips up and turns to head back towards the tent, feeling frustrated and conflicted. He knows he's being unfair to you, knows that he's acting cold and distant for no good reason. But he can't help it. It’s all he can do. He doesn't want to get close to people, doesn't want to let them in. Especially not you. 

You work quickly trying to place the marshmallows on sticks, finding it to be a lot harder than you thought. With a little elbow grease and a dream you shoved the sticky blobs on the ends of the sticks, dangling them gingerly over the open flames. 

With both hands occupied it's hard to shield your arms from the cool wind that is dancing through your campsite. A chill rises to your skin despite the warmth of the fire. You quickly forget about it though as you see Jake reappearing through the treeline. He walks up with his hands in his pockets, his eyes studying you as you roast the two marshmallows. 

“What are you up to now?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“I mean…Roasting marshmallows, what do you mean?” you ask, confused as to why he was confused. 

His eyes roam over you and a small smirk appears at the corner of his mouth. He leans a little bit closer to study what you’re doing, laughing under his breath.

“You’re going to burn them, sweetheart.”

“No I’m not. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” you quip, rotating the sticks. 

He laughs and shakes his head, “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a mess of black, gooey, sugar.”

He moves a little closer behind you, until his chest is mere inches away from your back. His voice drops to a teasing whisper against your ear. “But, by all means, continue.”

If the goosebumps weren’t already taking up residency on your body, they would be now. He takes the chair next to you this time, instead of his previous one across from you. You don’t question it, and he doesn’t mention it, so you leave it at that. 

You watch as the marshmallows start to puff up, knowing they are done and ready to be put on the graham cracker, but that's when you realize you only have two hands, and this is in fact, about to go south quickly.

“Here, hand one to me,” he says, grabbing the stick from your hand. “Put that one together, and then do this one.”

You work quickly to assemble the marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker, your fingers growing into a sticky, sugary mess as it starts to deflate. It’s melting the chocolate perfectly, and you think you may have just made the perfect s’more. The wind starts to whip a little harder, blowing your hair around your face just a little too much. Jake hands you the stick back, letting you assemble the other s’more, trying to push your hair out of your face with your wrist. 

From his spot next to you, you can feel his eyes on you. Watching you struggle, giggling a little under his breath as you fight through the mess of hair in your eyes. 

You place the chocolate on the cracker before trying to position the marshmallow on top, a huff of frustration falling from your lips as you push your hair back with the side of your arm. “Fuck,” you growl. 

You hear him laugh again, but this time it's accompanied with him standing up from his seat. You turn your head and watch as he pulls a black hair tie from his finger. His fingers brush against your neck for a moment, gathering your hair into his fist and pulling it up into a quick ponytail. It is an unexpectedly sweet and careful gesture on his part, taking you completely by surprise. 

He steps back and looks over you, now with your hair out of the way. “There,” he says, taking his seat once more.

“Th–thank you,” you squeak out, still reeling over the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

There is a beat of silence between you where he just looks at you. His eyes drift from your face down to your fingers and the gooey mess you had created from assembling the s’mores. 

He suddenly snickers,“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

You shrug your shoulders and offer him the perfect s’more, reaching for your own and sinking your teeth into the melty goodness. You were right, it was perfect. Probably the best you’d ever made. Screw him for saying you were going to burn it. 

You turn to look at him, ready to see his reaction to the perfectly made treat. He bites into it, staring at the fire as he chews, swallowing down his first bite before he turns to you. 

“You know, I kind of hate these,” he smirks. 

“What?” you ask, taking another bite. 

“I never have liked them. My whole life, really.”

“Then why– Why are you eating it? You didn’t have to eat it,” you say, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“I dunno. I want to. I guess ‘cause you made it for me.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, watching him intentionally take another bite as he settles back in his camp chair. There is a new tension floating in the air now, it's less uncomfortable and more heavy with things unsaid. 

He turns to look at you again, his face glowing in the orange fire light, “It actually isn’t terrible. I will admit.”

“So what you’re saying is that you love my cooking?” you tease.

He laughs, as he swallows his last bite, “Well, I didn’t say that. The fact that you call this cooking is questionable.” His tone is teasing, and you watch as he licks a dribble of chocolate from his thumb. It causes more of a reaction within you than you ever anticipated, and again you thank the wind for causing the goosebumps. 

“I think I have some paper towels  in the car, I’ll be right back.” he says, standing and walking over to his car. You can hear him digging around in his trunk as you stare off at the trees in the distance, trying to make any sense of the feelings rushing through your body right now. Why is he sort of sweet? Why is he sort of really sexy when he’s not being an asshole?

A flash in the trees catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts and raising your blood pressure. You stare intently, watching for it again, hearing Jake approaching from your left. You see the flash again, accompanied by two others, and a smile crosses your face. 

Jake steps up behind you, tossing a thick flannel in your lap as he takes his spot next to you, offering you a handful of wet wipes to clean your sticky fingers. You glance down at the shirt laying across your legs and turn to him in surprise.

“Noticed you were cold, that's all.”

You clean your hands the best you can before sliding the thick flannel shirt over your arms, letting the warmth and the smell envelop your senses. This was not helping with the thoughts you were having a few minutes ago. You turn your sights back to the trees, watching the little orbs buzz around overhead.

“Fireflies…” you whisper, watching a few zaps of yellow buzz around in the old Oak trees.

He hums as he sees them light up, “They are in all of the trees out here. One of my favorite things,” he admits.

“Jake?”

He turns to look at you, nodding for you to continue. 

“Why do you come out here alone all the time?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

His expression darkens slightly as he hears the question, and he is quiet for a moment before answering. “It’s just peaceful I guess,” He shrugs and looks out into the darkness of the trees instead of you. “Not everyone is cut out to be around people all the time.”

“You don’t ever get lonely?”

A beat of silence passes and he glances back at you. This time, his usual smirk has disappeared and is replaced by a more serious look. He doesn’t answer the question, but there is a look in his eyes that makes you think maybe he is more lonely than he wants to let on.

“I’m comfortable with my own company,” he says quietly. The fire is still smoldering in front of the two of you, the flames gone now, leaving a pile of glowing embers snapping and popping as they work to extinguish themselves. 

You pull the sleeves of his flannel over your hands, catching his attention and pulling a tiny smirk to the corners of his lips. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to focus on the fireflies again. It feels nice sitting with him like this. Just talking, no witty remarks or snappy comebacks. Just two people, talking. 

“Don’t you ever wish you had someone to share this with, though? Your spot?” you ask, giving him a playful grin.

He watches you for a moment, considering the question. There is a part of him that wants to be defensive and cold, shutting you out and telling you he doesn’t want that. But the look in your eyes and the softness of your tone tells him he can’t lie to you about this. He breaks eye contact momentarily, his gaze falling downward to his hands in his lap.

“Sometimes…” he mumbles under his breath. 

You aren’t sure why, but that goes straight to your heart. Sure he said he was fine earlier, but now you’re starting to see that maybe that isn’t completely true. It’s quiet for a moment, and you spend each second gathering up the courage to continue the conversation.

He glances at you again, this time having a look on his face that says he wishes he hadn’t confessed that to you. He suddenly becomes much more uncomfortable, trying to cover it up by acting nonchalant, adjusting his position in his chair and fidgeting with the fire. He clears his throat and looks to you again, “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

It catches you off guard. Him not only abruptly ending the conversation, but the rest of the evening. You know he is right, you probably should go to sleep, but part of you feels like the conversation is unfinished, and you think he knows that, too. 

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.” you say, standing from your chair with a stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your skin. “Is the fire going to be okay?”

He laughs a little, nodding his head, “Yeah, yeah. Just embers now. It will smolder out in an hour or two,” he says. 

You nod your head and pull your flannel covered arms across your chest tightly. You start to make your way over to your tent, your mind flooded with the vision of him just moments ago, soft and glowing in the firelight. You look back at him, still standing at the fire, watching you walk to your tent. He nods with a smirk and starts walking toward his own tent. Before going in, he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Night.”

“Night, Jake,” you answer, reaching for the zipper. He nods and watches as you step inside, waiting until you’re safely inside before he lets out a deep sigh.

He can’t quite put his finger on why he suddenly feels so off-kilter. You’ve shaken him in a way no other has been able to. There was something about that conversation earlier, you asking what he wanted. How he was doing.  How he feels. The way your features softened as you listened to him and made him want to tell you the truth. He didn’t like how it made him feel, like every falsity he had built up about you in his mind was exactly that. He had spent so long pushing you away and talking you down to himself that now, here, where he can’t escape you, he is faced with the fact that you’re exactly the girl he thought you were, and everything he has always known deep down is true.. 

Inside your tent, you rummage around in your duffle bag looking for something to sleep in. As you pull an old t-shirt from the bag you pull his flannel from your body, setting it aside while you change. You don’t know why, but you find yourself reaching for it again and layering it over your shirt. You pull it to your nose to breathe it in now that you’re alone in the confines of your tent. It smells of smoke and tobacco, a sweet earthy undertone pulling you into its spell as your eyes flutter closed.

You can hear him zipping his tent, the faint glow of his lantern casting a shadow of his figure against the tent fabric. You hear the buckle of his belt as he pulls it from the loops on his jeans, and you do your best to look away. But with the smell of his cologne invading your senses, you claim temporary insanity and watch as his shadow pulls his shirt over his head and slides out of his jeans. You swallow heavily as you watch his shadow settle down into his sleeping bag and turn off the lantern.

You do the same, turning off your headlamp and getting inside your sleeping bag, doing your best to get comfortable. Even though the air is warm, the ground is cold and you shiver slightly.  It’s difficult to get comfortable in the new environment and you find yourself rolling over and shifting around a lot, almost matching the state of your brain. Eventually, the sound of the cicadas lure you to sleep, and as your eyes shut it's a soft, fireside Jake that is on your mind. 

—

The birds chirping in the tree above you wakes you. Your eyes crack open and you immediately notice the cool chill in the air. You sit up and yawn, stretching out your limbs and buttoning the buttons on the flannel for a little extra warmth. As you step outside of your tent a cool fog envelops you, causing you to shiver. You see a small fire has been built in the fire pit already, so you gather that Jake is already awake.

You make your way to your camp chair, noticing it has been wiped of the dew already, and is ready for you to occupy it. Your eyes search the foggy landscape for any sight of him, finding him standing at the tailgate of his Jeep fiddling with something. He catches sight of you, and nods, motioning that he will be over soon. 

Minutes later he is approaching with two camp mugs filled with what you can only assume is coffee. The steam is swirling from the tops of the mugs blending in with the fog surrounding you. 

“Morning,” he says, offering you the blue speckled mug. 

“Morning,” you smile, accepting it from his hand. “You have all the accessories, don’t you?”

He smiles, and nods gently, “I’m very serious when I commit to things.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is.” His gaze travels over you for a moment. He can’t help but appreciate just how good you look in the morning. The messy hair and the sleepy expression, combined with his flannel, you’re practically driving him insane.

“Do you think we will be able to see the sunrise through the fog?” you ask, sipping at the black coffee.

He squints thoughtfully out into the fog, taking in the thickness of it. He can’t see anything through the haze and honestly doubts you will be able to see much of anything.

“Hard to say,” he shrugs. “Depends on how long it hangs on.”

You nod in understanding, returning to the quiet morning, listening to the chirping of the birds in the distance. “You know it is really beautiful out here, I see why you come out here.”

He smiles a little, appreciating your change of attitude from last night.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a hint of a smirk. He glances back out into the fog where everything is hazy and unclear. “It’s nice and quiet here. No one around for miles, other than us of course. I like that best of all.”

“You know, I might even come back here one day,” you smile, feeling your chest grow warm at his last words. 

He suddenly looks surprised that you’re considering returning. He usually had a comeback for anything you said, but for this, he was quiet for a moment, considering your words.

He glances around at the surrounding area, the trees and shrubs all covered in the dense fog. He feels almost defensive about you seeing this place as beautiful. It was his place, his special place, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so weird that you were appreciating it. He falls silent for a moment as he watches you enjoy the surroundings, sipping the coffee he made for you as you sit in his flannel. The peaceful look on your face as you look out into the fog causes his chest to feel warm. He would never admit it, but he wants to bring you back here as often as you want to come.

He clears his throat and looks back at you. “Maybe we can take a walk before it clears up.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your chest, your cheeks burning at the thought that he might actually want to spend the day with you. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Anything cool to see out here?”

He takes a moment to think, rubbing his fingers against his lips, “There’s a pretty decent hike to a creek not too far, we could go that way. Only if you’re not scared of a little wilderness along the way,” he smirked.

“I’m not scared,” you answer, raising a brow in challenge. 

“You bring a bathing suit?” he asks, tipping back the last of his coffee.

“Of course,” you laugh. 

“Good, I’ll meet you back out here in say, fifteen?” he says, standing from his chair.

You nod and both make your way back to your tents, changing into your bikini that you fully did not prepare to wear in front of a man, let alone Jake. You pull a pair of denim shorts and a cut off tee over top, grabbing your hiking boots and your backpack as you make your way back out to the camp chairs. 

Jake is still in his tent, so you use the time to lace up your boots and pack a few snacks into your bag. It’s not long before Jake is stepping out, in a pair of red swim trunks and a black button down, barely hanging on to his tan frame. It seems a strange ensemble for hiking, but he is unlike any other man you knew, and it kind of just fit.

He joins you at the chairs, putting on his own hiking boots. You feel his hand reach over to check the tautness of your shoestrings, grabbing your attention. 

He looks up at you from his bent over position, “Just making sure they are tight enough, don’t need you getting blisters before we even make it to the trail head,” he smiles. 

With your bag packed and your sunglasses perched on your nose, the two of you set off into the treeline, leaving your camp behind in search of adventure. You head down the winding trail that is lined with overgrowth on either side. You can tell that not many people walk this path, and you wonder how Jake even found it in the first place. The thick brush and branches scratch at your legs as you trudge on, but you welcome it. This is what you wanted, after all.

He walks just a step behind you, watching your feet as you walk along the trail. He can’t help but notice how your legs look in your denim shorts, and he does his best not to stare. Not that you would notice. 

You turn around to look at him, noticing him a few strides behind you, “You gonna keep up with me Kiszka?”

He scoffs playfully, a bit miffed at that comment, “I’ve walked this trail a hundred times, pretty sure I can handle it.”

He takes a few quick steps to catch up to you, walking next to you now rather than a few steps behind. His shoulder brushes against yours as he walks, catching you both by surprise. 

“Why am I leading the way anyway if you know where we are going?” you tease. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You’re not ‘leading the way’ sweetheart, I’m guiding you.”

You huff in annoyance, “Guiding me? I’m not a dog…”

He smirked, thinking about how you definitely weren’t as obedient as a dog. You were much harder to control and a hell of a lot more stubborn.

He suddenly snickered and said, “Never said you were, I just don’t trust you not to wander off.”

“And go where? You’re all I’ve got out here!” you giggle, the words leaving your lips before you consider the weight of them. 

He snickered again with amusement, though his heart skipped a beat when you said that. You were all he had as well. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks as he walked next to you, avoiding any more of the shrubs that were trying to grab onto him.

“There’s plenty of places to get lost around here if you wander off the trail. That’s why I’m making sure you don’t drift away too far.”

“Why would I want to?” you ask, a hint of flirtation evident in your tone.

He picks up on your flirty tone, letting a smirk pull across his lips. He glances over at you with a look in his eye as he registers what you meant by that comment.

“If I didn't know any better I would say you're enjoying spending time with me, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you quip. 

He snickers and glances over at you again, seeing that look on your face he's all too familiar with. “I don’t have to flatter myself, sweetheart. You’re the one getting all flirty.” He grins.

“Flirty? I’m not being flirty,” you lie.

He snickers again, seeing through your lie immediately. “You have a terrible poker face,” he says. He walks closer to you as he speaks, his leg brushing yours as you walk. 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the contact and you wonder if he feels it too. You decide to change the subject, worried that this conversation may have you backed into a corner. 

“Tell me how you learned to play guitar so well,” you ask, hoping he will be willing to accept your topic change. 

He lifts his gaze to the trees as he contemplates your question. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he still remembers those nights all too well.

“Practice, mostly. Spent hours and hours alone in my bedroom just practicing until my arms were sore and my hands locked up. But how do you know that I play well? You watch me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, letting your hands push away a few branches, “I mean, you have to play pretty well if you're selling out arenas…”

He lets out a scoff and a smirk. He was used to people complimenting his skill but for some reason, hearing you do it makes him feel a little flustered.

“I suppose so, but you didn't answer my question,” He chuckles.

“What, have I watched you play? Of course I have. I've been to a few shows with Clara.”

He seems surprised by your confession. In that moment, he begins to wonder how many times your eyes have sought him out through the lights and over the crowd.

He clears his throat and says, “Clara dragged you out to them?”

“No, I went willingly,” you admit. 

There’s a moment of silence as he processes what you just admitted. For some reason, the thought of you going to one of his shows because you wanted to go was making his heart pound a little harder in his chest.

He looks at you with a smirk to mask how thrown off he was by that.  “How come I never saw you backstage?”

You look at him with a confused look, "Did you ever look?"

Something about that question stung. The way you said the words so casually felt like a knife through his chest. He shakes his head as he responds, “No. No, you weren't there. I would remember.”

“You're right. I never went back with Clara after the shows. Didn't want to put myself in that position. I mean, that's your space, ya know? And you and I can barely be in the same room together. We haven't even had a civil conversation until, well, right now.”

He stays silent for a moment, processing your confession. After a minute he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I never wanted it to be like that sweetheart.”

You huff a laugh, “Your actions over the last, oh I don’t know, two years have shown otherwise.”

He grimaces when you say that, knowing that you’re right. He knows he has been a jackass to you, but for some reason hearing you confront him about it was causing a strong pang of guilt to flare up deep within his chest. He tries to shrug it off and maintain his cool, but even he can’t deny that your words were hitting him right where it hurt. 

The two of you walk for a few moments in silence, the only sound being the crunch of branches and twigs under your feet. He glances over at you, watching the way your face looked as you focused on where you stepped along the path, and he suddenly blurts out a question.

“Why is it so easy for you to make me feel guilty?”

What?

You snap your head to look at him, “I don’t know, you tell me?”

He lets out a scoff and shakes his head, pushing a limb out of the way to let you pass. “You’ve just got this way of bringing out sides of me that I don’t understand,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a wave of nerves wash over you. 

He falls silent as he considers how to explain what he means. It’s a hard thing to describe. It’s more than just the way you make him feel things he doesn’t usually feel around other people. It’s more than just the way you look at him, or talk to him, that makes his heart beat harder. It’s more and he knows it.

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” he pauses, “We’re here.”

You decide to let it slide, not wanting to push him into a bad mood. The two of you walk up to the edge of the rocky creek, taking in the sights. There’s a small waterfall trickling over the rocks to your right, leading out into a swimming spot and you almost moan at how appealing a dip sounds after that hike.

Jake stands just beside you, his gaze skimming over the water. He takes in the rushing sound of the creek as it flows past the large rocks and branches. He’s secretly looking at you out of the corner of his eye, watching you stare out at the creek just like he did the first time he saw it. He takes a moment to just watch you. The way your hair looks in the sunlight is catching his eye, the way your lashes flutter as you blink, the look on your face that’s soft and calm. Watching you out here in this setting is making all sorts of different emotions swirl around inside him, but he just can’t bring himself to name any of them.

“This was worth the hike,” you say, turning to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his eyes on you as you admire the creek. The way the sunlight dances against your skin makes you look as if you’re glowing. He can’t pull his eyes away from how goddamn good you look and how peaceful you seem despite everything that had happened between you two.

“Yeah. I suppose it was worth it, wasn’t it?” He agrees reluctantly.

You pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. You know you want to jump in, but you will wait for him to go first. 

He’s completely caught off guard by your actions, his eyes growing wide. His gaze instantly travels down to take in your bare torso, raking over your skin and lingering for just a beat too long. He immediately clears his throat and looks away, shifting uncomfortably as he feels an unfamiliar pang of heated desire in his stomach.

“You ready to swim?” he asks. You unlace your boots and leave them on the embankment, turning to look at him as he does the same. 

“Very,” you say, nodding towards the water.

He takes a moment to compose himself and avoid staring at you while you are basically half-naked. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing his tanned chest and arms, and sets it down beside yours on the bank of the creek.

He dips a toe into the water cautiously to test the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but it feels refreshing on his skin after all the walking you had done to get here.

“Good, let me show you why we really came here,” he says, motioning for you to follow him up a footpath. You quickly kick off your shorts and follow after him, curious as to where he is taking you. As you reach the end of the small dirt path your eyes land on the old rope hanging from the branch of an Oak tree.

“No, no way,” you stammer. 

A mischievous smirk quirks up on his face as you look at the rope. He can tell that you’re nervous just by the look in your eyes. But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it cute.

“Oh come on, what happened to ‘I’m not scared’?” he teases. 

“I’m not! But this is different!” you whine. 

He walks up to the rope, grabbing a hold of it and giving it a few solid pulls to test how sturdy it is. He glances over his shoulder at you to watch your face, seeing the anxiety there in your expression.

He smirks and motions towards the creek below him, “See that spot down there? It’s perfect for jumping. It’s safe. I’ve done it a hundred times. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you say, biting at your bottom lip. 

He grins as he watches you bite your lip. Seeing you looking so nervous and cute was making his heart twist. He steps closer to you, still holding the rope in his hands. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll go first, okay?”

You nod and watch as he wraps his hands around the brown rope. He turns and looks back at you with an excited expression, “I’ll see you down there?”

“Okay,” you murmur, watching as he gets a running start and flies through the air before dropping down into the creek with a splash. You run to peer over the edge, watching him come up from the water with a shake of his hair. He smiles and waves you down, practically begging you to join him. 

“Come on, you can do it! I–I’ll catch you! Promise!” he shouts, “Jump, sweetheart!”

You let out a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you wait for the rope to stop swinging so you can grab it. As you reach for it you hear him cheering, still floating in the water where he landed. 

“Jump!” he yells, smiling up at you as he treads in the water. He grins as he watches you dangle from the rope, nervous to let go and jump into the water. “You’re gonna be fine! Just let go and I’ll catch you. I promise,” he yells.

With that you run, jumping off of the rock with the rope clutched tightly in your fists. Time almost seems to slow down when you jump, your body floating through the air and for a moment, it feels exhilarating.

“Let go, now!” he shouts, and so you do.

Jake waits with his arms open wide, watching as you fall down towards him from above. He can see the mixture of fear and courage on your face as you plummet towards him. He braces himself as you fall into his arms, catching you as best he can in the deep water. He pulls you close to him, his hands gripping your bare waist as your bodies press together. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he holds you, your chest against his and your faces just inches apart. He can feel your heart pounding as he looks into your eyes.

The moment you’re in his arms, something within him snaps. All of a sudden, everything feels heightened. The feel of your body against his, the way you’re looking at him, the sound of your breathing as it slightly catches in your chest. The air between you seems almost electrified and he can feel the tension brewing in his gut.

“You caught me,” you breathe, recognizing just how close the two of you are. 

He can’t help but smirk and let out a low chuckle, still holding you against him. “I told you I would.”

You can feel your body pressed against his, the wet fabric of your bikini sticking to your skin. It’s making your brain go fuzzy and your skin tingle in a way you can’t explain.

“Thank you,” you whisper, neither of you making a move to let go of each other. 

He swallows, the tension between you feeling almost palpable. His pulse is pumping, and his breath catches in his throat as he holds onto you. He wants so badly to press you against him further and hold you tighter. Closer.

He couldn’t help glancing down at your lips, his gaze drifting down from your eyes to linger there just for a moment. You let your tongue dart out over your lips, swiping away the water dripping over them. 

He lets out a low, deep breath as he watches you. That small action has his heart racing even more, and every instinct inside him telling him to bring you closer. To claim your lips with his and taste you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

“Dangerous for who?” you question, biting on your lip.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. He pulls you in closer, and you know he can feel your nipples hard and wet against his chest. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, the cool water from the creek dripping down from your skin and onto his. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and his pulse thrumming in his veins. 

He leans his head down so that his lips are mere millimeters away from yours and whispers huskily, “You. For you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly he releases his grip on you, swimming on his back further down the creek. Your heart is still racing in your chest from the contact. You felt something just now, and you know he did too. You feel a sick feeling in your chest at the loss of his touch. You tread water for a moment as you watch him swim away, feeling the coolness of the water against your skin and the sun beating down above you. Your mind is racing and you’re trying to process all of the different emotions and sensations that he stirred up within you just now.

Jake turns, breaking the surface to look back at you. “You coming?” he calls out to you with a smirk.

You nod, starting to swim towards him, taking notice of the smile on his face and the small dimple in his cheek. For some reason you feel the need to be close to him, you want his hands on you again, and you think maybe he does too.

He watches as you swim towards him, your body moving gracefully through the water. He can feel his heart rate increasing as he watches you approach, and he has a sudden urge to reach out and pull you against him. But instead, he composes himself and continues to tread water as you swim up to him.

He grins as you get to him, his gaze drifting over your body. “Took you long enough,” he teases.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you taunt, treading water next to him.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

You shrug your shoulders in the water, and with that he spins around and starts swimming further down the creek, moving towards a more secluded area. He glances over his shoulder at you as he swims, making sure you’re following him. He swims over towards the bank, pulling himself up on a collection of flat rocks. It’s a nice shady spot, and you can tell the rocks will be warm to the touch. 

He looks back at you, extending his hand to help pull you from the water. You take it, letting him pull your wet body up onto the rocks with him. He keeps hold of your hand for just a moment longer than necessary, hoping you didn’t notice, but of course you do. 

“This,” he pauses, “Is my favorite place.” He grins and motions for you to sit down, taking a seat himself. Once you’re settled, he looks out at the creek that flows past you. 

“I found it a long time ago. No one’s ever here. It’s like a little hidden treasure, I don’t even know if anyone else knows it’s here,” he says with a smile. “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever shown this to.”

“What? No one else?” You question. 

He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “No one. It’s my little secret hideout.” He looks over at you and grins, his eyes taking in your figure sitting next to him. “I guess now it’s our secret hideout.”

“Oh, ours now, huh?” you tease, turning to look at him as the sun hits his cheeks. 

He laughs, his eyes still wandering over you, taking in the way the water is dripping down your sun kissed skin.

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, ours. No getting out of it now,” he says with a smirk.

You decide to push the envelope a little, swallowing nervously as you speak, “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he hears your flirty tone. He shifts his body towards you, his gaze drifting over your face and then down towards your chest and legs, still damp from the water.

He raises an eyebrow at you and responds in a low voice, “Good. I don’t think I’d let you, anyway.”

You decide to let the conversation end there, your pulse pounding as you look at him, the droplets of water drying on his chest. He’s hot, and you know that he knows it. The smirk on his lips hasn’t left since you made your way to the rocks and you can feel the tension between the two of you growing by the second. 

He swallows, feeling his heart begin to beat quicker as he looks at you. He wants so badly to reach out and touch you, but he holds back, knowing that doing so would probably drive him over the edge. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He’s not used to feeling this out of control when he’s with a woman. Normally he’s the one in charge, the one in control. But there’s something about you that makes him feel like he’s losing his grip, like he’s teetering on the edge of something new and different, and he can’t help but be drawn to it.

He shifts his body closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face as he speaks. “You want to swim some more or do you want to head back?”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, truly feeling like anything would be fun as long as it was him you were doing it with. 

He grins at you, the sparkle in his eye betraying his true desire. He wants to touch you, to pull you against him and feel your body pressed against his. But instead of saying that, he shrugs, “I’m good with whatever you want. Can’t promise we won’t find ourselves in the water again, though.”

With that you push up off the rocks and dive back into the creek, pushing the hair from your face as you resurface from the water. You splash the water up at him, soaking him and causing him to jump. 

“Oi!” he shouts, a bit of an accent peeking out from somewhere. 

“What’s wrong Kiszka? Can’t handle a little innocent splashing?” you taunt, trying to lure him into the water. What you don’t expect is for him to jump to his feet with a vengeful look in his eye. 

“Oh you just wait, sweetheart,” he pauses, charging towards you, “We will see how innocent–” 

You cut him off with another playful splash, drenching him again.  

He wipes the water from his face, shaking his head as if you have pushed him too far, “Mmhm, okay, now you’ve done it.” 

He jumps into the water next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he drags you beneath the surface. He pulls you down with him, holding you tight around the waist as you sink beneath the surface. The feeling of your body against his is intoxicating, and he revels in the sensation for a moment before popping back up and pulling you with him.

As you break the surface, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as you gasp for air. He grins, his smirk returning as he looks down at you. “Payback’s a hell of a thing, sweetheart.”

You push playfully at his shoulders, feeling his hands still holding your waist. A wicked grin is on his lips, and you're certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful. He laughs as you push at him, not loosening his grip on your waist one bit. He can feel the way your body feels against his, soft and warm in stark contrast to the coolness of the water.

“Watch yourself, dove,” he warns, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “You’re playing with fire.”

“How do we keep finding ourselves here,” you breathe. 

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he holds you in his arms. You feels the tension between you building, the heat of your bodies close together making your heart race in your chest.

He takes a deep breath, letting out a low chuckle as he replies, “I dunno, sweetheart, I sure don’t know.” His hand moves up to tuck a lock of your wet hair behind your ear. It feels like he wants to say more, but stops himself, settling for something else instead. “You want to head back?”

You feel a pang shoot through your chest, you don’t want to leave this spot, not now, not ever. “Sure,” you answer, and you wonder if he feels the same. 

He nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. He had hoped you would say you didn’t want to leave, that you wanted to stay here just as much as he did. But he doesn’t argue with you, and instead just starts swimming towards the bank. 

“C’mon, it’s starting to get dark anyway, we should get back.” he says, letting you follow behind him. 

You find your belongings right where you left them, but the thought of putting clothes over your wet bikini has you cringing. Instead, you shove them into your backpack, holding Jake’s shirt up, silently asking him if he wants it. He shakes his head as he ties his boots, his hair still dripping down his back. You put on your own boots and sling the backpack over your shoulders, taking one last look at the creek you’d never forget. 

“You ready?” he asks, starting down the path. You nod and follow behind him, the trail lit by the perfect afternoon sun. Your hair is drying in waves around your face, much the same as his. 

He leads the way down the trail, his boots crunching on the ground below. His mind is wandering as he walks, stuck between the memory of holding you in the water just moments ago and the thought of possibly never doing it again. He sneaks glances at you out of the corner of his eye, admiring the way the sunlight is casting warm rays over your hair and face.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Jake,” you say, giving him a soft smile.

He turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips. He’s a little surprised at your sudden show of gratitude.

He shrugs a little, “You’re welcome. I come here whenever I need a break from things. It’s nice to have somewhere peaceful to escape to…” He trails off and looks away for a moment before continuing. “And nice to have someone to share it with.”

The two of you walk in content silence for most of the trail, the sun starting to dip lower and lower into the sky as the minutes pass. You notice a few clouds overhead, and thank them for a reprieve from the sun. You can feel yourself growing more and more tired with every step and before you know it you’re falling behind Jake. 

It’s as if he can hear your footsteps slowing behind him, and he stops walking, turning to look back at you. You’re several feet behind him now, your steps much more weary than they were earlier.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you. “You good, pretty girl?”

Your heart hammers in your chest at the pet name, but the fatigue is setting in so quickly you pay it no mind. “I don't know, I think so. I am just so exhausted suddenly.”

He sees the fatigue etched on your face, the way your steps are slowing down. He takes a step back towards you, concern evident in his eyes.

“You want to stop for a minute?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.

“How much farther is it? I can probably make it,” you ask. 

He takes a moment to think before responding, his eyes scanning over your face and your tired expression. He can tell you’re exhausted, but he also knows that you’re stubborn and determined to get back. “About another half mile, maybe a little less,” he replies. “You sure you can make it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, let’s just keep going,” you say, starting to walk again. It feels like you’re carrying a bag of bricks on your back, but you push through. 

So he silently falls into step beside you, watching like a hawk for any sign of your energy giving out on you. But that's when it hits him, "What if I carried you?"

“Carried me?” you ask.

He looks at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah, carried you. I could give you a piggyback ride the rest of the way.”

“Jake, no…” you whine, deep down loving the idea. 

He laughs aloud at your protest, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, come on, sweetheart, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. I bet your legs are going to give out on you any second now.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, feeling hesitant, but he is offering.

He grins, seeing the wheels turning in your head. “I'm sure. C’mere.” He motions for you to turn around, holding his arms open for you to climb onto his back.

You feel his arms wrap around your legs as you climb onto his back, feeling the warmth of his skin against your chest. You practically melt into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as your nose brushes against his hair, still wet from the creek.

He grunts a bit as you climb onto his back, the weight of you against him sending a wave of warmth through his body. He wraps his arms tightly around your legs, securely holding you in place, and is suddenly acutely aware of how close you are to each other. He can feel your breath on the back of his neck and the way your chest is pressed against his shoulders, the sensation making his heart beat a little faster than usual.

“Are you sure this is okay?" you ask, splaying your hand against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his skin. He nods, his voice a little huskier than usual. “Yeah, it's fine. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart.”

He adjusts his grip on you slightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You walk like that for a little bit, your body quickly succumbing to the rhythmic bouncing from every step he takes. You find your eyes growing heavy, and your head starting to droop, and before you know it, your head is resting on his warm shoulder. 

He can't help but smile to himself as he realizes you've fallen asleep on his back. He adjusts his grip on you, trying to keep you as secure as possible as he continues walking down the trail, humming softly and feeling oddly content with the situation he has found himself in. 

It feels like seconds have passed before he gently taps your leg, waking you up as he speaks. “Hey, sleepyhead. We made it.”

He waits for you to regain your bearings and loosen your grip on him before carefully lowering you down from his back, his hands lingering at your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

“That felt like two minutes, tops,” you giggle.

He laughs, a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate. “Yeah, you passed out pretty fast there,” he pauses, “You hungry? I’m starving.”

“Starving,” you answer, maybe a little too quickly. 

He laughs again, the sound still as charming as usual. “Yeah, figured as much. Let's get something going.” 

He makes his way to the cooler, opening it up and pulling a pack of hotdogs from inside, “This looks like it,” he smiles, “Let me get the fire going and we will be cooking in no time.”

“Thanks for carrying me, Jake. Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you say, lowering your voice a little. 

He grins as he sets the hot dogs down, looking up at you. “No problem. And no need to apologize for dozing off.” He glances up as he strikes a match, igniting the kindling. “It was kind of...cute.”

Cute? Oh.

A strong gust of wind blows through the campsite, taking both of you by surprise, tossing a camp chair to its side. 

“Damn,” he says, moving to pick up the chair. He looks up to the sky, the clouds growing heavy and darkening. “We may be in for a bit of rain.”

“Tents are waterproof, right?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles at your question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, tents are waterproof.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whine. 

He grins, enjoying your playful pout. “I can't help it, you make it too easy.”

He looks at you again, the fire casting a warm glow over his features. “How about you go change into some dry clothes, these hotdogs will be done soon.”

You nod and head into your tent, stripping out of your bathing suit and pulling a t-shirt over your sun warmed skin. You add a pair of leggings and his flannel before stepping back out and seeing him assemble the hotdogs. Your stomach is growling, and you quickly realize you hadn’t eaten all day. 

He looks up as you come out of your tent, his eyes lingering on the way his flannel covers your form. He can feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you in his shirt, but quickly composes himself.

He grins as he sees your expression, your hunger evident. “Ready?”

You nod as he hands you a paper plate, taking the seat next to you at the fire. The air is cooler than it was last night, and the humidity is growing by the second. Both of you quickly eat, very few words shared between the two of you. 

You both toss the paper plates into the fire, making quick work of cleaning up. He disappears into his tent for a few minutes, emerging in warmer clothes. His cheeks have a pink glow from the sun today, and you can’t help but think it makes him all the more pretty in the fire light.

“So what do you think, you gonna make us s’mores again tonight?” he asks, crossing his feet on the ledge of the fire pit.

You turn to look at him, “What? I thought you didn’t like them?”

He laughs softly, turning to look at you, “I like them when you make them,” he says, his confession warming your chest.

“Are you getting soft on me, Kiszka?” you tease, standing up to grab the ingredients from the cooler.

“Me? Soft?” he scoffs, pretending to be offended. “Never in a million years, sweetheart.”

He grins, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk, betraying his feigned annoyance. He grabs the two sticks from last night, holding them out to you as you place the marshmallows on the ends. This time you give him his own stick to hold, both of you twirling the sugary puffs in the flames. 

He carefully twirls his own marshmallow in the flames, occasionally stealing glances at you as you do the same. The air is quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of crickets, a rumble sounds in the distance but you both ignore it.

As the marshmallows puff up, you pull them from the fire, placing them gently on the graham cracker and chocolate. They melt perfectly and again, you offer him his first. He takes it from your hand, biting into it quickly, as you do the same. 

“Truly, I think it’s something about you,” he admits, taking another bite. “They just taste better when you do it.”

“It’s all in your head,” you laugh, licking marshmallows from your finger. His eyes watch as your tongue swipes over the digits, his throat bobbing as he swallows back his nerves. 

A yawn falls from your lips as he looks at you, the earlier exhaustion creeping up on you again. 

“You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I am, it just hit me out of nowhere again,” you admit. 

He chuckles softly, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. You’ve been fighting it for the past twenty minutes.” He looks at you intently, studying your expression in the firelight. “Wanna call it a night?”

“What about you? I don't wanna leave you out here all by yourself?”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle myself.” He looks at you, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. “Besides, I don't mind being out here alone. It’s peaceful this time of night.”

“You sure?” you ask, a hint of guilt in your tone. 

He grins, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah, I'm sure. I'll just hang out until the fire smolders and enjoy the quiet out here before I head in.”

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to tuck you into the tent and hold you against him all night. But he keeps that last thought to himself. 

“Okay, well, thanks again for today. For showing me your secret place. I had a lot of fun with you," you say, clutching the cuffs of his flannel in your fists.

His heart skips a beat at your words, the sincerity in your tone making his chest ache. He looks at you, his gaze softening as he takes you in. “Don’t mention it, dove. I had a lot of fun too.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod with a bashful smile, “Goodnight, Jake.”

He smiles at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he replies. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He watches as you disappear into your tent, his eyes fixated on the flaps even after you’ve gone inside. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looks back to the fire.

He sits there for a while longer, his thoughts consumed by images of you. He can practically still feel the way your skin felt against his, the weight of you on his back as he carried you down the trail. He can still picture the way you looked in his flannel, your eyes tired but still filled with a spark that sent shockwaves through his body. He wanted you, and he always had.

Despite his best efforts he found the feelings that he pushed down for so long had resurfaced with a vengeance, briefly making him question whether they were ever really gone at all. He’d  made up a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t want you, letting it show in his harsh words and hostile demeanor, all the while letting you root your way deeper and deeper into his heart with every caught smile and laugh. He’d done such a good job pushing you away that he started to believe the lies he was telling himself over the last two years. Although, that all came to a screeching halt the minute he decided to let you in last night. The minute you showed him that you wanted to know him beyond surface level, and the minute he realized you were everything he told himself you weren’t.

Inside your tent you are snuggling down into your sleeping bag, replaying the day over and over. The way his hands felt on you, the smile you drew out of him, all of it. You wanted to run back out there and beg him to join you in here, but you know you can't. 

You can hear the fire still crackling, and the sway of the trees in the wind. Thunder is rumbling in the distance, growing closer and closer. You zip the window flaps on your tent for good measure, but that's when you hear it. The sound of a guitar, softly strumming in the breeze. You can tell he is trying to play quietly, but part of you wishes it was just a little louder. 

You don’t recognize the song, but it's soft and sweet and twists your heart in two. You want to know the name. Did he write it? Is it even a real song yet? Instead you lay there, letting the music his hands are producing play you to sleep, wishing every night could be like tonight.

—

A crash of lightning pulls you from your sleep, the sound of the nylon ripping overhead, pulling a scream from your chest. Rain starts to pour into your tent, drenching you and all of your belongings before you even have time to process what's happening. You pull yourself out of your soaking wet tent to see the storm raging around you. The trees whipping wildly through the wind, and the rain falling so hard you can barely see. You turn to look at your tent finding a tree branch laying across the fiberglass poles, effectively ripping the top of your tent. 

“Shit!” you scream, trying to pull your soaked belongings from inside. Jake must have heard the commotion, pulling on his boots as he rushes over towards you.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he shouts, dripping wet from the pouring rain. His eyes are panicked as they search yours for an answer. 

“The tree! A branch fell and ripped my tent, everything is wet! I–”

He grabs your arms, pulling you a little closer to him, “Are you okay?” he asks, not caring about the tent. You came first. 

“Yes, yes! I’m fine, I just– my tent!” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. 

He curses under his breath, the sight of your slashed tent and your wet clothes fueling the anger inside of him. "Damn it," he shouts, trying to keep his cool as he surveys the damage. “Okay, look, just, go get in my tent. I’ll be there in a second.”

You nod graciously and head over to his tent, unzipping the flap and stepping inside. It’s much larger than yours and is filled with real camping equipment. It’s warm, and is lit with a lantern. You see his things laying neatly by his bag, and you do your best not to drip water onto everything. 

Jake watches as you head towards his tent, disappearing inside and zipping the flap behind you. He lets out a breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair before he turns back to your tent. He grabs the offending branch, tossing it aside before he starts to gather your items from inside. He carefully picks up your belongings, dashing over to his car and tossing them in the backseat. His boots are caked with mud as he makes his way back to his tent, leaving his boots outside as he joins you inside. 

“I tried to salvage your stuff, but everything is soaked. I put it in my car to dry out but…” he pauses, wiping the rain off of him as is drips down his face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, realizing that both of you are wet and freezing now. He has the same realization as he crawls towards his bag.

He nods in response to your gratitude, his fingers digging through his belongings to find a dry shirt for you. He pulls out a plain t-shirt, the fabric soft and well-worn. He turns back to you, handing you the shirt as his gaze flits over your soaked form. 

“Here, put this on for now,” he says gruffly, trying to keep his train of thought focused on practicality and not how good you look wearing his clothes. “I just need to change into some dry clothes and then you can go back to sleep.”

“What?” you question, unsure of his logic. 

“I’ll change and then I’ll go sleep in my car, you can take the air mattress,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world that you’d get the better accommodations. 

“What? Jake, no. I’m not taking your tent and making you sleep in your car. No way.” you say, putting your foot down. “I’ll sleep in your car.”

He sits there, stunned at your words. He wasn't expecting resistance from you, expecting you to happily accept him taking the brunt of the damage.

“No, Y/N. Absolutely not. You’ll be much warmer here with the sleeping bag and the air mattress. You’re shivering, you’re not sleeping in the cold ass car,” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep in the car,” you argue. “We can just– both share the air mattress. I’m fine with it if you are.”

He looks at you incredulously, his brain short-circuiting at your suggestion. The thought of sharing that small space with you, of being that close to you in the dark, is both tantalizing and terrifying. He opens his mouth to argue again, but the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows hard, his eyes flicking over your figure again. He wants to protest, to say no and keep his distance, but the look in your eyes dares him to argue.

“Fine,” he relents, his voice gruff and reluctant. “But only if you're sure you're okay with it."

“I’m okay with it Jake,” your voice softer now.

He nods, his eyes searching your expression to be sure you mean it. You nod again and he understands. He digs into his bag again producing a pair of worn gray sweatpants, handing them to you with a gleam in his eye. 

You take the sweatpants from him, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. It's a brief contact, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He turns to give you a bit of privacy, despite seeing you half naked already once today. You quickly strip out of your soaked clothes, shivering from the cold air on your bare skin. You pull on the sweatpants, the warm, soft fabric enveloping your legs. You pull the wet shirt from your body and toss it to the ground before putting on the t-shirt that smells exactly like him. 

“Okay, I'm good,” you say, your voice soft.

He turns around and his breath stutters at the sight of you in his clothes. The sweatpants are a little baggy on you, the legs pooling around your ankles. The t-shirt clings to your curves, the fabric stretched tight over your chest. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body reacting to the sight of you more than it should.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. “You look–” he starts to say, his voice cracking slightly.

“Warm?” you smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 

He manages to nod in response to your question, his voice gravelly when he speaks. “Yeah,” he says, his eyes flickering to your face for a moment before darting away again. “Warm."

You turn to offer him the same privacy, listening as you hear his wet clothes hit the ground. He is quick to change, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and a black long sleeve t-shirt. 

“All good,” he says, moving closer to the air mattress. You try not to stare at him in his boxers, but it’s hard not to. 

He motions towards the air mattress, and you crawl towards it, positioning yourself on one side as he takes the other. You notice that you must be occupying the side he was previously on, seeing a book and a water bottle sitting next to your head. 

He crawls onto the air mattress beside you, the small space suddenly feeling much smaller with the two of you in it. He tries to keep some distance between you both, not wanting to get too close and make you uncomfortable.  The air in the tent is thick with tension, the heat of your bodies so close together in the small space. The rain continues to pour outside, falling harshly against the nylon of the tent.

He can hear your breathing, the sound of each intake of breath filling the silence between you. He's acutely aware of your presence beside him, your body just inches away from his, and he is doing everything in his power from pulling you into him.

“Were you reading?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. He looks surprised that you've spoken, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. He'd been caught up in his thoughts, lost in the feeling of being so close to you in the small space.

He nods, gesturing towards the book next to your head. “Yeah, I was.” he says, his voice a little gruff. “It's a pretty good book.”

“What's it about?” you ask, rolling to face him.

He takes a moment to remember the premise of the book, his mind still a little clouded with the feeling of being so close to you.

“It's um, it’s a crime thriller,” he replies. “It's about a detective trying to solve a series of murders in a small town. It's pretty intense, actually.” 

You giggle, “I wouldn't have taken you for a thriller novel kind of guy.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what kind of guy did you think I would be?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“I don’t know. Maybe a biography guy? History maybe?”

He chuckles at your response, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Biographies and history, huh? I mean, I read those too,” he says with a smirk. “But I like a good thriller from time to time.”

He glances over at you, his eyes trailing over your features as you yawn. He reaches over and turns off the lantern, leaving the two of you in darkness with the sound of the rain. 

“You tired?” he asks, his voice a little softer now. 

“Yeah, a little, but that kind of woke me up. I can't lie,” you answer, shivering a little as you lay on the air mattress. Jake seems to notice and immediately sits up, unzipping his sleeping bag and tossing half of it onto your body. His movements are quick and practiced, his eyes flickering to your face to make sure you're covered up.

He lays back down, his body now closer to yours under the shared cover. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. The silence hangs in the air again, the sound of the rain outside the only noise breaking through the tension between you. He can hear your breathing beside him, your body so close to his under the covers. He's acutely aware of the feel of your body heat radiating against his skin, the proximity of your bodies igniting a spark inside of him.

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling of the tent, but they keep drifting back towards you, taking in the way your hair fans out around your face as you look at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. 

You slide your hand up to rest on his cheek, warm and stubbly, “Thank you for coming to save me,” you breathe.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your hand on his cheek, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. He leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the warmth of your touch making his skin tingle. He opens his eyes, looking over at you with a mixture of surprise and something else. Something...soft.

“I'll always come save you,” he says, his voice low and gentle.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, pink and full, before meeting his dark brown eyes again. “All this time I thought you hated me.”

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he hears your words. He can feel the tension coiled tight in the space between you, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering over your face as if he's searching for something. 

Finally, he speaks. “I don't hate you,” he says, his voice low and soft. “I’ve never hated you, I always liked you. Too much, probably.”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath, the words spilling out of him before he can stop them.

“I never hated you, sweetheart,” he repeats, his voice softer this time. “I always liked you, maybe a little too much. I remember when Josh met Clara, he told me that you, specifically, were off limits. Of course at that point it was already too late. I swear it just made me want you more. I knew I couldn't go against him, though. I knew he had his reasons. I just...I didn’t know how to deal with it, being around you and not being able to have you, so I pushed you away. It was the only thing that worked.”

His eyes meet yours, his expression vulnerable and open. “It was easier to be cold to you than to be myself and fall for someone that I can't have.”

“Jake,” you breathe, sliding your thumb against his cheek. He closes his eyes at the sound of his name on your lips, feeling your thumb glide along his skin. It feels like electricity zipping through his body, igniting every nerve ending all at once. He turns his face towards your touch, his cheek pressing into your palm as he revels in the feeling.

“He didn’t even tell me that you were going to be on this trip. He knew I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were going to be here, too. He knew I wouldn’t subject myself to that. Honestly, I was doing okay controlling myself, until today.”

“Today, at the creek…” you continue. 

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locking with yours as he hears you mention it. The memory of that moment floods through his mind, the sight of your body in the water burned into his brain.

He swallows hard, his throat dry as he nods in response. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Today at the creek,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

You nod your head and bite your lip as your mind replays its own memories. 

He shifts his body subtly closer to you, the heat between you growing with each passing moment. He can feel the tension building to a fever pitch, the air thick with desire and need.

“I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart. I really did. I almost did. Touching you like that, fuck. You letting me carry you back. Just sitting by the fire with you. It’s the best day I have had in a long ass time. Didn’t want it to end, but I knew you were exhausted. I wanted to tell you tonight, but things just didn’t work out. I figured it was probably for the best,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your hand drops to his chest, the warmth of his skin evident through his t-shirt, “I wanted you to kiss me, Jake. I wanted your hands on me, everywhere. In fact, I never don’t want your hands on me,” you say, feeling his hand nervously slide up and over the curve of your waist. 

He listens to your words, disbelief and desire warring within him as he realizes you feel the same way he does. He swallows hard, his hand on your waist trembling slightly as he absorbs your words. He slides closer to you, his body now pressed snugly against yours under the covers. Your faces are so close that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“Well fuck me, sweetheart,” he growls. His eyes rake over your features, taking in the way your pupils are dilating with desire, the flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitches when he moves closer to you.

He’s never seen you look so beautiful, and the realization that he’s the cause of it makes his heart swell in his chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“Jake,” you beg. 

His heart clenches at the sound of you begging for him, the need in your voice nearly driving him mad with desire. He wants to hear you say his name again and again, to feel your body against his and your skin under his hands.

He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your neck as he speaks. “Say my name again, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Kiss me, Jake,” you plead, unable to wait a second longer. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. At your words, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, all of the tension and desire between you finally igniting in a blaze of passion.

His hands roam over your body, exploring all the curves he’s wanted to touch for so long. He kisses you deeply, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

He shifts his body over yours, pinning you to the air mattress as he continues to kiss you hungrily. His hands slide up your body, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head in place, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth.

He moans lowly, the sound muffled as his body presses flush against yours under the covers. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the sensation driving him mad with desire. 

Your hands snake around his waist, sliding beneath his shirt, and pulling it up and over his head. He lets out a sharp breath as he feels your hands on his skin, the feeling of your fingers against his bare flesh sending a shiver down his spine. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, pulling back just enough to let you yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside.

He takes a moment to admire your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes trail over his now bare torso. He grins at the hungry look in your eyes as you take in his muscular chest and stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that sweetheart, it’ll get you into trouble.” he warns.

“I like trouble,” you say, drinking in the sight of him as he pins you to the air mattress. 

He laughs at your response, the sound deep and gravelly in his chest. “You would,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “I think that’s why I like you.”

He leans back down to capture your lips in another kiss, his bare chest now pressed against yours. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips beneath your sweatpants.

As he kisses you, he slips his thigh between your legs, pressing his body even closer against yours. He runs his tongue along your jawbone, trailing kisses along your neck as he moves down to your throat.

He sucks lightly at your pulse point, nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers reach for the hem of your t-shirt slowly dragging it up over your body.  “Take this off for me, dove,” he whispers.

You lift up, letting him drag the old, threadbare shirt over your chest. His eyes take in the sight of your bare skin in the low light of the tent. His breath stutters at the sight of your body, the way the light dances across your curves making his throat go dry.

He lets out a low moan as he looks at you, his hands roaming freely over your bare skin. “Goddamn,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gorgeous.”

His hands trace the curves of your breasts, sliding down over your waist and to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes lock onto yours as his hands move down your body, his touch searing against your skin. He teases at the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers tracing soft circles against your hip bones.

He can feel the warmth of your body beneath his palm, the way your skin twitches in anticipation under his touch sending a jolt of desire through his body. “Can I take these off?” he whispers, his voice rough with need.

“Please,” you beg. 

He grins at your response, the sound of you begging awakening something primal in him. He slides his hands into the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he slowly starts to pull them down your legs.

His eyes never leave your face as he exposes more and more of your body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. Once he's removed the offending article of clothing, he lets his gaze roam over your body once again. His eyes trail over your bare skin, taking in the way the light from the storm outside casts shadows over your curves. He reaches out, his hands tracing over your legs, his touch gentle and reverent.

He can feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your body responds to his touch making him ache with desire. He leans down, pressing kisses over your stomach and hips, his lips roaming over your skin like a man starved.

You can hardly stand it, the feel of his lips on your skin is making you feel insane, “Touch me, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. He leans back, locking his eyes with yours as he reaches for your hips once again, gripping them firmly.

“I'll touch you, baby,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “As much as you want. Where do you want my hands, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere, Jake. I told you,” you beg. 

“That’s quite the request, darling,” he says, the sound of the air mattress echoing as he repositions himself as carefully as possible. Your hands tug at the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a laugh from his chest. 

“Impatient, baby?”

“I just want you, Jake.” you confess. 

“I want you too, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he whispers, his eyes locking with yours.

He pushes his boxers down, kicking them off somewhere in the tent as he moves back over you. He braces himself on his forearms, his body pressed flush against yours again as he looks down at you. You get a wicked gleam in your eye, hooking your leg around his, and twisting until you are over top of him, straddling his waist. 

He grins up at you, his eyes raking over your body. “Well I’ll be damned, look at you,” he says, a note of surprise and arousal in his voice.

You give him a proud smile, sitting happily on top of him, enjoying the view below. You can feel how wet you are as it coats your inner thighs, and you know he is privy to this as well as the light reflects from your thighs.  

“You look so damn good on top of me,” he says, his voice rough and low. “Like you belong there. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re fucking hot,” you counter, brushing the hair off of his face. 

He lets out a laugh at your words, a grin spreading across his face. “And so articulate too,” he teases, his grip on your hips tightening as he speaks. His hand moves towards your center, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit. 

“Jesus,” you whine, his touch sending you soaring. 

“Not here, love,” he smirks. 

You grind yourself against him, a moan falling from his lips, “What was that you were saying?” you ask playfully. 

“Oh shit,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continue to move against him. He opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he tries to compose himself. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.” he says, his voice rough.

You lift up to your knees, hovering over him enough to grab his length in your fist. A hiss leaves his chest at your touch, his jaw falling open as his eyes lock on yours. You drag his tip through your wetness, his eyes growing impossibly darker at the sensation. 

“Fuck me,” he pants, “Listen, if we’re gonna do this, I want to go slow. I have fucking dreamed about this moment. That and if I fuck you how I want to fuck you, we will pop this air matress. That will be for another time.”

You nod as you slowly sink down over him, taking every inch he has to offer. “Another time, huh? What makes you think–”

He delivers a pointed thrust up into you, stealing the air from your lungs. 

“That. That’s what makes me think, sweetheart,” he answers, grabbing your hips and helping you start to move on top of him. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you whine, feeling him stretch you out so completely. So fully. 

He lets out a low growl at your words, the sound filled with desire and need. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

His hands grip your hips even tighter as you move above him, his fingers digging into your skin as his body responds to your movements. “You feel so good, sweetheart, better than I imagined.” he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

You start to move your hips in a wave pattern, his length hitting you right where you need him. A cry leaves your chest as you toss your head back, feeling his hand move to support your lower back. The heat of the tent combined with the friction between you is making things even hotter, both of you growing sweaty and breathless as you move against each other.

He lets out a low moan, his hands moving up your body to grip your shoulders tightly. “Christ, baby, you’re a fucking dream,” he groans, his body arching up against yours as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. 

“Harder, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a sharp gasp as you say his name, his eyes darkening with desire. “Harder?” he asks, his voice thick and rough. “You want it harder, sweetheart?”

“Please, baby,” you whine.

He lets out a low growl at your plea, his hands tightening on your shoulders. “Yeah sweetheart, I got you.” he murmurs, his voice low and guttural. “Give you anything you want.”

You lean down letting him capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he pulls you closer against him. His hips buck upwards with more force now, his body moving against yours with increasing intensity. Your stomach is burning with need and you know it won’t be much longer until you burst into flames. 

“Don’t stop, baby, please,” you cry out, feeling your stomach growing hot. He lets out a muffled groan at your words, his hands gripping you tighter as he continues to fuck you. 

“God, you feel incredible,” he gasps, his mouth moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His hands move towards your ass, his fingers gripping into the supple flesh as he thrusts up into you. Your skin is slick with sweat and arousal, the lewd sounds filling the tent with the sound of the rain. He can hardly contain his moans now, matching your energy in the small tent.

“Sit up, I want to look at your tits while I fuck you,” he growls. 

You hear a hint of dominance fall from his lips and you can’t help but to obey. You sit up, straddling him again, as he leans up on his elbows to watch you. 

He lets out a guttural moan as you do as he asks, sitting up above him and giving him an even better view of your body. He runs his hand up your thigh, his eyes locked on your face.

“You like this?” you say, swirling your hips in a figure eight. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I like this a lot.” His hand moves to cup at your tits, bouncing as you continue to fuck him. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.”

“I always am,” you say, biting at your bottom lip as you try to stave off your orgasm. 

He smiles at your response, his hands still gripping your thighs. He leans up again, capturing your lips in another intense kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he pulls you closer against him. He bites at your lower lip, his teeth grazing your skin softly. The feeling of his teeth on your skin pushes you over the edge, and you’re sure he can feel you tightening around him. 

“I’m close, baby,” you whine. 

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

He slides his hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it slowly and insistently. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his mouth moving to your ear. “Come right on my cock, just like this.”

“Come with me, Jake,” you beg, feeling his lips connect to the side of your neck. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, his body shuddering as he nears the edge. “Yeah...yeah I'm there sweetheart, I’m right fucking there,” he gasps, his hands gripping you tightly as his body moves against yours. “Say you’re mine, baby.”

Just the thought of him wanting to claim you as his sends you over the edge, your body giving in to your orgasm as you fall apart on top of him. “I’m yours Jake. Yours.”

He lets out a deep, guttural moan at your words, his body shuddering as he loses himself in your arms. “That’s right sweetheart, you're fucking mine,” he gasps, his voice ragged. “Mine and no one else's.”

He holds you close as he comes, his body shaking and shuddering against yours. "Fuck," he groans, his grip on you tight as he rides out the waves of his own release, hot as it spills inside of you. 

“Jake, fuck,” you pant, finally coming down from what is probably the best orgasm of your life. 

“God you’re fucking sexy,” he pants, “Jesus Christ. Incredible, actually.”

“You’re incredible,” you smile, lifting up and off of him. His hands don’t leave you though, not wanting you to stray too far. 

He grins at your words, his arms tightening around you as he holds you close. “You give me too much credit, sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff and spent. “We just fucked on an air mattress,” he laughs.

He leans back and looks at you, a satisfied smile on his face. “God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” he admits, his eyes roving over your face.

“Probably as long as I have if I had to guess,” you smile. 

He lets out a low chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he nods. “You'd be right about that,” he says, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I've wanted you for a long time, sweetheart. Longer than I care to admit.”

“Well you have me now?” you say nervously.

His expression softens at your words, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he says softly. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “And I'm not letting you go. You're mine now, sweetheart.”

“I think I always wanted to be,” you confess.

He grins at your words, a possessive glint in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nod sweetly as you reach for your clothes, the chill returning to the tent. You hand him his shirt and his boxers, pulling his sweats and t-shirt back over your body. He watches as you dress yourself in his clothing, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“You look so fucking hot in my clothes, please never try to give them back,” he says, his eyes raking over you with a smile. 

You giggle and shake your head, watching him pull his own clothes on before crawling back onto the air mattress. You snuggle into his side, feeling his arms wrap around you. He pulls you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your damp hair, his breath hot against your neck.

He lets out a content sigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as he holds you close. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Oh, no, I thought you liked camping alone,” you tease with a giggle.

He laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah yeah, shut up,” he says playfully, giving your side a squeeze. He snuggles into you more, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. “Don't get used to me wanting your company,” he jokingly warns you.

“Oh yeah? Want me gone by morning?” you taunt, letting your fingers trace shapes into his stomach.

He grins against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “Oh, I don't know if I'll wait that long,” he teases back. He presses soft, gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, his lips moving slowly over your skin. “I might just kick you out now.”

“Ahh, there you are. I was wondering where you went. You were being far too sweet.” you tease.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you. “Oh? You prefer me mean, is that it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. He gives you a playful nudge, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can be an ass if you want, sweetheart. It really is no problem.”

“No, no. I think I'll keep you just like this.” you say nuzzling under his chin. You listen to the steady beating of his heart, feeling your eyes grow tired. He runs his fingers through your hair, a soft, soothing gesture meant to lull you to sleep. He grins slightly as he feels your breathing begin to slow, knowing that you're on the verge of sleep. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, his voice soft and low.

“I am now,” you whisper. 

He lets out a soft chuckle at your sleepy response, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, his fingers resuming their gentle caresses through your hair. 

“Then close your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice even quieter now. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you breathe, slipping quickly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers continuing to gently massage your scalp as he feels you slowly drift off to sleep.

—

You wake the next morning finding that the sun hasn't risen fully yet, and the air is chilly. You’re warm though, wrapped up in Jake beneath the sleeping bag.  He feels you stirring next to him, a smile spreading across his face as he feels you wake up. He's been lying awake for a little while now, just watching you sleep and enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. 

“Morning,” you answer, turning to look at his tired face.

He grins as you reply to him, his arms tightening around you. “Sleep well?” he asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“So good. Did you?” you ask with a sleepy yawn.

He chuckles softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah, I slept great,” he replies, his voice still rough and gravelly. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer against him and nuzzling his face into your hair. “Best night's sleep I've had in a long time.”

You smile as you roll into him, placing a kiss on his warm chest.

He lets out a low groan at your kiss, his body shuddering slightly as he feels your lips on his skin. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep doing things like that and we'll never get out of this tent.”

“I’m kinda sad that we have to leave today,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. 

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender. “Yeah, me too,” he admits, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's been nice having you all to myself. Don't want to share you with the rest of the world, now.”

You giggle against his chest, a warmth washing over you as you feel his fingers moving lazily against your skin, “Ugh, the rest of the world, don’t remind me…”

“Actually, speaking of, Josh texted me,” he says, a chuckle leaving his chest. 

“Did he?”

“Yeah, said he hoped we hadn’t killed each other because neither of them had heard from us since they left,” he smiles, pulling you tight against him. 

You gasp, realizing he’s right, “Shit, I– I totally forgot about them.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you, “Yeah, I did too. I guess we were just– a little preoccupied,” he grins. 

“Do we tell them?” you ask nervously. 

He considers it for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, “I mean, yeah, we probably should,” he pauses, “They don’t need the details, but I think they should know.”

“Won’t Josh be mad?” you ask, scared of his answer. 

He laughs at your question. “Yeah, absolutely he will. He'll give me one of his long winded lectures about being nice to you and treating you right. Make some threats about what he'll do if I hurt you. You know, the usual.” 

You nudge him with your elbow, “Maybe that isn’t a half bad idea,” you tease.

He laughs, feigning offense. “Hey now, don't side with him,” he says, giving you a playful nudge in return. He pulls you closer against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But seriously, I don't think Josh will be too surprised. I think he's always known something was bound to happen between the two of us whether he wanted it to or not.”

“I’m glad it finally did.”

He grins, his eyes locking on yours. “Me too, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, his body enveloping yours as he holds you tightly against him. “I just wish we had more time alone together,” he says, his voice suddenly serious.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I mean, once we leave here it’s going to be different, you know? We’ll have the band, tour, media, friends, all of it. I just– I know it’s a lot to deal with. You’ve been around Josh and Clara, you know how it can be. I just– I want you around, but I don’t want that to scare you away.”

You smirk at him, “It’s not going to scare me away, Jake. I just want you to be really sure this is something you want to get into right now.”

He looks into your eyes, his expression serious. “I’m sure,” he says firmly. “I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there will be challenges. But I’m sure about you. About us.” He takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks. “You’re all I want. Nothing else matters.”

You nod your head in his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “Okay, then I’m in if you are.”

His eyes soften as you kiss his palm, a smile spreading across his face. “I'm more than in,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm yours, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you against him. “And I plan on showing you just how much I want you, every single day.”

“Well, everyday until tour starts back up, right?” you tease playfully. 

He laughs, shaking his head at your taunting, “Yeah, alright, smartass,” he grins, giving you a playful pinch on the side. He rolls over on top of you, his body pressing you down into the air mattress as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Don't worry, I'll make up for the lost time.”

“Oh, tempting…Maybe on a real bed? Not an air mattress?” you smirk. 

He chuckles, his eyes raking over your body, "Is this your way of asking me to take you home with me, sweetheart?" he grins.

“Unless you’d like a redo on my twin size,” you quip.

“Baby, have you ever been on a tour bus?” he giggles, pressing kisses to your neck.

You shake your head, laughing as his fingers tickle into your ribs, “No.”

“Mmm, you’re in for a real treat.” He grins down at you, his eyes glinting with desire. "Yeah, I think a real bed sounds like a good idea. And a real shower."

“A shower…” you breathe, the idea sounding desperately appealing. 

He laughs, noticing the way you react to the idea. “Yeah baby, a shower. A big, hot shower with actual water pressure. And a nice bed with sheets and blankets and the best feather pillows you’ve ever laid your head on.”

“Mhmm, maybe we should pack up now and get there immediately,” you giggle. 

“We should.” He presses his lips to yours again, warm as they linger there, “To be continued,” he says, pushing up off of the air mattress and stepping out into the sun. 

You spend the rest of the morning packing up the campsite, tearing down your tents and loading them into his car, sneaking glances at each other every few minutes. Jake works to organize everything into the small trunk, with the addition of your tent and Josh and Clara’s. You drain the cooler as he closes the trunk, dusting his hands off on his pants. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yep! Just this and we are all set,” you shout. 

He walks over to you, grabbing the cooler and walking it back to his car with you in tow. He opens the passenger side door for you, gesturing you inside, before joining you on the other side. 

“You know, I really am kind of sad to leave,” you laugh, “I never thought I would be saying that, but–”

“It’s a magical place,” he smiles, “S’why I come here so much.”

“Maybe we can come back?” you ask, tilting your head against the headrest. 

“Oh definitely,” he answers, “Whenever you want, sweetheart.” His hand comes to rest on your knee, his thumb stroking against your skin as he navigates the car out of the woods and back towards the road. You give him a warm smile, feeling the air conditioner bring chills to your skin. 

“Hey, I was um, I was serious about you coming home with me,” he says, taking his eyes off of the road to meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Oh, I mean, I would like that. If you’re really sure,” you answer nervously. 

He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, a smile coming to his lips, “I’m really sure. I want to be with you as much as I can before I leave. Want you in my bed, my shower, the whole house really. All of it. I just want you.”

You blush, his words sending a shockwave through your system, “Okay.”

He grins widely, “Good.” He squeezes your thigh, his palm hot against your skin. “Should be home pretty quick, now.” 

“It is Sunday funday, right?” you giggle. “But, I guess that's kinda everyday for you, isn’t it?”

“Very funny,” he taunts, his expression growing serious, “But yes. It is,” he answers, grabbing your attention as you turn to look at him. He sends you a playful wink as he pats your thigh, letting out a deep breath that almost seemed like he was relieved. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight,” he says, keeping his stare focused on the overgrown highway. “Real dinner.”

“Oh, real dinner, huh?” you tease, placing your hand over top of his. “I feel like I vaguely remember hearing about you being a good cook, but I can’t remember for sure.”

He laughs, “What else have you heard about me, baby?”

Just as you go to answer his phone rings through the car speakers. You can see on the display that it is Josh calling him, and he glances to you before accepting the call. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

“Dude, are you two alive? What the fuck is going on?” he asks, a tone of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Yeah we are alive. You know there’s no reception out there. Kinda the reason I go,” he says, hoping to jog his memory. 

“So you didn’t kill each other, that’s great news.” Josh says, and you can hear Clara laughing in the background.

Jake looks over at you, his eyes silently begging the question of if he should break the news to him. You take a minute to consider the risks but decide there really aren’t any. You nod eagerly at Jake, watching as he nods back in understanding. 

“Hey, uh, you two busy tonight?” he asks, his one hand gripping the steering wheel. 

“Not that I know of, why?” he answers. 

“Well, we are just now on our way back. Need to unload, shower, all that. How about you guys come over for dinner tonight? I’m cooking,” he says. You can sense the nerves in his tone, his face serious as he waits for Josh’s reply. 

“Um, yeah yeah that should be…good. You said we… Is… there a we?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. 

“Just come over tonight. Both of you. Just got some things to tell you,” he says, a smile pulling across his lips. 

A huff leaves his lips, “Things to tell me?”

“Hi Josh!” you say, speaking up on the call. 

“Holy shit, hey Y/N,” Josh answers, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. 

“See you tonight?” you ask, hearing him gasp in shock. You can hear him pull the phone away from his ear, doing his best to cover the microphone with his hand, “Holy fuck, Clara you were right. It happened,” he says in a mumbled mess. You know he did not intend for either of you to hear it, but you did.

“Josh?” Jake says, pulling him back to the call. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Sorry, yeah– we will definitely be there.”

“See you tonight, Josh?” you ask, lacing your fingers with Jake’s, feeling his warm hand in yours. He leans over and kisses your cheek before settling back in his seat.

You listen to Josh laugh through the speakers, sighing as he speaks, “Yeah, I guess I will see you tonight.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

xo, N

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[steveslevis]

‘tis the damn season

AUTUMN

chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)

w/c: 5.3k

The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months. 

There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?

The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind. 

The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room. 

“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”

You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous. 

“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”

—————————

The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.

You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least. 

Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.

So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance. 

You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.

“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—” 

You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation. 

“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“

“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.

“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.

“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.

The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.

You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.

“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.

“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 

His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.

“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“

“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” 

The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be. 

“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”

Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal. 

A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it. 

Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it. 

You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first. 

Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.

“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.” 

You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.

—————————

It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye. 

You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand. 

It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.

“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.

“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.  

You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.

Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.

“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s. 

“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers. 

There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes. 

“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside. 

Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say. 

He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”

Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him. 

“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff. 

It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads. 

The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.

Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still. 

“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”

You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.

“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you. 

“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. 

“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.

“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.

You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface. 

Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well. 

—————————

You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were. 

Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again. 

Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon. 

There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open. 

Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”

You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do. 

Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.

A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.

You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever. 

Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for. 

He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.

A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.

“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”

You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months. 

“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”

You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.

“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”

You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college. 

You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.

Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously. 

His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper. 

His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon. 

He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.

“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”

“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.

“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.

“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.

You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.

And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could. 

Nobody did it like he could.

This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.

“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.

“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.

—————————

The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound. 

Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own. 

“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor. 

“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.

“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”

“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping. 

A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.

You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet. 

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.

“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”

“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”

If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs. 

You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down. 

“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

—————————

After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave. 

The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours. 

Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point. 

The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.

You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.

It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.

---------

tags: @carinacassiopeiae

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) [teaser]

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

READ FULL FIC HERE!

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (none in teaser) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT: est. 25k

WORD COUNT [teaser]: ~820

RELEASE DATE: est. october 2nd 2023

!PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)!

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, (smut tags in the full fic)

[A/N]: I worked rlly hard on the banner pls look at it ‼️ enjoy hehe also this is probably gonna be way more than 25k but I supposed its better than overshooting

teaser under the cut!

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard. 

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

[mockerycrow]

I DON’T WANT THIS NIGHT TO END (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist

summary; Kyle would do anything to relive these moments with you. 881 words.

authors note; this is EXTREMELY rusty writing in my opinion, but roommate!gaz deserves another chapter before i have to leave. i hope you guys enjoy anyway and let me know how this is. also, the car is not the convertible gaz owns!! i just needed a pic lmfao

[WARNINGS; fluff, pining, gaz is a half oblivious idiot, and a half “i don’t want to face my feelings like a man”.]

KYLE ADORES HIS convertible, but he certainly loves how you look in his convertible more. You’ve both fallen into an accidental routine of taking late night drives almost every night you’re together whilst he’s on leave. Sometimes, all you get as a warning that he’s home is when he sends you a text—sometimes you want to ask him if he even considers spending his leave anywhere else, but you’re not sure if you want to direct his attention away from you.

He knows his eyes should be glued to the road. Kyle knows the rules of the road intimately, especially due to his job and what he has to do—stuff you would consider reckless behavior. But may whoever is above forgive him for his eyes wandering because the big ol’ grin on your face with the wind rustling your clothes and brushing against your face is a picture he would pay money to be framed.

Kyle keeps glancing between you and the dark road ahead, knowing how dangerous it is to look off the road, but holy shit.

“I love this song.” You murmur, reaching forward to turn his stereo up louder. You tighten the seat belt and raise your arms up, feeling the wind thread between your fingers and feel it beat against your face. The feeling reminds you of where you are—with your best friend in his convertible, riding down some random dirt road. “Do you even know where we are?” You muse, glancing over at Kyle. However, you’re not worried. You never are. You don’t doubt your safety with him for a second.

Kyle hums and glances around; honestly, he doesn’t. It’s a shitty dirt road with trees. The road probably has pebbles and sizable rocks, judging by how the car jerks around a bit, but the price of a tire replacement is the least of Kyle’s worries. “No,” Kyle shouts over the music, glancing between the road ahead and you. “But we’re safe, yeah?”

You glance around, your eyes darting around the darkness. You’re sure if you were alone or with anybody else but Kyle, you wouldn’t be agreeing, but you find yourself nodding. “Yeah.” You echo him with a smile, mumbling the lyrics to the song on the stereo. Your arms lower, one of them hanging out the side of your car door, the other resting comfortably against your own body with your fingers tapping your knee to the beat.

“I do wonder how we will get home, though?” You question, your voice just loud enough over the music. Kyle can hear the amusement in your tone. He huffs as his eyes struggle to stay on the dirt road ahead of you two, his fingers tightening on his steering wheel. “GPS, sweets.” Kyle shouts with a snort. “Is this a marked road, though?” You respond—which makes Kyle go quiet for a moment because goddamn it, why do you have to be so smart?

Can’t you see he doesn’t want this to end?

“True,” Kyle eventually utters out loud, nearly drowned out by the low rumbling of the music. There’s a forming ball in the base of his throat, an anxious feeling that remains stuck. He can’t help but let his eyes drift from the dirt road and trees to you—and God, every glance is like the first time. You’re grinning like an idiot and you’re having so much fun doing something relatively mundane with him. And you’ll never know how much that means to him.

Kyle’s fingers twitch with want—but he looks back to the road and sighs, taking a quick glance at the clock on his dash. It’s late, he knows he should slow down and find a way home. It’s getting a bit cold, and he can feel the tiredness seeping into himself. He can tell you’re beginning to feel it, too.

The ball in Kyle’s throat lodges itself in his chest instead, right near where his heart remains. He isn’t too sure what to make of it. How can he even consider driving home when you’re glowing in the faint light of the dash, of the moon? He is never sure when he’ll get another moment like this with you.

Kyle’s eyes flicker to his gas tank meter; he has a pretty good amount left. Without thinking, he utters—“Let’s stay up all night.”

His eyes glance to you, and you’re looking back at him with a soft, closed lip smile, contemplating his suggestion. You eventually murmur, “It’s 3:35, Kyle. Are you sure? You’ve been quite tired since you’ve come home.”

His chest tightens—home?—“I’m sure.” He responds with a firm tone, shrugging as he glances back to the road ahead of him. Kyle forces himself to relax, one hand on the wheel and his other arm hangs out the side of the car, mirroring you in a way. “Why not? We have the whole night and a full tank, hm sweets?” You can’t help the laugh, turning down the music a bit.

“I get to choose the music.” You negotiate, reaching for his phone, but Kyle’s already handing it to you without looking. “Always.” He responds in a soft manner, your fingertips brushing against each other. Kyle glances at the dash clock again; 3:37.

Please don’t let this night end.

🏷️; @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @ornateorchid @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @talooolalolla @sstormyskyess @spicyspicyliving @nyushkawritesstuff @tipsykeen

this taglist is my overall taglist from here. if you are wrongly tagged or don’t want to be tagged anymore, let me know! no hard feelings.

[laurenairay]

felt like magic - N. Hischier

Summary: Nico has been pining for years – maybe this summer is a chance to finally do something about his feelings for you.

I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2k24, with a Nico Hischier story for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten! I really hope you enjoy this – I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me. And who doesn’t love Summer Nico?

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: pining, childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, some bad language

Title (and song lyrics) from Caffeine, by Jack Kays

~

Stay with me, If it’s not our time then will you wait for me? I know that we’re young, but this is destiny I couldn’t be me without you, without you

~

Travelling from Bern to Zurich wasn’t something you’d do for just anyone. An hour and a half driving across the country, surrounded by drivers who were just as impatient to get through their journeys as you were? Not your idea of fun. At least the destination was more than worth it.

“Happy birthday Jonas!”

The man in question turned around at the sound of your voice, a big grin sliding onto his face.

“You made it, liebling! Thanks for coming!” Jonas said happily.

It wasn’t every year that you got to celebrate the birthday of one of your favourite people – early May wasn’t exactly the most consistent time of year for hockey players after all. And the last thing you wanted to do was remind him of the early end to his season. So when Jonas had called you to say that he was hosting a birthday party at his house in Zurich and invited you to spend the weekend, there was no way you were saying no.

“As if I’d miss the event of the summer,” you teased.

Jonas just beamed at you.

“Schatzi! You survived the A1!”

You peered around Jonas’s broad shoulders to see another one of your favourite people – Nico. It was through Nico, one of your childhood best friends – that you’d met Jonas in the first place so you should’ve guessed that he wouldn’t be too far away. Usually you would’ve made the journey with Nico, both of you coming from Bern after all, but he’d already been visiting in Zurich so you’d been stuck with a solo trip this time.

And damn did he look good. It wasn’t something that you let yourself think about often, being just his friend, but Nico was genuinely one of the most handsome people you’d ever seen, let alone become good friends with. It wouldn’t do you any good to travel down that road of thoughts though, so you were always careful to nip those feelings in the bud. You were friends. Great friends. Incredible friends, and that’s how it was always going to be.

“I’m here,” you mused, “had to greet the birthday boy before anyone else.”

“Yeah don’t be jealous,” Jonas teased.

Interestingly, Nico blushed slightly and glared at the taller man, before clearing his throat. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll grab something myself in a minute, but thank you,” you said, smiling sweetly, “Let me just give Jonas his birthday present first.”

You handed over the thick envelope, Jonas eagerly ripping into it, making you laugh softly.

“Oh shit, you’re the best,” Jonas gasped.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased.

“What did you get?” Nico asked, curious.

“A tattoo voucher. Far more than enough to cover the gap fillers I’ve been looking at getting. This is amazing, thank you, this is way too generous,” Jonas explained, looking gratefully at you.

“You’re welcome. I know you’ve been talking about filling the spaces for a while,” you shrugged.

While you didn’t have any tattoos of your own, you knew how Nico and Jonas felt about their own tattoos, and how much they meant to them – it was an easy decision.

“Are we ever going to get you into a tattoo chair, hm?” Nico teased.

“Maybe if I have someone holding my hand,” you teased back, trying to fight the giddy heat rising to your cheeks.

His lips parted slightly in shock, speechless for once, Jonas just cackling at his response.

“And on that note, I’m going to go say hi to Andreas and Julia. See you both later?” you grinned.

“Yeah, see you liebling,” Jonas nodded.

Nico just nodded, cheeks aflame. His silence was a bit concerning – he wasn’t exactly one to be shy or awkward, especially not around you – but you knew Jonas would figure out whatever was going on with him. Hopefully.

~

“So that was smooth,” Jonas mused.

“Shut up,” Nico groaned.

“No really, that was one of your best efforts,” Jonas snickered.

“You’re the worst,” Nico shot back.

He ran a hand through his hair, watching you walk across the backyard with a confidence he wished he had. There was just something about you that had always reduced him to feeling like a hapless fool, ever since he’d first moved to Bern as a teenager and met you within the first few weeks of living there. You’d been a constant feature in his life for 10 years now, always there with a wide smile and open arms whether it was in Bern, Zurich, or New Jersey, and he didn’t know what he would do with his life if you weren’t in it.

Nico was head over heels in love with you, and you had no idea.

Everyone else in his life knew how he felt for you, obviously, not just Jonas. His parents, his siblings, even Jack had figured it out within an hour of your first visit to New Jersey all those years ago. If Jack Hughes of all people could read it off his face then he didn’t know how much more obvious he could be – other than actually telling you with words, of course.

But how could he say anything to you, when he knew for certain that you didn’t feel the same way?

~

“Are you sure your billet family don’t mind us being down here?”

Nico smiled down at you, shaking his head. The two of you were down in the basement where his billet family’s entertainment room was, the rest of the house having gone out for the night, and Nico had invited you round for a movie night. He’d only been in Bern for a few weeks, and you were the only non-hockey friend he’d made so far, so he hadn’t hesitated to invite you over to get to know you better.

There was just something about you that made him want to put in the effort

“They really don’t mind. They even left us money for takeout,” he insisted.

“Oh, well alright then. What are we watching first?”

The evening flew by, pizza ravenously consumed between movies, the two of you shifting closer and closer on the sofa until you were fully leaning up against each other, Nico’s hockey bulk giving you a solid pillow to rest on. He didn’t mind it at all, if he was being honest with himself, although he wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

“That was so terrible though! They had no chemistry at all!” you giggled as the credits rolled.

“I guess not all actors are going to like kissing everyone they work with,” Nico snickered.

Even in the dim light of the room, he noticed the heat that rushed to your cheeks.

“What?” Nico frowned.

“It’s nothing,” you said, shaking your head quickly.

He might not know you that well yet, but he knew that was a lie.

“Come on, tell me what’s wrong?” he prompted.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“We’re 15 years old – everything we do is stupid,” Nico pointed out.

You huffed out a laugh, breath a little shaky. “I was just thinking about the fact that I wouldn’t know what it was like.”

“What what was like?” Nico asked, confused.

“To kiss someone,” you all but whispered.

His lips parted in surprise, not expecting those words to fall from your lips, and you immediately grimaced.

“See I told you it was stupid,” you groaned.

As you shifted to move away from him, Nico instinctively gripped your shoulder, not letting you go. You startled but looked up at him, staying silent in confusion.

“It’s not stupid. Not everyone has had their first kiss. You’re only 15,” he murmured.

“You’ve kissed someone though?”

Nico bit his bottom lip but nodded. He’d had multiple kisses, all harmless, all essentially meaningless, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Kissing was fun – he always liked the way it made his heart race with adrenaline.

And it was the memory of that feeling that fuelled his bravery.

“I could kiss you, if you want?”

“What?”

He took a steadying breath, before nodding. “I could kiss you. So you have a good first kiss, with a friend.”

There was nothing worse than doing something scary for the first time only to have someone make you feel like an idiot. If Nico could stop that feeling for you, then he absolutely would.

“Are you sure?” you said hesitantly, “You really don’t have to.”

“Of course I am,” he said, smiling to reassure you.

He could feel how fast your heart was beating as he rested a hand on the side of your neck, echoing the beating of his own heart. You closed your eyes as he leaned down towards you, making him smile slightly before he pressed his lips to yours. As he slowly kissed you, he could feel how hesitant and nervous you were, but as you continued to kiss him back he didn’t regret his offer for a moment. Nico kissed you over and over and over again, almost feeling dizzy with how the embrace was consuming him, his thumb stroking over your jaw as you melted into his arms. This was heaven. This was bliss. This was everything he didn’t realise he’d wanted.

After what felt like hours, but could only have been a few moments, you pulled away from the kiss. Nico made a soft noise of protest, opening his eyes to see you looking stunned, lips as swollen as his felt.

“Schatzi,” he managed to murmur.

You just bit your bottom lip, smiling softly, before leaning backwards out of his hands. He tried not to frown, not understanding why his heart was pounding, even though you didn’t look mad.

“I should probably get home. My parents will be wondering where I am by now,” you said, voice quiet, almost as if you were still a little in shock.

Nico glanced at the clock on the wall, grimacing at the late hour. Where had the time gone? Did you really have to leave, after a kiss like that?

“O-Okay, if you’re sure. Text me when you get back safe?”

“I will. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

~

After that kiss 10 years ago, the two of you had never spoken about it again. The morning after you’d acted like nothing had ever happened, and Nico had been too nervous to say anything to risk losing the blossoming friendship. He knew now that it was his first experience of heartbreak, as youthful and innocent as that had been – and he also knew that’s when he’d first started having feelings for you. What was meant to have been a friend helping out another friend had started a decade of unrequited feelings, and it was far too late for him to say anything now.

He could only hold on to the incredible friendship that had grown between the two of you with both hands. If this was all he could ever have then he was going to cherish it, no matter how what Jonas said.

“Come on bud, let’s get you a drink,” Jonas said, smiling sadly.

Nico huffed out a laugh but nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to need one.”

~

Hours passed by, drinking, eating, catching up with friends and making new ones, until the evening was late and only the last few straggling partygoers were making their way out of the house. You’d volunteered to start cleaning up while Jonas said goodbye to his guests, needing something to do after a long day of socialising. You were making good progress on cleaning up the empty food containers and empty drink bottles when Nico wandered into the living room, holding out a bottle of water for you.

“Looks like thirsty work,” he grinned, leaning against the arm of the sofa.

“Thanks, you should try it some time,” you teased, taking the bottle from him.

You unscrewed the cap and took a couple of long gulps with your head tilted back, needing the refreshment more than you thought, but when you put the cap back on the bottle, you noticed Nico staring at you transfixed.

“What?” you frowned, “Did I spill some water?”

“No, no, it isn’t that,” he said quickly, cheeks heating.

Why was he blushing? What was going through his mind?

“Then what is it?” you prompted, putting the bottle down on the table.

“It’s just…I was thinking about…well…”

“Yes?” you prompted again, a soft smile on your face at his awkwardness.

“It wouldn’t take a tattoo for me to hold your hand,” he blurted out.

“What?”

What was he talking about…oh. Oh. What?

“Wait, shit, no, that came out wrong…”

Nico trailed off with a groan, punctuated only by the sound of a snort. You whirled around to see Jonas standing in the doorway, and he cackled at the look on both your faces.

“Yeah I’m going upstairs. Have fun dealing with your years of feelings,” Jonas grinned, shaking his head.

Oh damn. Jonas knew?

Wait, years of feelings?

With that he left you and Nico alone, a murmur suspiciously sounding like ‘lovestruck idiots’ lingering behind him. Hesitantly you looked back at Nico to see his face full of embarrassment, cheeks tinged with red.

“What was Jonas talking about?” you asked, voice a little shaky.

Because you were damn sure that Jonas didn’t know a thing about how you felt for Nico. So he had to be talking about Nico…which only succeeded in sending your heart into a flutter.

“This was not how I wanted it all to come out,” he murmured.

“Nico, please. No more talking in circles,” you all but begged.

He inhaled shakily but nodded, finally looking you in the eyes once more. “I’ve loved you ever since the movie night where we kissed.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “That was 10 years ago, Nico. We were 15! You’ve loved me since then?”

Ten long years.

“I know,” he winced, “But yes, since then.”

“You never said anything?” you said hesitantly.

Not about the kiss, and not about his feelings.

“You didn’t either? I mean, like, we never talked about the kiss. At all. I just assumed you didn’t say anything because you regretted it, and there was no way I wanted to lose you as a friend,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Of all the things he could’ve said.

“I thought you regretted it,” you admitted, “You were this up-and-coming hockey star, and I was just the neighbour down the street.”

Nico burst out laughing, hands rising to cover his face briefly.

“We’re both idiots,” he managed to choke out between laughs, “maybe me more than you.”

Maybe.

Maybe you both were idiots, but that didn’t mean you had to waste any more time. If Nico really wanted to try being more than friends, you weren’t about to stop him.

“Hey Nico?” you said, reaching forward to place a hand on his chest.

You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart, but it was the hope in his eyes that gave you courage.

“Yes, schatzi?”

“It’s been a long ten years…kiss me again?”

Nico’s only response was to do as you’d asked.

~

I’m sitting patiently, Hoping for the day to come where you can see, All the stars, they fall in line for you and me, I can’t wait for you to see too, yes, you’ll do.

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes

Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 

Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx

Masterlist

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 

Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 

Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 

A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.

“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.

“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.

“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.

“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.

“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.

“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.

“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”

“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.

“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.

“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”

“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.

The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.

“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.

“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.

“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.

“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”

“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.

“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.

Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.

“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 

You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.

You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 

Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.

“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.

Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.

“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.

“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.

“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”

“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”

“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 

“No he’s not, why would you say that?”

“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 

You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.

You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.

He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.

“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.

“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.

“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.

“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 

The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.

Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.

“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”

When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.

“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.

“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.

“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.

“You what? You move fast, man.”

“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”

“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”

The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 

Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.

“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”

“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.

“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.

“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”

“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 

You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.

“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.

“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 

“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.

“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.

“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.

“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”

“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.

You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 

Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.

“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.

“Why would they do that?”

“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.

“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.

“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”

“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.

You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.

Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 

“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.

“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.

Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.

You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 

Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.

There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.

Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.

Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.

“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.

“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”

“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.

“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.

Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.

Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 

Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 

He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.

“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.

“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.

“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.

“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.

“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.

“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.

You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 

Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.

“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.

“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.

“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.

The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.

[mitsuyeaah]

UNDIVIDED ATTENTION

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“said he got a lot of cash, darling, he can’t buy my love. it’s you i’m dreaming of.”

cw: chauffeur! sanzu, ex-delinquent! sanzu, wealthy! reader, m! OC (briefly), modern au, age gap (haru is 27 & reader is 23), slight mutual pining, angst, fluff, smut mdni (intoxicated consensual sex), nsfw, virginity loss, forbidden love, swearing, mention of scars, mention of drugs, use of weed, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl), lazily proofread (sorry in advance).

word count: 13.8k i'm so sorry

a/n: here's a little treat before my break ends! hope you guys enjoy! also, i don’t know when i’ll write something long again but we shall see :") © divider: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

The smell of expensive leather mixed with the cologne your chauffeur wore filled your lungs as you sank back into the plush leather of the backseat of your vehicle. The lights outside dimly lit the quiet car, you stared out the window, observing the tall buildings that almost touched the clouds and billboards that surrounded the bustling city.

People were out and about, some dressed up–for what you presumed to be for the club–getting ready to start the night, some were hastily walking out of their work buildings, their IDs swaying around their neck with every step they took. You would never know what it felt like to spend your Friday night dressing up for the club, instead, you related more to the latter group of people. 

It was another stressful day at work, meetings followed after one another. It also didn’t help that more projects were handed over to you because you were ‘going to be the next successor of this company’ as per your father’s words. You let out a sigh and rested your head on the head rest, closing your eyes and letting the music and soft hum of the car engulf you.

“Sanzu?” you broke the comfortable silence, your chauffeur briefly looked at you from the rear mirror before focusing back on the road ahead of him, your eyes were still closed, “Yes, Miss?” he quietly replied.

“I don’t want to go home yet…” you muttered, placing an arm over your eyes, as if it would somehow erase all your problems. He nodded, even though you couldn’t see him and replied, “Understood.” Sanzu knew what you meant by that, he’s only been your chauffeur for 3 months, but he’s memorized every single one of your demands, no matter how vague they are.

In this case, you wanted to drop by a specific park where you spent most of your childhood playing. He knew that you went there every single time you were stressed or upset about something, Sanzu knew because he’s been driving you to this park countless times in a span of 3 months, and those times, you were always either stressed or upset.

He muttered a silent ‘we’re here’ as he turned off the engine, Sanzu held onto the wheel with his left hand and slightly turned his body to face you. You removed your arm from your eyes and let out a soft sigh as you stepped out of the vehicle, you were met with the crisp winter evening air, slightly shivering as it made contact with your warm skin.

You made your way over to the wooden bench you always sat on, it overlooked the grassy fields and the now leafless trees surrounding the place. Sanzu followed you wordlessly, at this point, he already knew what to do and it was basically routine for him.

You didn’t mind having your chauffeur by your side as you mulled over your thoughts, in fact, it was your initial idea to have him sit with you.

You didn’t expect anything from him but his mere presence, and he also didn’t mind sitting there, there was no awkward tension at all. After all, you’ve done this so many times in the past. Sanzu sat next to you, leaving an appropriate space in between and neatly folding his arms on his lap.

You turned your head to the older man next to you and furrowed your brows, “I told you, you don’t have to wear that when you’re with me… which is basically almost twenty-four seven, so you don’t have to wear it at all.”

He was wearing that stupid black mask again, which covered any facial features lower than his turquoise eyes.

You studied him, your eyes tracing his side profile. Sanzu wore his long pink hair in a ponytail, shorter loose strands framing the left side of his face, he also sported one black hoop earring in each ear but you knew he had more piercings than that, something you’ve grown fond of.

The way the warm streetlight illuminated his profile warmed something in your chest, and the way his turquoise eyes turned a shade warmer..

“Your father saw me without it… you can guess what happened next.” Sanzu shrugged, looking over at you, his facial muscles flexing under his mask—you presumed he was smiling under it but not a genuine one, it didn’t reach his eyes.

The reason for the black mask that sat on Sanzu’s face was unnecessary. It was enforced by your father that he had to wear it at all times as Sanzu possessed scars on either corner of his lips, almost in the shape of a diamond.

Your father was strict when it came to the company’s reputation, and apparently strict enough to ask your personal driver to cover his scarred face, though you thought it was purely not needed as Sanzu was just a chauffeur.

You also didn’t like the way your father asked Sanzu to minimize his earrings down to one jewelry per ear, again, completely unnecessary.

If you were being honest, your father was never fond of Sanzu and did not even have intentions of hiring him as your personal driver.

Your father only hired Sanzu because you insisted you liked him the most out of all potential chauffeur candidates, despite the man not having past experience for the job at hand but you didn’t care, the job required was to just drive anyway.

Sanzu explained during his interview for this job that he’s an ex-delinquent–another reason why your father did not like Sanzu–but has changed his ways and is now trying to live a better life, a normal one at that.

His reasoning moved you in some way, you felt the genuinity in his words which indicated that he was serious about this new path he’s taking, Sanzu was also a bit hesitant to discuss this during the interview as he felt like it was too late for him to do so since he was already twenty-seven years old–four years older than you–but you reassured him during the interview that it was never too late to change to a better path.

Sanzu has been nothing but a polite individual, he was not a man of too many words and often opted to just listen, even if it was just the both of you. Sometimes you wonder what runs through his mind.

“Well, my father is not here, so you can take it off. And I’ll tell him to lay off about that damn mask, I don’t like it on you.” you scoffed, already not liking the idea of your father scolding Sanzu for not wearing his mask.

The older man nodded and hesitantly brought his hands up to either side of his face to unhook the mask from his pierced ears. A small shiver ran down Sanzu’s back as the cold air kissed the hot skin that had been confined under the suffocating mask.

All while he was doing this, a small smile dawned upon your face, he was breathtaking.

“You know, I don’t really mind wearing a mask… it makes people stare less at my face.” Sanzu’s gaze dropped down to his hands as he neatly folded the mask and pocketed it.

He wasn’t going to lie, he liked the feeling of breathing air without a piece of cloth confining his nose and mouth but he just felt more vulnerable without it, especially when strangers didn’t bother to hide their disgust when staring.

Conversely, the mask lessened the attention on him, and he felt less vulnerable with the way it covered his emotions.

Upon hearing this, you frowned. You didn’t like the way Sanzu got so comfortable with hiding himself from the world because of the nasty stares he got from just being himself.

There was literally nothing to cover, Sanzu was just as beautiful with or without his scars, and they definitely don’t define him. Something people needed to keep in mind. You refrained from complimenting him out loud because it would be a bit awkward as you two weren’t that close, yet.

“But I don’t mind and I think that’s the only opinion that matters because I hired you, and you work for me. So, fuck everyone else, they’re just projecting their insecurities.”

You never really knew how Sanzu got his scars and you didn’t want to ask since he was clearly insecure about them but you presumed he got it from his delinquent days. Just a mere guess though.

Sanzu chuckled at your reply, he thought you were cute but still very naïve. He gave you a smile, a genuine one, “Technically, your father hired me.” you playfully shook your head at him, muttering ‘that’s basically the same thing’ under your breath.

The two of you spent an hour or so like this, a friendly banter occurring back and forth at times. It definitely de-stressed you a lot, which you were thankful for Sanzu for the most part, as he was the only one listening to your endless rants about your personal life and job.

“You wanna know why I wanted to come here tonight?” you dryly chuckled, your gaze shifting down to your hands as you fiddled with your fingers and picked at your skin. Sanzu noticed that it was a habit of yours to do that every time you had something in your mind that bothered you. He also stared at your hands, “Why?”

It took you about a full minute to answer before letting out a heavy sigh and finally looking back at him, fingers still picking at your skin, “It’s my birthday today.” you forced a smile.

Sanzu barely showed any emotions but he was visibly shocked at this, his brows shooting upwards, eyes widening and his scarred mouth slightly parting.

Genuine shock soon turned into confusion, brows furrowing as he asked you, “Why aren’t you spending time with your family? I’m sure they’d organized something for you.”

Sanzu genuinely believed this. Your family was wealthy so it confused him as to why your parents wouldn’t plan something extravagant on your 23rd birthday, like what other rich people did.

You were a child of a very wealthy man who owned one of the biggest marketing firms in the country, so it confused him a bit.

You shook your head and let out another sigh as you threw your head back and looked up at the vast sky above, “Nah… I grew up spending my birthdays alone. I would always come home to the same thing every year, a big bouquet of flowers, stacks of presents and a tiered cake. It was nice at first but I got tired of it… I never once spent my birthday with them after the age of 5.” you replied, still looking up at the stars.

Your parents were the type of people to think they could keep you happy by giving you whatever you wanted, and it did, for only a short period of time. But what you really wanted was some quality time and their undivided attention, they were always so caught up on work that they forgot about their only child.

Guess they did not, in fact, give you whatever you wanted.

Sanzu truly felt sorry for you, he’s definitely got a gist of how your family functions with only 3 months of working for you, both your parents were work-driven and managed to prioritize the company before their child’s own needs.

He felt kind of bad for assuming you were just another spoiled wealthy kid when he first started his job. Sanzu had picked you up from your family-owned company one night, a big bouquet of red roses sitting in the back seat, its scent filling the car.

Your father had apparently gotten you the roses as a congratulatory gift for being promoted, at least that’s what he told Sanzu.

He remembered how you stepped into the car and didn’t even bat an eye at the expensive gift, Sanzu looked at you through the rear-view mirror as you read the handwritten letter attached on the bouquet–presuming it was written by your father–you simply just sighed and tossed it back to the general direction of the roses.

He was a bit taken back by your behaviour but remained silent as he backed out of the parking space and into the busy streets.

Now, he understood why you acted that way that night. You were just so used to your parents giving you all these gifts that it lost all its monetary value, no matter how expensive they were.

Sanzu knew that what you truly sought out was some quality time from your parents, you didn’t need expensive gifts, you needed their love and attention just like any other kid growing up.

Even though the two of you lived very different lives, he was somewhat relating to your situation. Growing up, he never had proper parental figures, god, he didn’t even know them that much as his parents were barely home and probably fucked around with drugs, which left him and his siblings to fend for themselves.

Unlike you, he had two siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. His older brother was no different, he focused more on their younger sister which isolated Sanzu a lot but he did have his younger sister, although their relationship wasn’t the very best.

“I’m sorry. Happy Birthday.” was all Sanzu could reply, his gaze softened as he stared at your side profile, you were still admiring the stars.

You chuckled and finally looked at him and held his aquamarine gaze, “You don’t have to be, it’s not your fault… and thank you.” Sanzu’s chest warmed as he saw a glint of happiness in your eyes, he swore you were about to cry but blinked away the tears threatening to form.

You didn’t know why but his greeting genuinely made you happy, “You must think I’m so lame, I only have my chauffeur to rant to.” you scoffed and looked away once again, this time scanning the tree lines ahead of you.

He didn’t think you were lame, you were quite the opposite. Sanzu understood the demands your parents asked from you–with the amount of times you’ve ranted to him–and figured you didn’t live a very memorable childhood despite being surrounded by endless wealth.

You were only in your early twenties but he felt you were much more mature despite your young age, it was probably due to the fact that you had expectations to uphold and roles to fill.

“No. I think you’re okay.” this was the first time Sanzu has spoken more than ever for the past three months you’ve had him working for you, he was actually actively engaging in the conversation and not just the occasional nods and hums he gave when you ranted before, you appreciated this from him, more than he knew.

Your night was cut short when you remembered you had something early the next day, even though it was the weekend. Sanzu drove you back home and didn’t forget to greet you ‘happy birthday’ one last time before he hopped onto his motorcycle–that was parked inside the garage–and rode home.

You smiled to yourself like an idiot as you made your way inside your family estate, he made you happy, something not a lot of people can do.

As expected, you were met with your usual birthday presents, but this time you weren’t surrounded by maids and butlers. You stood in front of the dining hall, the long mahogany table stretching from one end to another filled with meals you get more than usual on your birthday.

The chairs were also occupied by your parents and three other guests you didn’t know, this surprised you as you’ve spent countless birthdays sitting on one end of the table, alone and no one to talk to but the maids and butlers that stood by if you needed anything. At least they were always nice enough to sing you a ‘happy birthday’ to lighten the damp mood.

You furrowed your brows at the three unknown guests, the last thing you expected was your parents actually showing up for your birthday and bringing in unknown guests to dine with.

Sure, the estate was often filled with unknown guests which you assumed were close business partners of your father and the company but you never had to dine with them.

The unknown older man sat on the other end of the table, opposite your father, whereas the older woman–probably his wife–sat across from your mother, both were around the age of your parents, and the last person was a young man probably around your age as well but you didn’t recognize him.

“Happy Birthday! We’ve been waiting for you, come and have a seat!” your father greeted you from one end of the table, a saccharine smile forming upon his lips.

You hesitantly made your way over to the only empty seat–which was across from the young man you have yet to be introduced to–and muttered a small ‘thank you’.

The young man opposite you gave you a shy smile before taking a sip of his red wine. “I want you to meet one of our most trusted business partners, the FJ group, and this is their son Heizo Fujio.” your father indicated the young man opposite you, you politely greeted them.

You’ve heard of the FJ group before, they were one of the top selling retail companies in the country with an average revenue sitting in the billions area and their brands always successfully making profit.

You could finally put a face to the owner of the FJ group but it wasn’t like you were desperate to do so. The young man–Heizo–gave you another smile upon his introduction, politely jutting his arm across the table and in front of you, you didn’t hesitate to shake his hand and return his smile but you were still confused as to why they were here.

As if on cue, your father spoke up once again with delight in his eyes, something inside you didn’t like that look in his eyes, not anticipating what was coming next.

“Mr. Fujio and I have been discussing you and Heizo… and we were thinking since both of you are our next successors, it would be in our best interest for you two to personally know each other, with marriage in mind. We have been business partners for so long and we feel like we’re ready to take it a step further.”

You didn’t know what to say.

You sat there frozen in your seat, the sound of your heart drumming rapidly against your chest engulfing you as your mind reeled. First of all, what the fuck? And second of all, I didn’t consent to this. That’s what you wanted to say but your parents raised you better than to disrespect the food on the table.

Your breathing became erratic as you could feel your limbs tingling, you wanted to do something but didn’t know what. You hated this feeling because it only came around when you knew you couldn’t do anything about the situation at hand. It was beyond your control.

Overreacting? Probably.

And yes, you haven’t met Heizo nor explored his personality and it also doesn’t mean that he might not turn out so bad but the idea of marriage was just… too soon.

You only just turned twenty-three today, you were still young and had a bright future ahead of you, and marriage was just something you haven’t thought of, especially since you’re always busy with the firm and practically have no time to get to know anyone.

Your eyes darted around the table, all of them seemed to be pleased about this news, especially Heizo. You felt like an outcast, it felt like someone had told an inside joke that they all knew except for you. Were you the only one thinking things are being rushed? Even your mother was nodding along.

Nothing came out as you opened your mouth, you thought of ways to counter this idea or at least let them re-think about the marriage. But there was nothing. Your mind went blank and you felt helpless. You didn’t know why but amidst the blankness of your mind, you swore you saw Sanzu.

—

Sanzu briefly glanced at you through the rear view mirror while he waited for the vehicle engine to warm up, you sat at the back seat and your beige trenchcoat wrapping around your body as you crossed your arms and looked outside the window.

He noticed your hair was styled in a ponytail, and you wore your signature diamond drop earrings that probably cost more than his life; from what he’s gathered, you only wore the pair during formal occasions.

“Heading to the firm today, right?” he asked.

You glanced over at your chauffeur, earrings swaying at every movement, he sported his usual white button up and black slacks but this time accompanied with a black bomber jacket due to the colder season.

A smile appeared upon your lips, seeing that he didn’t wear his mask, Sanzu noticed your smile. “Oh, I forgot to text you that my morning meeting for today has been rescheduled. I have a date with Heizo… so we’ll head over to FJ since they suggested we take one car.” He noticed the corners of your lips dropping as you replied.

Oh, so that’s what the earrings were for. You had a date. Sanzu thought.

This was the first time Sanzu had to drive you on a date, majority of the time he just drove you to and from work, with some other trips to leisure places like high-end stores where you came back with a shit ton of bags that housed varieties of luxury items.

You definitely had a keen eye for pretty things.

There was even one time where you asked him to accompany you to browse the autumn collection of a high-end clothing brand and he swore he’s never kept his hands to himself as much as he did inside the store, with the fear of accidentally damaging items worth more than his life.

Sanzu felt something odd in his chest at the thought of you going on a date with another man but he quickly brushed it off and nodded before he started typing the address of the FJ Group on the built-in screen of your vehicle.

The car ride was mainly silent but not uncomfortable. From time to time, he glanced over at you through the rear view mirror, your brows knitted together and occasionally letting out deep sighs that felt like there was something heavy behind it all, something that clouded your mind.

There was something bothering you but Sanzu didn’t want to pry.

He would never admit this to anyone else but it pained him whenever something bothered you, he knew the strict life you lived under the control of your parents and he knew the expectations you desperately tried to reach, and sometimes he would just wish that you had one genuine day where you were free from it all; the expectations, the stress, and the calculated future you had ahead of you.

But little did he know you were free from all that but only when you were with him.

Sanzu drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel, nodding his head to the music while you both waited for Heizo; the car was parked–but still running–in the basement parking lot of the FJ Group firm.

He was eager to finally put a face to the name since it's been clouding his mind ever since you told him about it. Was he handsome? Well dressed? Was he good for you? These questions ran through Sanzu’s mind and he had to mentally stop himself from thinking about them as it didn’t even concern him. After all, he’s just a mere chauffeur, your chauffeur.

A fairly tall man exited the building which caught Sanzu’s turquoise gaze, he stopped drumming his fingers and focused on the man making his way towards your black Porsche.

Heizo was wearing a white button up paired with a navy blue vest and slacks, topping the outfit off with a black trench coat. Sanzu thought he looked absolutely charismatic despite being effortless, he felt a slight pang of jealousy. He didn’t know why.

Heizo enthusiastically greeted you as he entered the vehicle, his expensive musky cologne immediately filling up the car which made Sanzu almost gag at the smell, it overpowered your sweet scented perfume, the perfume you always wore and he’s grown to love.

The pink haired man silently watched as Heizo scooted all the way to the middle seat of the vehicle, leaving almost no room between the two of you, he also noticed the way you uncomfortably leaned closer towards the car door.

It was almost painful for Sanzu to hide his expression at Heizo’s brazenness, he could tell you two weren’t close with the way you shifted against the leather seat.

“We’re headed to The Black Pearl.” Heizo turned his attention to Sanzu.

Sanzu briefly looked back at the man next to you and nodded, but he didn’t miss the way Heizo’s gaze lingered at his scarred lips, a little too long for his liking. Sanzu also didn’t miss the way his face contorted ever so slightly with pure disgust before turning his attention back to you.

Sanzu cleared his throat and looked ahead of him, uncomfortably shifting in his seat before pulling out of the parking space.

—

It was already late in the afternoon and had just dropped off Heizo at their place. You watched as the man waved from the marble steps and hastily made his way inside their mansion.

Before Sanzu could drive off, you told him to wait and quickly got out of the back passenger seat, making your way over to the front passenger seat and sitting next to Sanzu.

He was taken aback by your bold move, his keen turquoise eyes watching you fasten your seatbelt.

“...You okay?” he asked as you made yourself comfortable against the expensive leather material of the seat. You met his aquamarine gaze and gave him a smile that shouldn’t have made him suck in a breath and his heart skip a beat, “I’m fine, just wanted to sit here.” you shrugged and looked out the window.

Sanzu stared at you for a couple more seconds, studying every single one of your features, you looked content. Definitely a contrast from your mood just a few minutes earlier when Heizo was still in the car.

Sanzu traced the outline of your pretty face and the way the corner of your lips were slightly upturned, like you were trying to hide a smile but failed to do so.

He inhaled a shallow breath as felt something inside him, something in his chest; he doesn’t know when he’s been feeling this sensation but it’s different, something he’s never felt before. It felt warm and comfortable, and he wanted to grasp every single bit of this feeling but something deep within tells him that it might be dangerous.

It wouldn’t hurt to test the waters, right? Test whatever he was feeling.

He gripped the steering in front of him and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the warmth was now spreading up his neck and to his cheeks and ears. Sanzu put the car on ‘drive’ and started driving before his mind could think of any other thoughts that would confuse him.

The date went okay.

That was the only word you could think of, nothing more, nothing less. You didn’t really expect much from Heizo but you also didn’t expect less from him.

You two just didn’t… click, all he talked about was how many successful projects he had launched, how he was the sole reason for having a higher percentage of sales than last year, and how— basically all the business talk.

Although, the only thing that stuck to you was that Heizo was the same age as you, not that it mattered.

You didn’t care about the business talk he brought upon the table, nor did you care about the fact that he–on your very first date–bought you expensive jewellery and from his words, which was ‘one of a kind’ as he had gotten it specifically catered to you. Whatever the fuck that meant.

You remember blankly staring at the necklace that rested inside a black velvet box, every single diamond twinkling under the restaurant lights.

You remember the proud look on Heizo’s face, like he had done something out of this world, like he thought he had already won your heart by merely buying you something expensive. Maybe it’s the thought that counts.

Just like my parents, you thought.

There was no genuine connection between you and him because you two clearly had different ideas in mind when thinking about what to talk about on a first date.

If you actually saw potential in Heizo and tried, you would have wanted to get to know him. You didn’t wanna know about what fantastic deals he’s closed, how much he contributed to the company sales, nor how much he spent on that necklace he got you.

You would’ve wanted to know about his interests and what he does in his free time to entertain himself.

In this world, you feel that people forget so much about the little things, the little things that matter. Nowadays everyone focuses solely on the monetary value and often forget that one of the foundations of love is attention, being attentive towards their partner and fulfilling their physical and mental needs with what they actually need.

People often mistaken that going for a materialistic approach will fulfil one’s needs but it doesn’t.

Sanzu had the urge to ask how your date went, he could feel the question building in his throat but had to quickly swallow it down because it did not concern him in any way. But it’s as if you read his mind, you broke the silence in the vehicle, “It was awful.” you scoffed.

“All he talked about were business-related things and was just basically flaunting his money. The audacity of him to think he’d be able to win me over by using his wealth… I mean like, not that he has a chance but you get what I mean, right?” You turned your head to the pink haired man, his aquamarine eyes focused on the road but you knew he was listening intently with the way he nodded his head and gave you a hum.

“Goodness, what a fool he is if he thinks he can buy my love.” 

“The last time I went on a date was when I was twenty and I kid you not, these men have not changed. Thinking that all the ladies would be impressed about being rich.” you continued your rant, Sanzu has never seen you this worked up over something, it amused him a bit and thought you were cute.

“Hm. Maybe because I’ve been looking in the wrong direction for a real man." he could feel your burning gaze on the side of his face and it took him all his willpower not to look back at you because he had to focus on the road.

But fuck, his heart was beating so fast. Last time his heart beat this fast was when he took unknown pills to try and forget everything.

All you wanted was someone different, like a breath of fresh air, someone genuinely interested in you and your personality. Yes, Heizo was wealthy and you both were in the same tax bracket but what is he underneath all that wealth? What kind of person would he be?

Later that night, after his job for the day was over, Sanzu went for a night drive with his motorcycle. He wanted to clear his head because all he could think of was you.

The way your lip gloss complemented your lips, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, the way your eyes twinkled every time— Fuck, this is unprofessional, he cursed himself.

How could he be thinking about you like that? You were so sweet and nice, and the sole reason why he got this job, so he couldn’t compromise his position by thinking this way.

But you were just so pure and so innocent that he wanted to ruin you, to ravage every single ounce of your innocence— “Fuck.” he whispered to himself as he sat on his still motorcycle. He wanted to smoke so bad but he knew better than getting high and riding back home.

As soon as you got home, you managed to convince your parents that you didn’t think things with Heizo were going to escalate further than being just business partners and to your surprise, they took it quite well, especially your father.

He even mentioned that maybe you two weren’t actually compatible from the beginning. This relieved you as you thought they would finally let the marriage idea go.

You thought wrong.

For the past few days, you finally knew why your parents were able to let that whole situation with Heizo go down the drain and it was because they found you new suitors.

Yes, plural. Apparently they had a whole list of your potential suitors and Heizo was just one of the many, this made you question your parents why they were so desperate to get you a husband. After all, you were only at the ripe age of twenty-three.

Just as you expected, it was for the future of the company. Like it always had been when it came to your life. Pursue a business degree, it’s for the sake of your future and the company, they told you and so you did. Focus on your studies and quit messing around, you’re the future of the company, they told you and so you did.

They reminded you countless times how you were the future and successor of the company that it almost became embedded in your brain, you had expectations to reach and roles to keep up with, but at the same time, your parents forgot that who they were pressuring was just a mere child.

They didn’t know the heavy weight you had to carry upon your back, practically sacrificing your mental and physical well being for the sake of the company. It also didn’t help how apathetic they were; they missed your birthdays, your university graduation ceremony, and most importantly they never gave you the love and attention you wanted.

Gifts were given to you in exchange for your parents’ absence.

Your whole schedule was practically cleared just to go on dates for your potential suitors and Sanzu was surprised when you told him about your current situation, and why he had to drive you everywhere but to your work.

It was yet another one of those days where you had just finished a date with another suitor, you were growing so damn tired of it, of everything. Every single one of these men–more like boys–were just what you expected.

No one stood out and no one bothered to make a genuine connection with you. You were met with all sorts of strategies and presents that were used to woo you but none of them worked because at the end of the day, they were all just the same, they only had wealth to brag about.

In between the dates you went on, you got closer to Sanzu, close enough that you were both now on a first name basis and you were even sitting more frequently beside him while he drove.

You also noticed how much he has opened up to you, he barely wore his mask and wouldn’t hesitate to give you hearty laughs whenever you tried to lighten the mood.

It didn’t even feel like he was your chauffeur but instead a friend. A friend who you could lean on, a friend who didn’t base you solely on your status, a friend who saw you for who you really were.

A friend who gave his undivided attention.

Although, the funny thing was that during your dates, your mind started to wonder what traits you were looking for in a partner because you clearly already knew what you didn’t want in a partner. During these, you would often find yourself comparing every single one of your suitors to a particular someone.

Haruchiyo.

Every time someone new came, your mind went back to Haruchiyo and thought about how they were nowhere near his personality that you’ve grown so fond of.

You looked for Haruchiyo Sanzu in every guy you went on a date with.

And at that moment, that was when you finally noticed your feelings that had been lingering and laying dormant deep in your heart. The dates you went on awakened your feelings for him.

You were in love with Haruchiyo.

You sat there, frozen while blankly staring at the road ahead of you as you came to the realisation that you loved him. You didn’t even know you were gripping the fabric of your pants until Haruchiyo asked if you were okay and pointed it out as he briefly glanced over your way and back to the road, “Hm? I’m fine…” you murmured.

Haru was the best person you could imagine to fall in love with but the situation was complicated. It was a risk and you never took risks, everything in your life was calculated and planned out for you. Besides, you didn’t even know if he even felt the same way.

“Have you ever been in love, Haru?” you leaned your head onto the headrest and turned your head to him, lips jutting out in a slight pout.

God, he liked it so much when you used his nickname, it did unexplainable things to him. Haruchiyo waited for the car to come to a complete stop at the lights before turning to you and holding your curious gaze.

It took him a few seconds to answer, like he was wracking his brain around to find the most suitable reply, “Hm… I guess I could say yes.” you nodded before dropping your gaze and looking out the window, how lucky she must be, you thought.

“What made you ask?” he questioned, returning his focus back on the road as the light turned green.

You shook your head, still looking out the window, “...Nothing. It’s just that I think— no, I am in love with a certain someone but it’s complicated.” you let out a huff and avoided looking back at the man that made your heart ache and skip a beat.

His brows shot up at your sudden confession, Haruchiyo gripped the steering wheel a little harder as he felt jealousy engulfing his body, “Oh? One of your suitors? Isn’t that good?” it pained him trying to force himself to sound like he cared. But he didn’t, he didn’t give a single fuck about it.

“No and no. That’s the thing… he’s not a suitor that my parents have picked out.” you covered your face with your palms, groaning into them. This feeling drove you crazy, you wanted Haruchiyo so bad, you yearned for him but didn’t know how to approach the situation.

Haruchiyo’s heart skipped a beat at this; there it was again, the warm feeling that spread throughout his body but this time he knew what it was.  There was this ounce of hope that kept him going, that you would see him as a man and not just someone who worked for you.

“Ah… then who is it?”

Haruchiyo did his best to remove all traces of desperation laced in his tone. He took deep breaths while waiting for your answer. He wanted to look at you so badly but he needed to focus on the road, he wanted to see your expression right this very moment.

You remained silent at his question but your mind was screaming for you to tell him how you truly felt. Your limbs were tingling, your heart was racing and your mind was going crazy; the confession was stuck in your throat but you couldn’t physically bring yourself to do it because you were scared to take the risk.

But at the same time, this was a risk for yourself. Your very own decision and not made by someone else.

Your fists clenched on your lap as you prepared yourself, your leg bounced with anxiety as tension grew, slowly filling the vehicle as his question remained unanswered. You bit your lip, desperate to tell Haruchiyo how you really felt about him.

Fuck it. was your last thought before opening your mouth to confess.

“It’s you. I’m in love with you Haru.”

Haruchiyo Sanzu almost fucking choked on his saliva. His brows shot up and mouth slowly parted at your sudden confession, he didn’t know what to say, his throat was suddenly dry. Haruchiyo felt like he was intoxicated, his legs and arms felt lighter, everything just felt so different.

Fuck, was the music always this loud? He thought. His mind raced as he played your confession over and over again, and without fail, it made his body warmer.

He was fucking ecstatic. You love him back. He wanted to just lean over across the console and kiss you so badly but he couldn’t, you were so close yet so far away from him.

“Fuck, princess, you can’t just confess like that while I’m in the middle of driving.” he let out a sharp breath followed by a breathy chuckle.

Before you knew it, Haruchiyo was already pulling into the garage, he swiftly parked the vehicle and turned it off before turning to you. Silence engulfed you both as you held each other’s stares, you swore your ears started to ring with how intense his gaze was.

You blinked, “D-do you feel the same way?” you broke the silence, studying Haruchiyo’s face, he was truly beautiful, the way his long pretty lashes complimented his turquoise eyes. He briefly closed his eyes and opened them again, nodding his head, “Is that even a question?”

A smile made its way to your lips and your eyes twinkled as you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes. “I really want to kiss you right now… but I’ve never kissed anyone and I don’t really know how…” you trailed off, avoiding his turquoise eyes as your cheeks warmed at your silly confession.

You stared at his lips, it was so tempting. Haruchiyo noticed you staring at his lips and thickly swallowed, normally he would start feeling uncomfortable if it were any other person that stared at his lips but it was different with you.

With you, he didn’t have to reel back and hide his biggest insecurity. Your gaze felt warm, there were no signs of disgust and judgement, only love.

“I can help you out… if you want.” Haruchiyo replied, his voice dropping an octave lower.

“Please, Haru?”

Haruchiyo swore under his breath as you begged for him. He wasted no time leaning over the console and reaching for you, placing a firm hand on the side of your neck as he desperately pulled you closer to him and sealing the gap between your lips.

His kisses were slow and sensual, it was your first time after all so he wanted you to feel all of him. Your lips perfectly moulded against each other, he was so warm and soft that you almost didn’t mind doing this all day.

You desperately clawed at the fabric of his chest, wanting more of Haruchiyo’s kisses. The ringing in your ears got louder as you kissed him longer, your legs felt weak even though you were sitting down, and your head spun. It felt so so good. The way your body reacted to his kisses was something you’ve never felt before.

Something within Haruchiyo stirred when you let out a whine as he started rubbing the side of your neck using the thumb of the hand that was firmly placed there. He’s barely even touched you properly and you were already whining for him? How cute. He’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Haruchiyo was about to stick his tongue in your mouth until he heard the garage door open. You both lunged away from each other at the loud sound, desperate to catch your breaths.

You bit your lip at the state of the man in front of you, his cheeks were dusted pink, lips swollen and letting out soft pants as his chest desperately rose up and down. Beautiful, you thought.

“Oh fuck, it’s your father.” Haruchiyo’s lust-filled eyes widened, reaching for his pocket and quickly slipping his mask on, you both desperately tried to fix yourselves up before exiting the vehicle and pretending like you two weren’t just sucking the life out of each other a few seconds ago.

Your father greeted the both of you before hopping into his own car with his personal driver. You headed for the door that led inside the estate while Haruchiyo headed for his motorcycle, you both looked back at each other and gave shy smiles before parting ways.

Later that night, you had asked Haruchiyo to meet up and discuss this whole situation and he was grateful for this as he didn’t really know where he stood at that moment, plus, there were hundreds of questions running through his mind.

Yes he was ecstatic about the mutuality of both your feelings, but this was the real world, you were both adults that led very different lives and he knew this wasn’t going to be easy for the both of you… if you two agree to go down the path of establishing a relationship.

You snuck out from your room, heart drumming against your chest as it was your first time doing this. You’ve never snuck out and barely disobeyed your parents so this was clearly an uncommon ground for you and the thought of being caught sneaking out scared you, especially if you were caught by your father.

Haruchiyo waited in front of the garage, sitting under the starry night sky as he leaned on his motorcycle. A small smile crept up your lips as you spotted him and as if on cue, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

He didn’t sport his usual white button up and slacks, instead opting for dark denim pants, black turtleneck, and a leather jacket to top it off; he also wore his hair down which sat past his shoulders.

“You look nice.” you tilted your head up to him, eyes twinkling like the stars in the dark sky.

The corner of his lips twitched up, he muttered a shy ‘thanks’ before handing you a helmet. You placed the black helmet over your head as Haruchiyo hopped on his motorcycle and turned it on, you followed suit, struggling to get on due to being shorter but nonetheless managed to, with the help of the older man.

“Hold on tight. Don’t let go.” Haruchiyo reached behind him and took both of your arms, encircling them around his waist. You nodded, although you knew he couldn’t see you.

As Haruchiyo revved the engine of his motorcycle, your arms tightened around his waist, interlocking your hands that rested on his stomach and leaned your encased head against his back.

He couldn’t help but smirk at your behaviour.

With that, the both of you speed into the darkness of the night, the stars dwelling upon you both. Twinkling like they were happy for you two and your newfound love for each other.

The cold air hit you as Haru manoeuvred his way to your destination, it felt nice riding the motorcycle. You were hesitant at first but managed to relax since Haruchiyo was with you, you felt the safest when you were with him.

It didn’t take too long before the two of you reached the all too familiar destination.

The Park.

The both of you sat sideways on his motorcycle, shoulders touching one another while basking in comfortable silence. “...Why me?” Haruchiyo broke the silence, genuine curiosity laced within his question.

“I mean, you practically have guys begging to be with you. All those expensive gifts, their money, their status… and I’m just… me. A lowly individual who definitely doesn’t make half as much as you do.”

Haruchiyo was genuinely confused as to why you even fell in love with him. It didn’t make sense. He’s done so many wrong things in his life, he wasn’t even making that much money and probably couldn’t provide even if he wanted to and he definitely didn’t even match up to your suitors.

They were wealthy and he was… just normal.

“You’re young and you have a great life ahead of you, so why choose someone like me? Why not go for someone near your age?” He continued.

You chuckled, “That’s the thing. I fell in love with you because you’re you.”

“I don’t care if they’re wealthy and bought me expensive gifts. Those don’t mean anything to me, and you of all people should know that by now. But you, on the other hand… you’re different. Yes, you might claim to have nothing and that’s okay with me, because all I’m after is your love and attention that you did not fail to give me every single time.”

“They could never buy my love with expensive gifts, but you were able to buy my love with attention because that’s all I’ve ever wanted, Haru.” you leaned your head on his shoulder, a sad smile forming on your lips.

Yes, Haruchiyo did not have the wealth to offer you like your suitors had but he offered you something greater, something you’ve been asking for your whole life and that was undivided attention.

He was attentive and listened to you like you were the most interesting person in the whole world–which in fact, he did think you are–, he has been nothing but sweet to you and you couldn’t help but fall in love with all that.

You couldn’t help but fall in love with a man who had no wealth to offer you.

And that was more than okay.

“Also, I don’t care if you’re older than me, it doesn’t matter. All my suitors were merely boys, I’m after a man who knows how to treat me well.”

Haruchiyo couldn’t help but laugh at your sentence, he reached for one of your cold hands and started rubbing them in between his own, tracing unfamiliar shapes on your palm, he leaned his cheek on top of your head and let out a sigh. “I really want to kiss you right now…”

You removed your head from his shoulder which made him look down at you, you met his gaze, “What’s holding you back, Haru? Kiss me.”

You’ll be the fucking death of him.

Haruchiyo obeyed and leaned down to close the gap between the two of you, both your lips cold from the winter air. His kisses were different this time, way different. Haruchiyo kissed with desperation, both his palms cupping your frozen cheeks as he desperately tried to get closer to you.

He didn’t hesitate to stick his tongue past your lips, to which you moaned at the foreign feeling. Everything felt so good, the way his tongue moved against your own, the way he tasted, and the way he firmly held you against his lips.

Haruchiyo trailed hot kisses along your jawline, making you shiver from the contrast of the cold temperature.

“Fuck… this is so unprofessional.” he whispered against the hot skin of your neck before lightly sucking on it. “I don’t— mhm! I don’t see you stopping though…” you angled your head up at the starry sky to give him more access to your neck, your hands making their way to his rosy pink hair and tugging at them.

Haruchiyo let out a low growl, chills running down his spine as you pulled at his hair, “Hmm? You seem to be enjoying yourself.” he chuckled as he gave your neck a peck before pulling away and looking at your flustered state.

Your lips were swollen and soft pants slipped past them as you stared at him with a clouded gaze. He’s barely even touched you and you’re already a mess.

“But… What about your father?” he suddenly looked concerned. The look in his eyes changing from lust to anxiety, he bit his lip at the thought of your father’s wrath. He wasn’t afraid of what your father would do to him, rather he was afraid of what would happen to you.

You were scared.

You knew your father never liked Haruchiyo, not even a single ounce of him but he tolerated Haru for your sake. He hired him for your sake. You were definitely scared of your father finding out about the two of you, there were a lot of reasons to be.

The first one being Haruchiyo not fitting into his standards. You two led very different lives and you could already hear the other companies and media gossiping about you and how you fell in love with your chauffeur who was an ex-delinquent.

You could see your father doing everything he could to make sure you’d have no contact with Haruchiyo.

You shook your head and buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent, it helped calm you down a bit. “I-i don’t know, Haru… I’m scared but all I know is that I want to be with you.” he placed a hand behind your head and stroked your hair, reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what happened.

But deep down, he was scared shitless. Not because of your father but because he knew that the universe could easily take you away from his grasp and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, because that was life. Life was cruel and harsh, and he didn’t always get what he wanted, no matter how much he prayed to the stars above him.

This time, he wished the universe would listen to him just this once. He could be stripped away of everything for all he cared for but he wouldn’t know what to do if it was you who was taken away from him.

It pained his chest just thinking about it.

A few weeks have passed since establishing your relationship with Haruchiyo, in secret of course.

You two had gotten closer to each other and spent more time together in the evening–away from everyone’s prying eyes–after he picked you up from work, and you always looked forward to them because he truly made you forget about every single thing that stressed you out.

There would be times where you two would steal shy glances at each other whenever someone else was around, slightly brushing your hands with one another as you walked past him in the garage.

But there would also be times where no one was around and the two of you freely held one another, shy glances turned into make out sessions and the slight brush of your hands turned into firmly holding one another.

You also spent more time in the back area of the estate where most of the house workers would be.

You knew Haruchiyo hung around a lot there while waiting for you to go and thankfully all the other workers didn’t bat an eye at your sudden frequent appearance there.

Although, one thing that has gotten you on the edge was the now strained relationship with your father. You’d argued with your parents for days on end about the whole marriage idea and finding a suitor, you told them that it was simply too early to be getting married and that you wanted to focus on your career.

Of course, this was mostly true but you didn’t want to meet other suitors because you wanted to focus on your career but because you’ve already found someone who you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Your father didn’t take the argument too well which resulted in a strained relationship with him. You now felt like you were walking on eggshells when trying to converse with him.

You’ve also discussed countless times with Haruchiyo about the idea of introducing him as your boyfriend to your father, he wasn’t scared about the confrontation but he knew that it wouldn’t go well.

There was a small ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe that your father would actually be on board with your relationship. He wasn’t a cruel man, no, but he had his morals straight and did not hesitate to let anyone know.

But, this was merely just hope you were holding on to and you have yet to test it.

“You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” your boyfriend stole a glance at you from the rearview mirror, his aquamarine eyes twinkling in the dark vehicle.

You were on your way to the venue of the annual winter company party for all employers that worked under your family and the company, and that included Haruchiyo. “I could say the same about you.” you giggled. 

It was your first time seeing Haruchiyo sport a low bun but you weren’t complaining; he wore a 3-piece suit–provided by you–which he looked sexy in.

The way the vest hugged his thin waist did unexplainable things to you. Although, the highlight of it was you managed to convince him to leave the mask at home and when he had asked you ‘why’, you simply replied something along the lines of not being able to freely kiss him.

“I want you to walk in with me.” you said as Haruchiyo took the keys from the car and pocketed it, he looked back at you and smiled, nodding. His nerves were getting to him and he didn’t know why, it was just a party, that’s all.

It took all his will power to not wrap his arm around your waist to let all the other men in the room that you were his as you two walked inside.

As expected, it was grand.

Waiters were everywhere serving wine and fancy little appetizers that he probably couldn’t pronounce the name of; it was already filled with familiar faces dressed in fancy attires, many who stood around several cocktail tables and chatting with one another.

As if sensing Haruchiyo’s nervousness, you reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before dropping it, he wished you held it a little longer, he was already missing the warmth of your hand.

Your father spotted you and made his way towards the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you just held your chauffeur’s hand mere seconds ago. “Sanzu, so glad you could make it.” your father nodded in appreciation at the pink haired man, sternly smiling at him before dropping his gaze down to his uncovered lips.

Haruchiyo froze at this, he didn’t know what to do. The anxious feeling that he’s been pushing down now came surging up, spreading throughout his body, he felt so small and vulnerable, and he absolutely hated it.

You noticed your father’s gaze, annoyance rising as you mentally cursed to yourself. You shifted closer to your boyfriend, letting your arms touch, this made Haruchiyo a bit calmer and appreciated how you always looked out for him.

Before your father could say anything about Haruchiyo, you pulled him away, asking about tonight’s event. You quickly looked back at your boyfriend who was still standing there and mouthed an apologetic ‘I’m sorry’ as you led your father elsewhere.

Haruchiyo shook his head, indicating that it was okay, before pointing to the bar and heading for its direction. Maybe he’ll get a glass of water to clear his mind

With that, you and Haruchiyo barely saw each other as the night progressed. Apparently our father had invited some of the company’s business partners and introduced them to you, it was just never ending introductions all night and you wanted to be beside Haruchiyo.

You wanted to know how he was doing for the period of time you’d been gone from his side.

You finally got a breather from all the introductions and darted your eyes around the venue, there were a lot of people but you knew you could easily spot Haruchiyo by his pink hair, you craned your neck around to look out for his vibrant hair but you couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Looking for someone?” a voice asked behind you.

You let out a sigh and turned around, “Haru, I’ve been looking for you everywhe—” your sentence was cut short due to the fact that it was not Haruchiyo. “H-heizo… hey, um, nice to see you.” you gave him an uncomfortable smile and tried looking behind him for signs of your boyfriend.

The man in front of you began speaking about topics you couldn’t care less about. You only wanted Haruchiyo. You distractedly scanned your eyes around the venue once again, absentmindedly nodding at whatever he was saying before spotting a familiar head of pink hair, he was headed for the doors.

“H-hey, I’ll talk to you later. ‘Kay?” you gave Heizo a small wave and didn’t wait for his response before hastily making your way to Haruchiyo, who just now slipped past the entrance of the venue and was headed outside.

Little did you know, your hasty movements caught your father’s attention, you were headed outside which piqued his curiosity.

Haruchiyo was leaning against the side of the building, you spotted him as soon as you stepped outside, the cool winter air kissing your exposed skin which made you shiver a bit.

“Haru, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you took a couple of steps and stopped towards the older man, effectively trapping him against the wall. No matter how much Haruchiyo decided to hide his emotions, you knew his eyes never lied. There was something bothering him, the way his aquamarine gaze avoided yours was a give away.

You frowned at his behaviour. “Baby… talk to me.” you tilted your head and cupped his cheeks, “Did anyone say anything to you?” he brought his warm hands over yours and leaned into your touch, eyes closing as it calmed his mind.

“I just— after your father gave me that stare earlier, I couldn’t help but become more insecure and I just felt like all eyes were on me whenever I walked around there.” Haruchiyo sighed and finally met your worried gaze. Your eyes softened at his expression and you gently ran both your thumbs on either corner of his lips.

Your thumbs traced the raised skin on his cheeks, softly stroking them as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, “I’m so sorry.” you whispered and leaned closer to him, giving his scars a kiss.

Your lips lingered on either side of his mouth, handling them with utmost care. Haruchiyo’s chest warmed at your action and leaned his forehead against yours, once again closing his eyes at the intimacy.

“I love you so much. I don’t think I can ever let you go.” he whispered.

You were about to close the gap between your lips until you felt a harsh grip on your wrist, suddenly pulling you away from Haruchiyo. His eyes shot open as he was met with emptiness in front of him, he looked around to see you standing next to your father, his hand firmly on your wrist. Your expression mirrored his, shocked, scared, and confused.

“Stay the fuck away from my daughter!” your father pointed a harsh finger at him, his face contorted with pure anger.

Haruchiyo began to explain the whole situation while taking a step towards you but your father had cut him off and stood in between, effectively blocking his view of you.

Your desperate attempts to calm your father down and telling him not to make such a scene were ignored, you balled your fists as you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

Your boyfriend noticed your distress and wanted to comfort you badly but like everything else in his life, all he could do was stand there and watch you cry.

“I’m taking you home.” your father glanced back at you before pulling you in the other direction, stumbling upon your heels as tears clouded your eyes. Haruchiyo stood there frozen on his spot, fists clenched by his side as the darkness engulfed your figure.

Just like that, he knew his prayers weren’t answered. He knew that the countless nights he prayed under the stars to have you did absolutely nothing.

Yes, the universe was cruel but why didn’t the stars align for you two? Why did he always have to lose something precious? He was already empty from the beginning but losing you gave him a whole new meaning of emptiness.

That night, you layed in bed staring up at the ceiling, tears still rolling down from your eyes. You haven’t stopped crying since the incident and it also didn’t help that your father argued with you all the way back home, he was the one who drove your car back, not Haruchiyo.

You told him about your relationship with Haruchiyo, to which he simply replied along the lines of ending your relationship with him.

You replayed every single harsh word that came out of his mouth about your boyfriend, it broke your heart thinking that there are some people out there that view Haruchiyo in this light. He didn’t deserve that.

“Out of all the guys you could’ve picked, you picked him?! Some scum from the streets? He has a criminal record for fucksakes! I’ve already been lenient enough when you asked me to hire him as your personal driver but this… I can’t let this slide. Having a relationship with your chauffeur? Absolutely outrageous!”

He told you that you were also getting a new chauffeur and forced you to delete and block all your connections with Haruchiyo which broke your heart even more. There was definitely no getting back from this and you feared you would never see him again. You just wanted to see him.

A small whimper escaped your lips, you felt helpless, you wanted to scream out your lungs but didn’t have the energy to, you just wanted Haruchiyo. Your chest ached and your throat tightened as you cried into your pillow, hands tightly gripping the sheets that engulfed your numb body.

You heard the familiar rev of Haruchiyo’s motorcycle, it was faint but distinguishable. He was here? You figured he was there to grab his motorcycle and head home for the night, your heart raced at the thought of him being so close yet so far. You were about to get off your bed and head for the garage until the roaring of his motorcycle faded into the darkness, he was gone.

If you want to see him, you can. A voice replied in your head.

You blinked your tears away and shot up from your bed, your mind running through the endless possibilities of seeing him. You didn’t know where he lived but you could easily obtain that information from the electronic copy of his job application that he had previously sent. 

Quickly reaching for your phone, you tapped through the ‘files’ application and pulled up the file you needed.

Bingo.

You entered the taxi you called for and never looked back, not fearing for anyone catching you leaving at this hour as your father had returned to the party and most staff were there as well. You didn’t care if you were in your pyjamas, all you cared about was that you were going to see Haruchiyo.

After paying and bidding the taxi driver a thank you, you made your way to his house, double checking the number stated on your phone with the one plastered on the door. You knew he was home because his motorcycle was parked near the front door.

You lifted a hand and gently knocked on it.

Footsteps on the other side of the door could be heard walking closer until it came to a halt. It took a few seconds before you could hear the fumbling of locks, like they already knew who was on the other side of the door.

The door burst open and revealed a dishevelled Haruchiyo, his rosy pink hair was a mess and his eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying.

You caught a distinct whiff of something else that made you scrunch your nose but you weren’t that naïve to not know what it was. There was definitely another reason why his eyes were red.

Haruchiyo laughed to himself, resting a palm over his eyes like he was going crazy, “Fuuuck, I’m so high that I’m even hallucinating right now.” he chuckled to himself, slurring the words that came out of his mouth.

You noticed the rolled joint rested between his fingers of his other hand and let out a heavy sigh.

You remember him telling you that he would occasionally smoke weed to ease the pain he felt but he reassured you that he hasn’t done it for a few months now. It pained you that you were partially the reason for his behaviour.

You wasted no time to wrap your arms around him, tightly hugging him and never wanting to let go. You reassured him that it was in fact not a hallucination and that you were really there with him. Haruchiyo did not believe you until he ran a slender hand down your back, stroking your hair.

The older man began sobbing uncontrollably that you were actually right in front of him and mumbled sentences along the lines of how he missed you so bad and how empty he felt for the past few hours.

You made your way inside and shut the door behind you, still not letting go of him, “It’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll never leave you.” you sniffled as you buried your face in his chest.

Haruchiyo pulled you both into the couch, his hands firmly situated on your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. He had a lot of questions running through his mind but he was too high to even think about it, all that mattered was that you were there with him.

You circled your arms around his neck and shifted on his lap, trying to find a comfortable spot, “Fuck, don’t do that princess.” Haruchiyo groaned, stilling your hips as he threw his head against the backrest and took a long drag before puffing his lungs out, thick smoke dancing past his lips and evaporating into thin air.

You keenly looked at him, eyes focused on the joint between his fingers.

He noticed your gaze and jutted the joint towards you, a brow lifting in suggestion. You met his clouded stare, eyes droopy and red from intoxication before dropping back down to the joint which emitted wisps of white smoke.

Without any hesitation, you took it from his hand and rested it between your puckered lips, taking a long drag like what Haruchiyo did. It immediately burned your lungs and throat, you couldn’t properly puff out the smoke as you coughed uncontrollably at the foreign sensation in your chest and tears began forming in your eyes.

Haruchiyo stroked your back and slightly chuckled at you, “You took it like a champ.”

He grabbed your hand that held the joint and pulled it closer to his lips before slowly inhaling, his pretty eyes never leaving yours the whole time he did this, and before he exhaled, he placed a hand on your nape and pulled you closer to him. Haruchiyo puffed out smoke past your lips as he gave you open mouthed kisses.

Everything felt so good and light. Your senses were becoming clouded as Haruchiyo did more rounds of blowing smoke into your mouth, you felt light headed, your sense of touch was heightened and you felt horny.

You suddenly felt everything. With the way his warm hands enveloped your neck to the way his lap felt against your thighs.

With intoxication clouding your senses, you didn’t hesitate to swing your leg over his lap and straddle Haruchiyo, to which he merely responded by holding either side of your hips, smirking.

“Haruuu, I want you so bad.” you leaned into his neck, sucking a spot which made him groan.

You started grinding your hips against his as you felt something tingling down there, begging for some kind of friction. Haruchiyo guided your hips against his hard clothed cock, shamelessly moaning at the sensation. Everything felt so good that even as little as grinding against you could get him over the edge.

“Fuck, princess, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…” he whined as he rested the back of his head against the backrest of the couch, moving your hips back and forth.

You needed more.

You wanted to be closer to Haruchiyo and without thinking, your hands trailed down his chest and into his joggers but before your hands could venture any further, Haruchiyo caught your wrist, “I want to taste you.” he whispered, and kissed your hand.

The two of you messily made your way to his bedroom, lips moulding together and hands tangled with one another.

Haruchiyo softly pushed you onto the soft bed, you made yourself comfortable by scooting up to his pillows before laying down, the room was spinning and your head was pounding but you didn’t care.

He followed suit, crawling up to you and began marking your neck, his large hands making its way inside your pyjama top and grabbing your breast.

“No bra? How naughty…” he chuckled against your neck.

You could only whine at this as he roughly massaged your breasts. You didn’t even know your top was gone until Haruchiyo wasted no time sucking, licking and biting them, giving it all the attention it deserved.

“Haru, please. I just want you.” you grew impatient at his ministrations, he thought you were cute because you clearly had no idea what he was about to give you.

“And you’ll have me… you’ll just have to be a good girl for me first. I want to taste all of you.” he trailed a hand down past your stomach and into your pants. You immediately threw your head back as he circled your clit through your panties, groaning out his name as you tried to close your legs.

“Hmm, so responsive.” Haruchiyo smirked at the state of you as he pried your legs apart.

He wasted no time taking the last pieces of clothing off your body, pulling both your pants and panties down your legs.

Warmth spread up to your cheeks as you were exposed to Haruchiyo, it was your first time doing this and no one had ever seen the entirety of your body.

You closed your legs, suddenly feeling shy as he didn’t bother to hide the stare directed at your wet pussy, “Don’t hide from me now… you wanted this, remember?” he grabbed both of your knees and parted your legs, trailing soft kisses on your inner thigh.

Haruchiyo breathed in your scent as he got closer to your sex. He took experimental licks at your folds and observing your reaction to them, your face was contorted in pleasure and your head was thrown back against his pillows. He took this as an indication to keep going, and he did.

He pressed his mouth against your clit and started sucking like his life depended on it, this earned a loud moan of his name from you which urged Haruchiyo even more.

He slipped his tongue past your folds and explored the warmness of you, you tasted so fucking sweet and he couldn’t get enough of you. He alternated between giving your clit stiff licks and sucking on it which made your hands fly down to his rosy pink tresses and before you knew it, Haruchiyo had brought you to your first orgasm.

You felt a sharp sensation run up your spine as Haruchiyo brought you over the edge, lapping up every single bit of your cum, your vision became white for a second and you swore you saw stars.

Your chest heaved at the intense sensation but you couldn’t help look down at him, he had your cum running down his chin, messy rosy pink hair and heavy lidded eyes.

“I’m not done with you yet, I’m just getting started.”

By the time he brought you to your second orgasm using his fingers, you were already sensitive but you knew what was coming next and you’ve been anticipating this ever since you started grinding on his clothed cock.

Although, you were a bit afraid of his length even though you haven’t seen it, but you’ve surely felt it. Two slender fingers were already too much for you, so you didn’t know what to expect of his cock.

Haruchiyo finally took off all articles of clothing that hid his pretty body, you gaped at his torso, he was definitely on the skinnier side but was well-built. He reached for his joggers and pulled them down along with his brief, he sighed at the sensation that his cock wasn’t being restrained by anything.

Fuck, he was long.

You stared at his stiff cock in all its glory, it wasn’t that thick but his length definitely made up for it. The tip had a pretty shade of pink, just like his lips and was already leaking of precum.

He gave his cock a few strokes before grabbing a condom from the night stand and rolling it down his length, he got on the bed and crawled closer to you.

Haruchiyo sat on his knees and rubbed the tip of his dick at your entrance which earned a whine from you, he got on top of you and started kissing your lips, distracting as he was slowly slipping his dick inside.

“Haru, fuck!” your hands flew to his biceps, gripping them as he pushed further inside, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you anywhere?” his head shot up, concern filling his eyes as he met your glassy gaze, you hastily shook your head and urged him to continue.

With that, Haruchiyo continued pushing in, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight for me…” he buried his face against your neck, goosebumps arising from his hot pants. You felt an uncomfortable stretch as he continued to push his cock inside your tight heat but at the same time, it felt good. So good.

As he bottomed out, Haruchiyo had to take a breather, you were hugging him so tight that if he moved even the slightest bit, he would come right then and there. He pulled out just a bit and squeezed the base of his cock until the urge to cum just dissipated.

“Please move.” you whined and brought a hand up to his cheek, stroking his scar.

Haruchiyo obeyed and didn’t waste any time before slowly moving in and out of you which caused you to moan loudly and throw your head back against his pillows, your exposed neck gave him the liberty to paint it with even more bruises.

He started to pick up his pace, his balls slapping against your ass and loud squelching sounds could be heard throughout the room.

“F-fuck! You’re so good for me, huh? No wonder why you chose me over them—ngh! You like a man who can give you good dick?” he panted against your ears, sucking and nibbling on them as his thrusts didn’t falter.

You could only moan at his words and claw his back due to the unfamiliar sensation engulfing your body but Haruchiyo wasn’t satisfied with this. “Answer me.” he whispered before biting the side of your neck, harshly.

“A-ah, fuck! Yes! That’s you Haru.” you yelped.

You didn’t even know your eyes were closed until he pulled out of you and was about to whine in protest at his sudden movement, “Wha—” “Face down, ass up for me, pretty girl.” You sat up and turned to face the mattress, bringing your torso down and leaving your ass exposed.

Haruchiyo briefly massaged your ass before pushing back into your cunt and bottoming out all in one go. You balled your fists against his sheets and let out a loud moan, this position was even better, you never knew he could reach inside this deep.

He started moving again, hips loudly slapping against your ass as he matched the thrusts he had previously given you, your moans were definitely a pitch higher and all kinds of sounds spilled from your lips uncontrollably.

You were suddenly roughly grabbed by the back of your neck, resulting in your back pressing against Haruchiyo’s broad chest. Both his palms massaged each of your breasts as he fucked up into you, causing you to throw your head back at his shoulder.

“You’re always so good for me… so pretty.” he whispered, his voice strained indicating that he was close.

“Mm! Only for you Haru—ah!” you reached down and started rubbing fast and tight circles on your clit, wanting to cum with him.

The coil inside you snapped and you started cumming around his cock, fisting your hands against his mattress as the familiar intense sensation runs up your spine. You loudly moaned his name, back arching as the pleasure became too intense.

At the same time, Haruchiyo roughly pushed your face back into the mattress, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he neared his climax.

All it took for him was your clenching walls and he threw his head back in pure bliss, mouth parted as loud shameless moans slipped out, grinding his hips against your ass which pushed his dick even further inside as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

A chain of profanities rolled from his tongue as he shallowly thrusted inside you, milking every last drop of his cum.

The two of you were both spent and sweaty, and how Haruchiyo managed to clean you up was beyond your comprehension. The last thing you saw were his aquamarine eyes and long lashes holding your gaze before sleep took over you, you swore you heard him say ‘I love you’.

The morning came rolling around and your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was Haruchiyo’s peaceful state. He looked so pretty and effortlessly beautiful with the way his long lashes brushed against his cheeks.

You definitely had a keen eye for pretty things.

He looked soft, definitely a complete contrast from his persona last night.

You could get used to waking up to his pretty face every single morning because even though Haruchiyo didn't have anything materialistic to offer you, unlike everyone else, he only had one thing he could truly afford, the one you've been chasing your whole life.

Undivided attention.

Haruchiyo may have not noticed it but his love and attention may have been the most expensive gift you've ever received.

And you knew you’d fight for his love, no matter what it took because you were tired of hiding him from the world.

You wanted to scream your lungs out on a rooftop that you were in love with Haruchiyo Sanzu, the man who offered you nothing and everything at the same time.

wowie, thanks for making it to the very end!

© mitsuyeaah

[seuonji]

彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan

part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3

notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — jeonghan becomes fond of the daycare worker he met the other day, seems like fate is on his side through this journey, or is it?

genre ๑ fluff, new interest, mutual pining.

warnings ๑ profanity

word count ๑ 1.4k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

“we’re homee!” jeonghan walked into his boss’s office with yuna in his arms. he had yuna’s small sparkly pink bag slung around his shoulder and his hair was messy and hair strands covered the front of his eyes, courtesy of yuna playing with it. he honestly looked like a struggling single mother and seungcheol was humoured by the view.

“yuna!” seungcheol squatted and opened his arms. jeonghan quickly placed yuna down as she started to move around in excitement from seeing her father. she ran towards him with the same opens arms and wrapped them around him.

“thank you jeonghan, so sorry to trouble you with this, i can’t thank you enough,” seungcheol looked up to his secretary with doe eyes.

“it’s no worries, it’s my job to follow your orders, don’t be afraid to ask me to go again,” the secretary replied as he flopped onto the couch seungcheol had in his office.

seungcheol perked his head up, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. seungcheol has known jeonghan for years and they’re actually pretty close so he knows what tasks jeonghan likes and dislikes. one of those tasks jeonghan disliked was undertaking tasks irrelevant to the main job. seungcheol knew his secretary found those tasks unreasonable. one time jeonghan was told to make orders for a party that didn’t have anything to do anything with the company and he very much remained sour for the rest of the week due to the hassle it was.

for someone with a mere position of being a secretary, he sure had string opinions. lucky for him, people seemed to let it slide.

jeonghan of course, always complied, it’s his job to follow what seungcheol says but he never hides his disdain for activities he isn’t fond of.

“really?” seungcheol titlted his head. seungcheol was sure this would be one of the tasks jeonghan was to dislike but perhaps since it was for someone he cared about, yuna, it was okay.

“…it’s my job?” the secretary ogled his eyes to his boss, confused on why he’d say that.

seungcheol bit his lip and his eyebrows pinched together hesitating to ask more. it’s not like it was a big deal but there must’ve been something interesting on why he’d be okay with going back but maybe he was just overthinking it.

“you’re right,” seungcheol laughed before dismissing his secretary, “well, i’ll be leaving soon. again, thank you for earlier. drive safe on the road alright?”

jeonghan nodded in response and said goodbye as he left the room.

seungcheol organised his desk and collected his things getting ready to leave. “how was daycare yuna,” he smiled making conversation with his daughter.

“fun!” she answered excitedly.

“what did you do?”

“i played with yn also they read a book to me today!”

“you really like yn huh?” seungcheol chuckled walking towards the exit as yuna followed.

“of course!”

he smiled at the pure child joy portrayed in front of his eyes. he’s happy he found a great daycare for his daughter to be at.

“that’s weird, even uncle jeonghan asked me if i like yn, who wouldn’t like yn?” yuna asked genuinely.

seungcheol stopped his steps in the middle of the hallway and his head shifted to yuna.

“what do you mean?”

“uncle jeonghan asked me if i liked yn, of course i do! how can you not like yn, you like yn too right dad?“ yuna of course asked in the platonic sense but that last part caught him off guard—

“when did jeonghan ask that?”

“just after we left earlier!”

seungcheol looked up to the ceiling and thought for a second.

what were the chances that his secretary is interested in you?

it was low honestly, however it was high at the same time! you two have known each other for what, 5 minutes? then again, jeonghan showed interest in returning to the daycare. moreover, he acknowledged someone working there, even asking a 6 year old about them? that meant something, seungcheol would know.

seungcheol continued walking and laughed under his breath. this is fun.

+

ah. how did it turn out like this.

you stood at the reception table almost frozen by the sight.

“yn!” yuna skipped into the building.

“yuna! hello, nice to see you today,” you greeted while taking her bag off her.

you glanced at the man who escorted her and again, his pretty face raised your heartbeat.

you inhaled deeply calming yourself down, “yuna, you can go inside first, i need to take care of something here,” you instructed as you opened the fence door to let her in.

“bye yuna,” jeonghan waved.

she went in and now it was just the two of you.

“hi mr.yoon,�� you casually spoke and walked back to the computer at reception to mark yuna present.

“hi yn and please, just call me jeonghan,” he insisted with a kind smile.

you grinned and nodded, “mr.choi’s busy again?”

“yea, it was really sudden,” jeonghan squinted his eyes recalling how he ended up here. he wasn’t expecting to pay a visit today either.

—

a bit earlier…

“hey jeonghan, i’m so sorry but i’m going to need you to bring yuna to daycare today,” seungcheol informed as his eyes didn’t leave the papers on his desk.

“what?” jeonghan furrowed just eyebrows.

“schedules been busy so i can’t go. yuna’s bag is already prepared i just need you to bring her to daycare and make sure you walk inside with her. is that alright?”

jeonghan cleared his throat, “uhm, yea of course.”

—

jeonghan didn’t even organise his boss’s schedule to make him that busy. he was actually thinking about starting his plans next week, but somehow, things were in his favour.

“well thanks for bringing yuna, who’s going to pick her up later?”

jeonghan pursed his lips, could be him if he really tried, “i’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“oh alright, i’ll just call mr.choi then—“

“better you just have my number,” he spoke quickly which cut you off.

he struggled to get something from his pocket, “seungcheol been busy so best you contact his trusty secretary first,” he pulled out a mildly crumpled business card in his hand, giving it to you.

he’d been pinching it throughout the ride to the daycare wondering if he should give it to you or not. but he gave it cause what was the big deal? it was for the convenience. it’s not like it meant anything, it’s a business card, it’s for business matters.

“just call the number on the card or email me! but i don’t think i’ll see it until like, next month,” he said as he pointed to parts of the card.

you laughed at his wit and took the card in your hands, “thanks, it’ll definitely be a phone call that’s for sure.”

he laughed at the way you returned his energy, “hope to see you later yn.”

your heart dropped at his words but you didn’t take it to heart, “hope to see you as well?” you said with hesitance.

you two parted ways and he left the daycare with the same smile he had yesterday, only it was wider. there was really something about you that made him want to just grab a chair and talk to you for hours.

meanwhile, you were seated on the old, half-broken reception chair with jeonghan’s business card in your hands. you held back your excitement, gosh you had the number of the boy that kept you up last night.

but reality washed over you too quickly. you sighed and placed the card down, it was only a business number.

but hell did it feel like a step forward.

+

you glanced at the clock. it was almost 6, almost time for yuna to leave.

all of your co workers had clocked out and all the kids but yuna went home.

you were currently reading her a story book but since she skipped nap time, she was starting to doze off. you softly pinched her cheek yet she was still in the same state.

soon 6:30 came, by now seungcheol would’ve sent a message apologising and saying he was on his way, but there was nothing.

was it a sign to call him?

you scratched your head and looked at yuna. she was laying on one of the mattresses to catch up on some energy.

you slowly got up and went to find the business card.

once you found it, you quickly typed it into your phone immediately calling it. as soon as it connected, you placed your phone to your ear,

“beep, the number you have dialled can’t be reached. please try again.”

you furrowed your eyebrows but tried again. this time you even placed his name and added it to your contacts.

“beep, the number you have dialled can’t be reached. please try again.”

well shit.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part two: the caretaker and the sister   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

iv. the caretaker

“gonna be real, i’m sure you know why we’re looking at you funny.” jungkook was blunt, but you had to give him kudos for it.

  “oh, why is that?” you replied dryly, 

  the way you had narrowed it down for your parents seemed more simple in your head when you rehearsed it a dozen times over before having each individual sit-down. the property was just going to rot and go to waste. it’s what grandpa would have wanted. so many sweet words intertwined with one another, but not once did you mention your perpetual unhappiness.

  explaining it to two people who were essentially strangers should have been easier, but something told you that the look jungkook was giving you hinted that he knew there was more of a story than that. on the other hand, namjoon, who was still confused by the entire conversation somehow, either didn’t care to ask or knew it wasn’t his place to press. 

  by his sympathetic glance towards your dirty duffel bag, it seemed to be the latter. he slowly came to the ground from his horse and gave you one of those sweet smiles that only a gentleman from the countryside could give. it was the same one your grandpa and jungkook had.

  namjoon gestured down the road. “need a ride into town?”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when namjoon said “ride” and then your eyes fell on the beautiful stallion that he had a gentle hand on. oh. somehow, the idea made you stomach drop and you were shocked to find that.

  “what’s wrong? we used to ride all the time when we were kids,” jungkook said, having read the expression formed on your face.

  one of the thing that your mom warned you about was that no one was going to take you seriously in the valley. your grandfather was a well seasoned farmer, as the property had been passed down for generations until your mom declined the responsiblity. and, of course, you grew up in the city and you definitely looked like it. there wasn’t another reason to add onto this obstacle.

  you shook your head. “i, uh, injured my ankle a week back. pilates.” a hollow chuckle that jungkook and namjoon overlooked and nodded in understanding. “so, it’s best if i don’t ride into town.”

  you weren’t sure why the idea of getting on a horse made you nervous. it had been many years, but there was a time where you rode more often than you walked on your own two legs. pushing the feelings away to deal with another time, there was a bigger issue at hand. the movers were likely going to make it to the farm before you were at this rate.

  “oh, no worries! stay put, we’ll come back for ya,” jungkook said, “shouldn’t take long. you’ll be okay waiting here?”

  you smiled and nodded, giving the two kind semi-strangers a thank you and off they went. 

  it was a relief that small-town hospitality was a thing. you hoped that would be the case, as you remembered amber valley to be a tight-knit community, as everyone knew each other. this left you to wonder who else you would be encountering in your new life here from your past. there weren’t too many kids your age growing up and you assumed that most of them would want to leave the valley like you did, given the lack of opportunitites. you wondered why jungkook and namjoon were still around.

  although you were just standing on the side of the road alone, you didn’t feel unsafe at all. after all, your grandpa would allow you and jungkook to roam around the town until late at night with no supervision when you were kids. there was not a single vehicle that passed by as you waited. if you hadn’t gotten namjoon’s attention as he was riding by, you were going to end up hitchhiking and probably in the wrong direction, too.

soon enough, you saw a car in the distance and you breathed a sigh of relief. a baby blue mustang, its age was apparent by the blaring roar of its engine and clank of its metal. coming to a stop, the windows rolled down and you gave a small wave.

  while jungkook sat at the passenger’s seat, there was a different face behind the steering wheel. another person around your age, you couldn’t recognize him by face, even calculating his smile that reached his eyes. however, when he opened his mouth, the man’s voice hit you like a truck.

  “hi, you’re - “

  “park jimin?” you gaped.

  the park family ran a generation spanning fishing business in amber valley and your mom was once high school sweethearts with jimin’s father. that’s why his mom was particularly snippy with you as a child and didn’t want you hanging around her son, feeding him ideas of how evil you apparently were - or so, that’s what the gossip from jungkook’s mom was. the three of you were baking cookies one day and jungkook wanted to drop some off to jimin. you went along and jimin called you a witch, so when you cried the entire walk back to jungkook’s house, his mom told you not to worry and that his mom was just a bit petty. ever since that day on until your last summer in amber valley, you declared jimin an enemy after realizing why he had done the same to you.

  jimin peered over, analyzing your face for a few seconds. beside him, you could see jungkook noticeably stifling a laugh. when the realization clocked in, jimin mirrored your slightly dropped jaw.

  he couldn’t help but laugh. “oh shit, you’re bunny.” there was no sense of resentment or snarkiness, which was surprising with your history - but, then again, this wide-eyed individual with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen was nothing like your childhood bully.

  “i remember one time you ripped all of my silly bandz. you were evil!” jimin exclaimed.

  once you got into the backseat, duffle bag nestled beside you, the atmosphere was actually quite lively. a beyonce album from the 2000s was shuffled in the background and although the road was bumpy and old, no one seemed to mind. you raised your eyebrows, trying to recall jimin’s anecdone.

  jungkook added in, “yup, you guys hated each other. i had to play peacemaker all the time.”

  “hmm…” you trailed off. “oh yeah. i think you had to physically hold me back from jimin a few times.”

  apparently, from “forcing” jungkook to eat mud and terrorizing jimin’s dinosaur silly bandz collection, you were a menace. thankfully, it was all fun and games, as the three of you exchanged giggles about being kids in the valley. slowly, piece by piece, you were grasping some memories that you didn’t even know were tucked away at the back of your mind.

  jungkook looked at you from the mirror. “you doing okay? we’ll be reaching the farm in a few minutes.”

  “where did namjoon run off to again? i was supposed to lend him something,” jimin said.

  “something about helping his dad with something, i dunno,” jungkook shrugged at jimin and then turned back to you. “he says good luck with moving in, by the way, and that he would have helped out if he could.”

  jimin sighed. “he’s always at the beck and call of mayor kim. poor guy just wants to get out of here.” you assumed he was talking about amber valley as a whole. 

  this made you a bit curious, thinking again why these young adults were sticking around the small town. the average demographic for the town was definitely on the older side, from what you saw at your grandfather’s funeral service. you ended up asking what both of them did and while you noticed jungkook go quiet, jimin piped in.

  “just helping my parents out with the family business, probably become the owner when they retire. i actually don’t mind it here and i could see myself staying here - “

  “ - that’s because you’ve never left your entire life,” jungkook interjected.

  “and it’s great! except the dating pool is a bit shallow. gotta figure that out.” jimin’s pout made you laugh and made it feel even more bewildering that this was the little brat from your childhood.

  eventually, you all drove right past the path leading into the centre of town and made a sharp turn towards another dirt path that had a singular route to your grandfather’s property. the lively air of the conversation distracted you from the confrontation due, despite your hasty acceptance of your new role. the last two weeks had been a whirlwind and you grew anxious of what it would feel like to see your grandfather’s greatest pride and joy once again.

  it’d been almost half a year since your grandfather’s passing and you prepared yourself for extensive work on the farm. there were also floating questions about the property that you weren’t sure who to ask. the property was in your name and the transition to move happened in the blink of an eye. but, what about grandpa’s other possessions? the animals? the furniture?

  the moving truck was already parked out front and checking the time on your phone, you were relieved to see that you weren’t too late past the agreed arrival time. the three of you exited the car and you gave the two men a warm smile.

  “hey, thanks for the ride. i really appreciate it, i would’ve been toast without your guys’ help.”

  “it’s no problem at all! i think it’s really cool you’re taking over the farm, keeping it in the family,” jimin replied. “plus, we’ll probably be business partners. don’t worry, my days of being a pain in the ass are over.”

  the two of you laughed and exchanged a playful handshake. meanwhile, jungkook took out your duffel bag from the trunk for you and walked over. you thanked him and took the bag from him, quietly impressed by his quick chivalry. 

  jungkook smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile just a little bit wider. “do you need help with anything, by the way?“

  “oh, no! trust me, you have definitely helped enough.” you waved him off. the neighbourly spirit was definitely strong in amber valley, but you already felt bad about having them fetch a whole car because the idea of you riding a horse was going to give you  a heart attack.

  “you sure?” jimin added.

  you said, “absolutely. the movers got most of it anyway.” you were slightly worried about exploring the property and looking at the state of it, but that was just the first task you had to take care of in your new role.

  “alright, cool. well, i hope to see you around! jungkook, you’re good?” jimin turned to the other male, who nodded. “nice. see ya then!” and just like that, jimin was off. a ray of sunshine, but seemed like the type who was always on his feet.

  you were confused why jungkook didn’t leave with jimin and then you remember he lived about a five minute walk away. that reminded you why the two of you seemed to never leave each other’s sides.

  “okay. you probably remember where everything is, but the chickens were fed this morning and - “ jungkook started and you were confused. what was he talking about?

  “wait, has someone been taking care of the farm?”

  you finally got a good look around the front and you realized everything looked. . .normal. it was exactly like how it looked in your memories, when your grandfather took meticulous care of the property. the grass was cut and emerald green, not missing a day of water. 

  your grandfather’s farmhouse had never gotten an renovation since being built and while it certainly showed, the age of the house accentuated a certain charm that only old houses gained over the years. the wrap-around porch was still in tact, despite its chipped paint. its unique bright red roof faded into a dirty maroon, losing remnants of what was your mother’s favourite colour, which your grandfather had customized the roof to match. the shrubbery around the house was overgrown, but didn’t look like it had been so for nearly half a year, indicating there was maintenance at some point between now and then.

  jungkook took a second to speak. “well, your mom was paying for basic maintenance every now and then. for the grass and stuff.”

  you didn’t know that, but you weren’t too surprised. after your grandpa died, there was really no talk about where his property was going to go. you didn’t know that he had left it to you, but you later found out that your mother was actually aware of this, but assumed you would be disinterested and didn’t say anything to you. 

  “i guess she thought i wouldn’t care about the property and took matters into her own hands,” you shrugged. “but, sorry, you said something about the chickens? and what about the fields?”

  he put his hands into his pockets. “well, you know before your grandpa passed i was helping him around the farm and stuff. i just. . .kind of continued even after.”

  you responded, “you’ve been taking care of the farm?”

  you weren’t sure how to feel. you were certainly shocked, having not understood how truly deep jungkook’s relationship with your grandfather ran. for him to come out to the farm and perform labour on his own accord, as well as the way jungkook spoke about him, there was a true sense of care involved. 

  “well, yeah. there was no one else to do it. your grandpa worked all his life to grow this place and i didn’t want any of it to go to waste. i wasn’t sure what the situation was with the property until you came today, but the animals had nowhere to go!” jungkook seemed genuinely exasperated by the situation. “don’t worry, it’s not like i’ve been profiting off of his animals. i’ve used everything just to back into taking care of the farm and it’s been just enough, since there aren’t any crops.”

  “jungkook. . .” you were left speechless. you couldn’t believe how golden of a heart this man really had to be keeping your grandfather’s memory alive, all behind the scenes and for no recognition.

  he just chuckled. “look, i’m not just glad someone is here now to get things up and running again, but the fact that it’s you. you’re the perfect person for this.”

  “am i?” you asked, looking down at the ground. you were about to fill some really big shoes and you knew it. those words of affirmation meant the world to you, suddenly feeling immense pressure on your back once actually seeing the farm in person for the first time in years.

  jungkook said, without missing a beat, “of course. you’re here because you care about your grandpa’s legacy and all the work he’s done, i can see it in your eyes. you’ll be a natural, don’t worry - i’m sure all the little things are gonna come back to you!” he was so confident and you couldn’t believe it. you could only try to hope he was right.

  “hey. . .” you began and couldn’t help but approach him. he seemed to share the same idea as you and opened his arms at the same time you did, enveloping you in a hug. neither one of you knew that the other had tears forming. “thank you, jungkook.”

  “of course. maybe it’s actually best that i show you where everything is?”

  you agreed without hesitation. after making sure that the movers didn’t need anything from you, the two of you left to embark on a quick tour of the property and its different buildings. when you were little, everything on the farm seemed so big and far and the entire world seemed to be unimaginatively endless. now, as an adult, things seemed just as daunting with the new chapter in your life, despite things not looking as big and far. 

  after an hour or so, jungkook said his goodbye and the movers had long finished their job. now, with your grandfather’s farmhouse living room filled to the brim with cardboard boxes and wrapped up furniture, you knew there was a lot ahead of you. you made a cup of tea and before getting to anything, found yourself outside and sitting criss-cross on the steps to the front door, wondering what was to come next. 

  v. the sister

there was just one grocery store in town, about half a kilometre of a walk and wasn’t going to pose any trouble for your vehicle-less self. this was your first time going into town since moving in, having been cooped up and living off of ramen noodles since you lacked the energy to go grocery shopping. friday night, after finishing work for the day and unpacking the last of your boxes, you decided to put on your big girl pants and run some errands.

  the first few days on the farm were exhausting, to say the least. thankfully, because of jungkook’s help and your mother’s contributions to the property, it was a lot less work than you remembered. you performed many of the tasks naturally, having spent summers doing the same thing over and over again. this didn’t mean you weren’t tiring come the weekend and you just wanted your trip to be a quick in and out.

  with an hour to closing, the store was basically empty and this gave you a sense of relief. you walked in, wearing stained sweatpants that were far older than you were willing to admit and your hair held up into a messy updo by a claw clip. 

  after about ten minutes, you were in the cereal aisle and deciding on if you wanted to pick out the one with the best cartoon on the cover or the one with the best nutritional value. this is when you felt something tugging on your pant leg.

  “oh..? oh!”

  you jumped slightly when you saw it was a beagle with the cutest eyes you’d ever seen. noticing the dog lacked a leash or collar or any kind, you quickly put the cereal you had been inspecting back on the shelf and crouched down.

  you whispered, “who do we have here?” your own eyes softened, as you crouched down to pet the tiny animal. 

  from behind you, you hear the sound of spongy footsteps - almost like a squeak with each step. turning around, you were met with a little girl and realized the squeakiness was coming from her hot pink light up sneakers, the kind that only ever made noise on tiled flooring. with a leash that matched the colour of her shoes perfectly in hand, her distress visibly eased upon laying eyes on you and the dog.

  “oh, peanut! oppa is gonna be so mad at me,” she gasped, immediately enveloping the puppy into her arms and re-attached the leash. looking at her, she couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

  still crouched on the ground and meeting her at eye-level, you asked, “are you okay?”

  “sorry, yeah! it just looked like she needed a second, so i took it off.” her frown, despite how distraught she was, was adorable. “thank you, miss!”

  so much for the in and out. you didn’t mind, though, as peanut approached you again and jumped up, narrowly missing your face with an excitable lick. you giggled in a way you hadn’t in a while, petting the puppy. 

  soon enough, another round of frantic footsteps followed. you looked up and weren’t surprised to see a familiar face.

  “jiwon, how many times have i told you to keep peanut leashed when we’re inside the store?”

  honestly, it was to your luck that you ran into jungkook here. after he left you at the farm on your first day, you realized you didn’t get his contact information. you were definitely considering it as he gave you a quick tour of where everything you needed was, but the idea of asking a man for his number for any given reason made your stomach jump. thankfully you didn’t need immediate assistance, save for the various things that were just broken around the property, but it would have been useful.

  clad in a graphic muscle shirt depicting a band you didn’t recognize, you couldn’t help but admire the way his tattoos were exposed and adorned his arms. you had to snap out of it. he finally made eye contact you and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

  “y/n. how’s your first week gone?”

“oppa, why are you making your voice sound like that - “

  jungkook cleared his throat. “shut it, jiwon.” you thought you saw his ears turned pink, but he adjusted the baseball cap on his head and his hair fell down to cover them.

  you looked between the two of them, confused. who was this little girl? putting the thought at the back of your mind, you opened your mouth to answer his question when two other figures began to approach.

  “hey! there you guys are - we got the cake.”

  you’d never seen so many people wear cowboy hats in one place than amber valley and this individual was no exception. he was easily one of the most handsome men you had ever physically laid eyes on - what was with this town? and of course, blue jeans. the friend beside him was also incredibly good looking, but dressed more like your neighbour from your old apartment complex and stood out against the other people you’d seen in town. apple watch, expensive nike dunks and a hoodie from an instagram streetwear brand that recently blew up.

  “who’s this?” the first man asked and his gaze made you a little more frozen than you were willing to admit.

  jungkook replied, “this is y/n. she’s taking over the old farm, it was her grandpa’s.” 

  “oh, i’m sorry for your loss. welcome to amber valley, though. i’m taehyung,” he smiled and offered his hand, which you took. “i’m new, too. i moved here last year.”

  the other man also offered you his hand. “i’m yoongi. welcome to amber valley - good luck.”

  “i’m not new - wait what?” you looked at yoongi, confused. “what do you mean, good luck?”

  the other three began chuckling amongst themselves. yoongi only looked exasperated. you raised an eyebrow.

  jiwon cut in. “yoongi says he got tricked.”

  “tricked?”

  “tricked to come here,” taehyung said, in between his laughs. “he’s from the city, something about his realtor lying to him about what the town’s like before he moved here.”

  yoongi rolled his eyes. “it’s not a joke - i didn’t know i would be moving to the middle of nowhere!”

  you learned that yoongi was a computer programmer and lived at home, worked from home, and hated leaving his home. he stayed in amber valley because on the few occasions he was forced to go into the office, it was only a short drive to where his company’s headquarters were in the next town over. 

  “i mean, it’s definitely different from the city. . .” you tried to offer, but yoongi waved it off. his friends were just amused and you could see the tiniest smile at that, so you assumed he wasn’t totally unhappy.

  meanwhile, taehyung proudly declared that he - wait for it - chose to move to amber valley. he was a novelist and moving to the town inspired the setting for the newest manuscript he was working on.

  “i love it here, it’s really peaceful,” he said.

  the last to be introduced was jiwon, whose appearance baffled you more and more when you looked at her. it was because she looked just like jungkook. and she was calling him oppa. you put two and two eventually.

  “my annoying little sister.” jungkook reached over, but jiwon instantly slapped his hand away from her head, as if on instinct. 

  there wasn’t too much surprise at the sibling you’d never met before, just a little bewildering to think a whole new human was made while you were gone from amber valley. after all, jungkook’s parents were relatively young, both the same age your own parents, who had you at nineteen. this explained two main things in your childhood, the first being why it was a no-hesitation decision for your parents to send you away to your grandfather’s care over the summer. free childcare was incredibly unreliable in the city and it was just easier for them.

  and, of course, like most kids from the valley, your mom grew up alongside jungkook’s parents. for that, it was encouraged and even expected for the two of you to eventually become friends. there was also a high level of trust because of this. out late biking with jungkook? oh, you’re with jungkook, it should be fine. left unsupervised on the fields? it’s okay, you and jungkook would look after each other.

  “it’s nice to meet you all. it’s a little weird that you have a little sister this grown now - has it really been that long since i left?” you shook your head.

  jungkook only laughed. “longest nine years of my life since this brat was born.”

  “hey!”

  “your mom did always say she wanted a daughter,” you attempted to joke, but ceased when you saw the atmosphere explicitly shift. 

  taehyung and yoongi looked away, eyes darting anywhere but the current conversation. jiwon looked like she had just seen a ghost. on the other hand, jungkook’s expression went blank. what the hell did you do wrong?  

it was taehyung who broke the silence. “hey, jiwon. wanna go pick out a card for jin?” 

  jiwon nodded enthusiastically - a little too enthusiastic. she happily skipped away, giving peanut’s leash over to jungkook, and yoongi and taehyung both left with her. 

  “i’m so sorry, was it something i said?” you blurted to jungkook, as soon as the three were out of your line of sight. what a horrible first impression you must have just made.

  jungkook said, “ah, no, it’s nothing, really. . .there is something you should know, though.” he took a second, as if preparing himself. “you see, my mom and dad passed away six years ago.”

  “what?”

  the familiar feeling of grief struck you like a lightning bolt, causing your chest to drop and you blood to run cold. you thought you heard him wrong. six years ago? your grandpa never told you this - or maybe he did and it went in one ear and out the other. you couldn’t believe it, your body frozen and detached. 

  “hey, it’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” he reached over and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, instantly calming you down at his touch. 

  you shook your head anyway. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.” you didn’t know what else to say.

  “really, it’s fine,” he broke out into a light chuckle. “it was an accident and it happened a long time ago. it’s just a bit hard on jiwon because she doesn’t really remember them.”

  “oh, i feel awful!”

  “it’s okay, y/n,” jungkook continued to assure you, while peanut just looked up at you with those big eyes.

  you still didn’t seem to find the words, as you mentally grasped at any remaining memories of jungkook’s parents. they were always around during the summer and were always so good to you. they cared for you like one of their own. jungkook’s mom always joked that you were the daughter she always wanted.

  jungkook decided to be the one to change the subject, even though you had lingering questions about his and jiwon’s situation. he told you the reason why the four of you were in the grocery store in the first place, talking your ear off about how excited he was for his friend’s birthday party tomorrow.

  “we’re throwing him a surprise party at the local pub - well, i guess it’s the only one in town,” he prattled and looked at his feet. “do you, uh, want to come? it’ll be a lot of fun.”

  you felt your cheeks turn hot. “oh, i really shouldn’t intrude - “ something about jungkook inviting you out to a social setting made you nervous like a school girl.

  “no! no, it’s no intrusion at all,” jungkook interjected, “trust me! there aren’t a lot of people our age in town and we’re all pretty close, so it’d be nice if you could meet everyone, too. jin is a really friendly person, he’ll want to meet you and make sure you’re fitting in well and everything.”

  you paused. “i don’t know. . .”

  “think about it!” he continued to insist, as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. oh no. now, you were really frozen in place.

  what was it about the way jungkook made you so nervous? this was literally the little boy that used to cry if your beyblade was stronger than his. you couldn’t believe yourself.

  jungkook tapped on his phone a few time and then turned it around for you. “put in your contact. i’ll text you sometime tomorrow afternoon and see if you made your mind up?”

you did, in fact, give jeon jungkook your number. your hands were quivering ever so slightly when you did, but at least you didn’t have to be the one to ask. it gave you heavy relief that you didn’t have to be the one to text first either. but, then, you came to terms with the fact that you were certainly going to be checking your phone every two minutes for a text from the man in question. this was insane.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822@seokout @firelcrds

[moonyswritinq]

charles x american!reader? inspo from the song so american by olivia rodrigo? like him just making fun of an american accent lol

so american — charles rowland x gn reader

❝ SO AMERICAN ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Headcanons/oneshot for Charles with an American reader, based on Olivia Rodrigo’s song ‘So American’.

PAIRING ➢ charles rowland x american gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ pining, banter, implicit sex, ish-canon timeline, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT ➢3.3 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I didn’t know if you wanted a one shot or headcanons, but I felt like this would best fit as a mix of the two. I sort of got carried away. thank you for the request and hope you enjoy!

And if you do enjoy, I URGE you to like, reblog AND comment!!! It's so important to me as a writer.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

Drivin' on the right-side road He says I'm pretty wearin' his clothes And he's got hands that make Hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard, he's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote

Charles had a habit of taking everything lightly and making jokes to play off serious situations, something that could bother you at times.

The first time you met, for instance, was one of those times.

You were driving down the road of your little town and had to slam the brakes as to not run over the incredibly handsome, but incredibly stupid, boy that had just tried to cross the road.

You had honked at him and he looked up in surprise before immediately being pulled back by the hands of a red-headed girl. He broke out in a grin as you drove off with a scoff, internally cursing him.

The next time you saw him was only later that same day, surprisingly at your family friend’s, and the local butcher’s, shop.

You had walked in an immediately let out a sigh of annoyance, one of which he heard and turned around with that same grin plastered on his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the boy with a death wish,” you muttered, ignoring him and his friends to go up to the counter. Unluckily for you, Jenny was not there.

The boy scratched his neck bashfully. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Forgot you lot drive on the right side of the road, which is technically the wrong side of the road. Just wasn’t looking.”

An eyebrow raised in his direction. English.

He stepped forward with a hand outstretched. “The name’s Charles. Pleased to meet you.”

You took it as a shiver ran up your spine, weirdly so cold to the touch he felt warm. It was the first time you managed to get a proper look at him, admiring his stylish clothes and sharp features. And his eyes were as warm as his hand was, deep swirling pools of darkness that seemed to emit nothing but light. You smiled back, introducing yourself.

“Pleasure. And this is Edwin, Crystal, and Niko,” he introduced his friends behind him, who all gave you a smile except for the uptight-looking Edwin.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” you said, turning back to the counter as Jenny came out. You handed her the keys to the car with a wink. “Thanks for letting me borrow your car, Jenny. Told you I would return it without a scratch.”

She raised a doubtful eyebrow. “That is left to be seen, kiddo.”

You were about to turn around just when you caught the end of the other teenagers’ conversation. “Did you guys just say ‘Point No Point?” you asked and swivelled around to face them.

Niko nodded enthusiastically, briefly glancing at the boys. “Yeah, we’re going there for a—um, to meet someone there.”

“That’ll take ages without a car,” you remarked.

Crystal sighed. “Well, I can’t drive. How are we gonna get there?”

Your lips lifted into the beginning of a smirk as you turned back to Jenny. She heaved a deep sigh and threw back the keys into your hands.

Your smile broke out as you thanked her and motioned for the others to follow you. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Charles insisted on sitting in the front seat beside you, his feet up on the dashboard, tapping his finger along to the music in the car. You thought it was oddly charming.

You had asked what their whole deal was and Niko had inevitably revealed that they were the Dead Boy Detectives and that Charles was, in fact, dead. Upon hearing it, you almost slammed the breaks again in pure shock but managed to keep driving as if nothing.

And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so American

It also started raining on your way there, making you groan in frustration as you remarked that “all this water is going to get Jenny’s car so muddy.”

“‘Wa-der,’” he had chuckled under his breath.

In an instant, you had turned to him with a harsh glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” came his amused reply. “You’re just so American.”

It wasn’t nothing, though. It was the first of many remarks against your American accent.

You had arrived at the lighthouse and very warily gotten out of the car. Somehow you had gotten roped up in their case and was now there to help them out through the end.

Charles had noticed your shivering in the cold rain and offered you his jacket which, despite ghost physics, was quite heavy and warm. You supposed ghosts couldn’t really get wet by normal rain, as both Edwin and Charles seemed unbothered by it.

You had tried to argue against taking it, claiming that you wouldn’t want to ‘strip him of any of his Britishness’, to which he had only scoffed and heaved the thing onto you while saying, “so American of you to assume my Britishness can be stripped away merely by my coat.”

Charles had then given you an appraising look and, while the others were distracted by the ghosts on the pier, bent down slightly to say, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.”

Your cheeks had warmed immediately and you’d turned away to not give it away, earning a chuckle. It made you smile though.

He learnt quickly that complimenting you would earn him a blush and a soft nudge against his ribcage, which made him do it even more.

That was also when he liked pointing out your accent. It started as a small observation, but eventually evolved into insults and bits.

He did it every chance he got; saying ‘lit-er-ally’ with an over-exaggerated vocal fry; ‘aloominum’; ‘hey, y’all’; and, his absolute favourite of them all, ‘i’m walkin here!’. Half of them made you laugh incessantly and the other half made you drag a hand over your face in frustration.

The worst was when he would parrot you personally, making you half wondering if you should be ashamed of your accent. When you had asked him about it, though, he had been quick to assure you that he loved your accent.

And that was when you started doing it back to him.

It became a game for the two of you, often just imitating each other’s accents.

“Are you ‘schewpid’?” you asked, turning to him.

He chuckled dryly, cocking his head in your direction. “Yeah, yeah, while you’re throwing insults at me I am just going to go grab a ‘kawfee’.”

You scoffed. “You’re a ghost, Charles. You can’t have coffee.”

“I can, but it just tastes disgusting.”

“Okay, well, while you’re at it, ‘kan I please ‘ave a cupa wa’a’?” you said, meeting his defiant gaze before he  burst out in laughter. It made your insides warm knowing you were the cause of that laugh.

“Would you two please stop it?” came Crystal’s irritated reply. Edwin only rolled his eyes at your antics but you knew he agreed with Crystal’s discontent. You caught Charles’ gaze and broke out in a smile.

“I don’t know,” said Niko, fiddling with her fingers, “I think it’s cute when they do that.”

And just like that, you both fell silent and turned away from each other.

Oh, God, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere he goes

You knew you liked him, a lot. But you hadn’t dared admit anything to him or anyone else and tried your best to hide it—not that you were doing a very good job.

The only thing that knew what you felt were the thrown-away poems you had written on a whim, his beaming face starkly imprinted in your mind.

You didn’t think it was fair for him to make you feel that much, enough to actually write poems about him. God, you were whipped (Charles would have definitely made fun of your using that word if he heard it).

You came with the Dead Boy Detectives on all their cases, now an honorary member in their Detective Agency. You enjoyed a lot of detective stories, like Sherlock Holmes and so seemingly had absorbed some of it, because you were quite good at figuring out clues.

It was all practically worth it to see Charles' smile directed at you after you had discovered something.

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you The way you dress, and the books you read

And despite it all, you didn’t feel quite enough for him. He was a charismatic and vibrant person, while you thought of yourself as quite rude and boring.

Sometimes you wondered if you were too harsh in your remarks at Charles’ britishness, but then remembered his always-present smile that met your gaze and your worries fell away.

Nothing had happened up until that point, but it became increasingly more difficult denying anything being between you two.

Even Edwin started catching on and asking if something was between you two, which lead to some very awkward silences where Charles would drag Edwin away with an apologetic smile thrown your way.

Until finally it got too difficult to deny.

Niko would ask you something about a case and somehow you would end up talking about Charles’ smile, his eyes, the way he dressed and what he was interested in. She finally got so sick of it and decided to just call you out on it.

“You like Charles.”

You opened your mouth to protest but she put a finger against your lips, causing you to be too stunned to speak.

“And don’t say that you don’t, because it’s obvious,” she said, removing her finger.

“It’s not that obvious, is it?” you asked. You refused to meet her gaze and instead tried to look anywhere but her.

“Yes, it is.” She sighed, bringing her hands up to clasp your shoulders. “We all know it. Even Charles. But he won’t admit it either, so please go talk to him before we all die.”

You rolled your eyes, but felt a small smile start to form on your lips. “OK, just a little dramatic there?”

Niko shook her head with a serious expression on her face. “No. Now go find him.”

She had shooed you away after that, making sure that both Edwin and Crystal were distracted enough so that you could slip out to talk to Charles privately.

You found him in the other room, rooting through his backpack to find something ridiculously large, no wonder.

And he says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry him If he keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

He seemed to have heard your footsteps as you were coming in because he tilted his head in your directing, flashing his trademark smile.

The sight of it made you swoon and you had to take a deep breath in order to collect your thoughts. When he finally asked what was up, your words came out jumbled and very much not like you had planned them to come out.

“Hey, hey,” he said, taking ahold of your shoulders and meeting your nervous gaze with his steady one. “Take a deep breath. C’mon, breathe with me.”

You did as he said, breathing with him, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that spread along with his touch. When you had collected yourself, he smiled and let go, much to your disappointment.

“That’s it. Now, what’s on your mind?” he asked.

You strode past him, opting to face the window instead of seeing his face. It only made it harder to get out any coherent sentences. “Why’d you think anything was on my mind?”

“Well,” remarked Charles, strolling after you, “it’s not everyday you storm in here as if the world is ending and then end up babbling like a stroke patient.”

You stared at him in horror before rolling your eyes. “Stop being so British, Charles.”

“Sorry, no can do, love.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” you muttered to yourself.

“What?” he asked immediately, striding right in front of you so he could look you in the eyes.

“Look,” you started, refusing to meet his eye and instead looking anywhere else. Although, you could feel his  gaze burning into your skull. “I might have developed some… feelings for you.”

Charles’ eyes widened at your words and you tried to turn again but he grabbed your shoulder to hold you in place. You sighed and finally met his gaze. His eyes were the same mysterious pools of darkness that you were used to, but you might have fooled yourself to imagine something else in them—something hopeful.

You decided to continue your confession because you were far past the point of redemption and might as well get it all out in one go.

“And the problem is, Charles, that however hard I try not to, I keep developing feelings for you. Even your annoying habits and antics cause me to fall for you. And, I swear to God, that if you keep this shit up I’m going to be properly gone for you.”

You waited a breath for his reaction, but when nothing came you were forced to ask him again. “Charles?”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered out, his voice suddenly dry and cracked. “Sorry, I—uh, I was not prepared for that.”

You shrugged. “That’s alright. We’ll just go back to being friends. Nothing needs to change.”

He shook his head violently. “That’s absolutely not OK.”

You had but a moment to be surprised before he went in for the best kiss you had had yet in your short life. He held you like he had never touched anything before in his life and kissed you like he was a dying man and you were the cure. You weren't sure how much of it he could feel, but the psychological effect was immediate and mind blowing.

He may be dead but he had never felt more alive than in that moment.

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me When he's with me

Your relationship escalated quickly after that first kiss. You didn’t define it as anything, but it made you happier just knowing he was there by your side—and you could all him yours.

And you wasted no time in physically progressing your relationship—AKA you did not get much sleeping done.

It was a different kind of vulnerable, allowing yourself to give your soul and body to Charles, and him trusting you with himself.

Because of his being a ghost, it felt like so much more an emotional and psychological experience which only made you appreaciate it, and him, more.

By the looks of it, he enjoyed it as well—more than enjoyed it. He couldn’t stop smiling at you afterwards, while he laid on the bed beside you and gazed at you with half-dazed eyes.

Charles let himself curl around you, embracing you. You weren’t sure if ghosts could get tired, but nonetheless he whispered out a, “I’m knackered.”

You had nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “You’re so British.”

He kissed your forehead softly, and you felt it more than you had ever felt him before. “And you’re so American.”

You only chuckled and let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms holding you close.

You never wanted to get out of bed or leave him, and he utilised that fact to his every advantage.

He did everything he could to keep you in bed with him, even though he probably didn’t sleep much, just wanting to hold you close.

It wasn’t fair how easy he made your heart melt.

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon But if the conversation ever were to come up I don't wanna assume this stuff But ain't it love? I think I'm in love

It didn’t take long for you to know that it wasn’t merely affection you felt for Charles, but something much deeper.

You didn’t want to presume Charles felt anything close to what you felt, though.

So you continued acting like whatever the two of you were—kissing and hooking up—not quite a couple but not quite friends with benefits, but something in between that went deep between you two.

Without any real definition for what you two were, it frightened you out of saying anything to him.

So you kept going with the featherlight kisses, the quiet giggles after one of you said a joke and were trying to cover it up as to not disturb the rest of the group, and the endless nights where you could be in his arms and have not a care in the world.

But it was on your mind, constantly.

Oh, how you just wished to say those three words to him, to just have it out in the open. So he could have you with the truth staring into his face and do with you what he pleased.

You wanted to splay yourself open for him, vulnerable and unafraid, show him yourself and let him love you back with the same ferocity with which you loved.

And finally, it became too much.

He was on his way out for one of the cases, one of which you chose not to go with them to. He had just collected all his belongings in that backpack of his and went in for a goodbye kiss.

“Be careful,” you whispered between parted lips, leaving the ghost of your words on his mouth. He smiled through it and pulled away.

“Always am,” came his cheeky reply, winking at you before turning to the door. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you called, and then, without thinking, “Love you.”

It took a mere moment for his brain to register your words before he halted and slowly turned in his step.

“What?”

Your own eyes widened in surprise of yourself and you were quick to come up with a way to play it off as a mistake or a stumble upon your words. But he crossed the distance between you with long strides, dropping his backpack and bringing his hands up to hold your cheeks tenderly.

“What did you just say?” he whispered, eyes shifting back and forth between yours trying to find the truth in your words. Your mouth fell agape, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him again, so close now so that you could feel his short breaths of air on your skin. “Please,” he said again, voice so soft you had to strain to hear him.

“I mean, it might be a little too much, too soon, and I don’t want to assume anything, but..” Your voice trailed off, breaking. Your lips fought to form the words that so desperately wanted to make their way out of you. “But I—I love you, Charles.”

He breathed out huge sigh of relief and captured your lips with his. “I love you too,” he whispered between breaths, barely audible.

Your smile could not be hindered as he kissed you back, fiercely and passionately. He kept pressing kisses on your mouth, on the corner of your lips, trailing to your cheeks, to your neck, down to your shoulders and your chest. All the while he kept repeating those same three words, “I love you,” over and over again, pressing them into your skin. Into your soul, essentially.

Your hands were grasped in his hair, fingers curling around his locks as you felt every touch of his lips that brought forth a shiver down your spine. Not from the coldness, though, but from the feeling of his soul connecting to yours.

He kept pressing featherlight kisses to you with small ‘I love you’s, and you couldn’t fight the laugh that escaped its way through you.

“Okay, stop it” you whispered, pulling his head away to grasp his face in your hands. You met his eyes with a smile and his beaming grin made your insides melt. “I love you so much, Charles.”

He laughed, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you too.”

“Now, come on, you got a case to solve.”

Charles let himself be lead away to the others, refusing to let go of your hand. He even pressed kisses to the back of it every chance he got, and you were roped into going to the case with the rest of them, if only not to leave Charles’ side.

Tag list: @bookholichany, @heartsfromcoco, @scriblezz, @a-gay-dumbass, @eunxhan, @loverclear, @shobolanya, @edit-me-prettyplease

[sserpente]

The Mistletoe Tradition

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

A/N: I’m not sure if Christmas/Yule is a thing in Faerûn but if it wasn’t… I sure made it a thing now! Worked in some of his actual quotes for it to be even more relatable because we're all simps, lol. Also using Yule and Christmas interchangeably here because I can. Merry Christmas to you all! ♥

Words: 2197

Warnings: fluff

“Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…” Humming to yourself, you rummaged through your bag to take a closer look at the items you had snatched on your journey today. A bag full of peanuts, perfect to still your hunger on the road, a new dagger you had taken from a corpse, for your old one was falling apart at the hilt, a letter from an Iron Fist written to Lord Enver Gortash himself, and—perhaps most importantly—a little snow globe you had found in an abandoned cottage. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing and had definitely been worth Lae’zel’s eye roll.

You were headed towards Baldur’s Gate and decided to rest in the Elfsong Tavern where Gale, Wyll, and Halsin were currently discussing the price of a room to stay in for the next couple of days. The air smelled like mulled wine and pine cones, and the tables in the tavern were decorated with tree branches, candles and sliced oranges and cinnamon sticks. The atmosphere was lovely—festive. You leaned against Astarion with your cheek against his chest, a sigh escaping your lips.

The pale elf was quite used to your—at least by his standards—unusual behaviour by now. Well… sort of. He’d expected more hostility toward him after the night he tried to bite you, that much you knew. Instead, you’d offered to help and… huh, secretly drooled all over him.

He certainly knew what he was doing and you hated that it worked. You didn’t want to turn into a giggling and blushing mess in his presence and yet… that was exactly what happened. Every. Single. Day. You tried to hide it as best as you could but at this point, you were pretty certain that he knew you were a hopeless case whenever he was near. And once you’d started sleeping with each other… you had become putty in his hands entirely, desperate for his touch even when it wasn’t sexual.

You offered him a cuddling dose daily now and you never let go until he did.

“All right, everyone. We’re settled. The owner has agreed to give us one of the suites upstairs. It has thirteen beds, its own washing area, and a fireplace. I don’t know about you but I am knackered,” Wyll announced as he cracked his bones.

“You go ahead without me. I’d like to take care of something real quick. I won’t be long,” you said, the idea thundering through your head with a start having you beam from the inside out.

Gale lifted a hand as if to raise everyone’s attention before speaking. “I hope so! I have a perfectly hearty rabbit stew planned for supper.”

It had taken the inn owner ten gold pieces and a lot of convincing to get you a Yule Tree. Was it important in midst of everything that was happening? Possibly not. Were you still humming Christmas songs yet again as you carried a small box full of ornaments and decorations up the wooden stairs to your room? Absolutely.

Gale was already cooking. They all knew the very moment you entered the room with it that the tree someone had brought up in the meantime was your doing. And now, while the others were getting ready to rest for the day, you began decorating the room as if you didn’t have a care in the world. And for just a moment, you pretended you didn’t.

You spotted Astarion glancing at you from the corners of your eye. He’d crossed his arms before his chest, looking as handsome as ever and even more so now with his hair still a little damp from getting the dust of the road off of him.

“Need something?” You smiled, noticing how he admired the pine cones dipped in molten silver and the delicious-smelling orange slices on the tree for just a second too long. The straw stars you were specifically proud of as you stood on your tiptoes and stretched to put the biggest one on the tip of the tree, completing your masterwork.

“Oh, don’t mind me… I’m just enjoying the show.”

You blinked at him, gnashing your teeth as you felt a treacherous heat creeping up your cheeks, for his gaze was by no means fixed on the tree anymore but your behind. At times it was still hard to believe this incredible elf was attracted to you of all people.

“Is this really necessary? I mean, really? You’re wasting our time and energy on decorating a tree?”

“Hey… we won’t know yet if that’s our last Christmas. I don’t mean to be pessimistic but you know just as well as I do that there is a good chance we won’t make it out of this alive. I might as well enjoy the little things until… I can’t. You never know. Besides, this is the first time in weeks we’re sleeping with a roof over our heads. We have beds and a fireplace. I would be silly not to decorate a little, especially with a recent murder right next door.”

“Well… I suppose… but don’t expect me to help you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, oh fangy one! I’m actually done and it looks absolutely amazing, if I may say so.”

Astarion scoffed—playfully so. It was then Halsin joined, admiring your tree up close with a second portion of stew in his hands.

“Well, I think it looks beautiful. There’s no better way to get into the festive spirit than with a little bit of nature in one’s home.”

You fought hard to hide the chuckle bubbling up your throat when Astarion rolled his eyes as soon as the druid turned away again.

“The man really can’t shut up about enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts.”

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. Needless to say, your companions’ shocked expressions made you cackle even more but perhaps the surprise on Astarion’s face was what brought you even more joy than the way he had mimicked Halsin.

“In the end, it won’t be the mind flayers who kill me. It’ll be you,” you choked out, wiping your eyes with the ball of your thumb. Gods, you were actually crying from laughter.

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

“Do they now?”

You grinned.

“Well… in that case, we better not risk the wrath of whatever god came up with it.”

“That would be Frigg, wife of Odin and mother of Baldur who never wanted the mistletoe to be forgotten again after Loki—“ You didn’t manage to finish your sentence for in the next moment, Astarion pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was a promise and a reward, a display of affection… and a small gesture of care warming your heart.

“How do you always do that?” you murmured against his mouth, breaking the kiss just long enough to draw a deep breath. “Leave me wanting for more? Tempting me?”

“Tempting you, hmm? Well… You know what they say… the only way to cure a temptation… is to give in to it.”

A little squeak escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You pressed your lips together to a thin line, eyes wide as your hand flew up to your mouth to cover it. But of course, Astarion had heard you. Amused, he quirked an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.”

“Really? Because I think I heard quite the delectable little noise coming from your lips just now.”

“N-no. Oh gods, you have to stop this. I will melt, Astarion. I will literally melt and then you can go get a mop and wipe me up!”

Astarion laughed, surprise mixing with delight. “Oh, darling, I could go all night… as you well know,” he purred.

Another squeak. He’d caught on to it now, of course—that the reason for those inhumane sounds escaping your body was all his doing. Oh, for fuck’s sake…

“Okay, that’s it.” Arms akimbo, you narrowed your eyes at him. You were all but flustered when you grabbed the collar of his shirt with such vigour, the tiniest hint of surprise and hesitation flittered across his face before his smug smirk returned and you kissed him yet again, longer and more passionately this time.

“You really will be the death of me” you breathed against his lips. “It’s a nice way to go though, I won’t complain.” The urge to rip off his clothes there and then grew stronger with every passing second. You knew he wasn’t ready yet, despite his relentless teasing and you’d be the last person to push him but… judging by how he wrapped his arms around your waist yet again and pressed you closer to his body yet again, a heartfelt kiss was never off limits.

You sighed against his lips, the mistletoe dropping to the ground. Only the gods knew what would have happened if you had not been interrupted despite your fellow companions still in the room but alas, the door burst open with a bang so loud you both flinched.

“This… is… AWESOME!” When Karlach entered the room, she was wearing the ugliest Yule sweater you had ever seen. Tinsel and two baubles were hanging from her horn and in her hands, she held a massive candy cane and a mug of what you assumed was eggnog. “I LOVE Christmas! Oh, you got us a tree! We should go and buy presents for each other to unwrap tomorrow!”

“Karlach, please, it’s late and I’m tired,” Astarion complained.

“Fiiiine, tomorrow morning then. A kid downstairs just told me about this fat guy called Santa who climbs through the chimney and puts gifts under the tree if you leave him cookies and milk. Do we have cookies and milk? We have to get cookies and milk!”

You laughed. In that case… you certainly had a long night ahead of you before you could get a good night’s sleep.

Everyone was fast asleep by the time you got up and tiptoed across the cool floorboards on naked feet in the dark, past the crackling fire in the centre of the warm and cosy room, and toward Astarion’s bed. You could hear the wind blowing outside the tavern in the dead of night as you climbed under the covers and cuddled up to your lover who had, without a doubt, been expecting you. Astarion wrapped you in his arms, his lips grazing your bare neck ever so slightly.

“Hello, darling.”

At peace and content, you both listened to the instruments Gale enchanted to play quiet music to lull you all to sleep.

“Well, aren’t you brave, revealing your lovely neck to a vampire like that?”

You chuckled into his pillow, stretching even more.

“You know… I think we’re past the point now where I have to tell you each night that you can… I mean… if you’re hungry just… feed on me, alright?”

“R-Right.” For a moment, a both vulnerable and surprised expression washed over his handsome face—but it was gone before your memory could properly capture it, not to mention the darkness around you made that very difficult. He was so incredibly good at masking his feelings, that you longed to cuddle the shit out of him and tell him that it was all going to be okay. “Well… I’ve only just learned how wonderful it feels to have a choice and have your boundaries respected, all thanks to you. I’d actually prefer if you asked.”

So instead, you settled for wriggling yourself under the covers until he stirred.

“That’s… that’s good. That’s very good,” you whispered as you cuddled up to him even more.

“So? Can’t you sleep or are you just too excited until morning to see me again, love?”

You chuckled. “Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

In the dark, it was hard to tell whether Astarion’s confusion was real or feigned. It was amusing nonetheless. “You will find that all the beds in this room are the same, pet.”

“No. No they aren’t. Mine doesn’t have you in it.”

“Oh… my cheeky little pup.”

Your chuckle turned into a childish giggle as a jolt of electricity rippled through you as if Gale had hit you with a lightning blast.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” you whispered.

Astarion hummed in response. “Well… yes. Though I have to admit I have never met anyone displaying their excitement as openly as you, darling.”

“I’ll make sure to never stop. Merry Christmas, Astarion.”

The vampire spawn sighed when you shuffled even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

A/N: And Merry Christmas to you all as well! ♥ I had to dedicate this year's Christmas Imagine to Astarion. I fell so hard for him thanks to Neil, it's insane. I hope you'll spend some lovely days with your loved ones! ♥

[mynameismckenziemae]

When the Stars Align

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader

This is my submission for the International Bob Floyd Fucks Month (hosted by @attapullman).

Summary: You (call sign: Stealth) find out your boyfriend’s been cheating on you for months the night before you’re leaving for a camping trip with friends. Will you act on the feelings you’ve been trying to ignore? The answer is yes.

WC: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, oral (both m and f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), being called good girl 🤤, one bed kinda trope, mutual masturbation, etc.

“What’s up with Stealth?” Bob asks, nodding in your direction as you walk up the driveway. Your eyes are puffy like you haven’t slept in weeks.

“She broke up with Tyler last night. He’s been cheating on her for months,” Nat sighs, “I hurt for her, but I’m glad he’s gone. He was such an asshole.”

Bob’s heart races but he places it cool as he murmurs his agreement. It’s too soon, but his hope soars as he realizes he might be able to take his chance after years of silently pining after you.

“Hey guys! Sorry, I’m late. But I brought coffee!” You smile, juggling the tray of drinks, your sleeping bag, and duffle.

Bob takes your stuff, packing it into the van as you hand out the coffees.

“Thanks, Stealth,” Nat says, squeezing your shoulder. “You okay?”

You give a small smile and nod. “Yeah, actually. I’m tired, but I just feel relieved now.”

“Good. Maybe you can act on that little crush on Bob you’ve been harboring this weekend…” she replies, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Shhhh! I’ve only been single for like 12 hours, so it’s too soon….right?”

Jake interrupts before she can reply. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Campsite is 3 hours away, we’re burning daylight-hey!”

Bradley comes up behind him and slaps his ass. “Calm your tits, it’s barely 7. We can’t even check in until 11.”

“Well we have to account for traffic and bathroom breaks and…” Jake trails off as Bradley pushes him to the driver's seat as the rest of you pile into the van.

Javy and Natasha take the bucket seats, which leaves the back bench seat for you and Bob.

Bradley does a final check, making sure the tents and kayaks are strapped down before hitting the tailgate button and getting in the front seat before it closes.

No one notices that your sleeping bag fell out as Jake drives away.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It was a fight to stay awake not even 15 minutes into the ride; you were exhausted. Your now ex-boyfriend had been blowing your phone all night and you’d only gotten about 3 hours of sleep.

You drift off and soon your head lolls onto his shoulder.

Someone’s running their fingers through your hair. Bob, you think as you get a hint of his comforting clean-laundry scent.

“Hey, we’re here,” Bob murmurs, rubbing your shoulder.

You startle, quickly sitting up. “Sorry! God, I’m so tired. Did I sleep on you the whole time?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. You don’t snore like Bradley.”

“Hey! I do not!” Bradley turns back, offended.

“Yes, you do,” everyone replies in unison.

“It’s okay babe, it’s cute,” Jake says, pressing a kiss to his cheek before opening his door and getting out.

“It’s not cute,” Javy mutters under his breath, following suit.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It’s late afternoon by the time everyone gets back to the campsite after your hike and it’s nearing dark by the time the tents are finally set up.

“So uh…we really didn’t think this through, did we?” Jake says, scratching the back of his neck as he looks at the 3 tents in front of them.

“It’s fine, you and Bradley can sleep in one, I’ll sleep with Stealth, and Bob and Javy can take the other,” Natasha offers.

“No, I know you and Javy hardly ever get to sleep by each other. Bob and I can share one. We’re adults and we each have our own sleeping bag. As long as you’re okay with that?” You ask, turning to Bob.

“Fine by me,” he answers, thankful it’s dusk so no one can see his flush.

“Perfect. Now, let’s have some drinks!” You say, opening the cooler.

“Are you sure?” Nat asks as you hand her a beer.

“I’m sure. It’ll be fine.”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It wasn’t fine.

“What's wrong?” Bob asks as he rolls his sleeping bag out on the queen-sized air mattress.

“I can’t find my sleeping bag,” you sigh, zipping the door closed. “It’s not in the van, Bradley’s snoring and it sounds like Javy and Nat are…preoccupied. It’s okay though, I can just use the blanket I brought to put under it.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

Yes. “No, I think I’ll be okay.”

“You sure? You can take mine and I’ll use the blanket.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks though,” you smile up at him as you cover up.

He turns to set his glasses down and your mouth waters when his lean, muscular back is revealed as he takes off his shirt.

You look away, hoping he doesn’t notice your blush when he turns. He flicks the lantern off and climbs in, and you accidentally roll right into him. Damn air mattresses.

“Oof, sorry!” You stammer, scrambling away.

“It’s okay, my fault,” he replies, chuckling nervously. ‘G’night Stealth.”

“Night.”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You. Were. Cold.

Shivering, teeth chattering cold. It was only in the low 60s, but you’d never handled being cold well.

Bob unzips his sleeping bag with a sigh and stands. “Hand me your blanket.”

“What? W-w-why?”

“Because you’re shivering. I’m going to put mine over us both and then we’ll put yours over it.”

“O-o-okay,” you agree, gasping when the cold air hits you. But it’s only for a second before the fleece-lined inside of his blanket covers you. He drapes your thin one over it and then gets under them both, drawing your back against his front.

“Just until you warm up, okay?” He murmurs near your ear, causing a different kind of shiver to roll through you.

“Mhmm,” you answer.

After a few minutes you’re finally getting warm, but you’re too comfortable to move and you drift off wrapped in his arms.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You wake up to his quiet, breathy gasps and a sizable hard-on pressing into your ass.

Your nipples tighten as arousal shoots through you, settling between your legs at the sounds leaving him. He mumbles your name and continues to rut. He’s still asleep.

As much as you want to stay right where you are and see if he finishes, you wiggle from under his arm and stretch with a yawn.

You smile as he sleepily opens his eyes, a flush creeps in when he realizes what’s going on under the blanket but you act none the wiser. “Morning, I’m going to shower before it gets too busy. Wanna come?”

His eyes flutter close at your unintentional innuendo but he catches himself. “Yeah, sure. Uhhh…let me get my stuff and I’ll meet you out there.”

“Sounds good.” You reply, turning your back to get your clothes and shower bag together before unzipping the tent.

To your disappointment, he put his tee shirt back on. But to your amusement, he’s got his towel strategically placed in front of him.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It’s thankfully a short walk to the bathrooms.

“I wonder if you’ll hear me sing,” you say, giggling at his expression. “I like to sing in the shower. Look, the bathrooms are connected.” You point to the 12-inch gap at the top of the wall between the bathrooms.

You wink and step into to the women’s side.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Bob barely gets the shower curtain closed before he’s fisting his cock, biting his lip to keep from groaning. He jerks himself quickly, so worked up and trying to hurry so you’re not waiting but he freezes when he hears your soft, feminine moan. Was…was that you?

“Oh fuck,” he grunts quietly, gripping the base to stave off his orgasm when he hears you again.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

On the other side of the wall, you’re already getting close, so turned after months of mediocre orgasms from your own hand while watching mediocre porn; you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about Bob while masturbating when dating another man. Not to mention that the other man hadn’t ‘finished the job’ in over a year. But now you were single.

You grind the heel of your palm against your clit, and your core tightens as you teeter on the edge. You hear his soft curse and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge. A soft whimper escapes as the pleasure flows through you.

His answering groan has you clenching again but you sigh in disappointment when hear footsteps approaching the bathroom.

“You’re up early,” Nat calls from the shower beside yours.

“Yeah, I got cold. Hey, have you seen my sleeping bag?”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You give Bob a nonchalant smile as you greet him outside the bathroom. “Nat hasn’t seen my sleeping bag. I’ll check with Jake and Bradley get too, but I’m guessing it got left behind somehow.”

“Gotcha. Hey, so-“ he starts but is interrupted by Bradley cooking breakfast.

“How do you guys want your eggs?”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

The morning was spent hiking and finished the afternoon kayaking on the lake. You caught Bob checking you in your bikini out more than once, but you were just as guilty, it was just easier to hide under your sunglasses.

You realize you hadn’t felt this light in years as you laugh around the bonfire later, listening to Jake telling a story about when he was a kid.

“I feel gross, I’m gonna hit the showers,” Jake says, slapping his knees and rising.

“Me too, I’ve got sand everywhere,” Bradley agrees.

Javy yawns, “I think I’m gonna hit the hay, Nat?”

She doesn’t respond as she’s already fast asleep with her hat pulled over her eyes.

A few minutes later it’s just you and Bob and the crackling of the fire under the stars.

“I never get to see the stars like this in the city, it’s so beautiful out here,” you murmur, eyes on the sky.

“Sure is,” he replies, eyes on you.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It’s cold your tent. Again.

You fail to suppress your shivers as Bob slides under the blankets.

“Jesus Stealth, your feet are like ice!” He gasps as he brushes them with his own.

“Sorry. I don’t handle cold w-w-well,” your teeth chatter.

“I can tell. C’mere,” he chuckles, drawing you to him.

“Bob?” You murmur against his bare chest a few minutes later as his fingers trace along your spine.

“Yeah?”

“I like you…and I’ve liked you for a long time. I was already planning on breaking things off with Tyler in person next month when he was going to visit, but he made everything easier when I found out he cheated. I wasn’t even angry or upset. I was relieved…and kind of excited actually because that I could finally tell you how I feel about you and see if you feel the same way about-“

Bob cuts off your rambling by pressing a kiss to your lips. “I like you too, Stealth. I have for years.”

You smile and bring your lips back to his. He kisses you slowly and meticulously, memorizing every reaction he pulls from you.

Ever the gentleman, his hands don’t leave their position from the curve of your waist and the hinge of your jaw.

Time to literally take matters into your own hands.

He pulls from your lips with a gasp when you reach down and palm him.

“Oh my God, Bob. You’re huge,” you moan as you slip your hand down the front of his pants and grasp him.

You push gently at him and once he’s on his back, you trail kisses from his neck to his chest, smirking at the way he jolts when your teeth graze his nipples and continue your way south.

Your eyes widen at the size of his cock as it’s revealed when you tug his pants down.

That’s not gonna fit.

“Yes it will,” he chuckles breathlessly. You’re thankfully it’s dark as you blush, not realizing you said it out loud.

You bend forward and flick your tongue over the precum beading, moaning at the salty taste before licking him from base to tip, finally sucking his head into your mouth when he breathes, “Please?”

You get a little over half of him in your mouth before you’re fighting your gag reflex and have to let up.

You take a deep breath and suck him sloppily a few times, letting the excess saliva as lubricant for your hand to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. He sighs when you finally get into a good rhythm and pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to watch you in the dim moonlight.

“Ah! Wa-wait, wait, Stealth! I’m gonna cum,” he pants, tugging gently on your hair.

But you shake your head as you continue, tears leaking as you resist the urge to gag when his tip kisses the back of your throat. His body starts to tense and your teary gaze meets his as your free hand cups his sac and gently tugs.

His eyes squeeze close and he scrambles for your pillow, holding it over his face to muffle his deep groan as cums.

Your arousal coats your thighs and you rub them together to get some sort of relief as swallow it greedily with a quiet moan of your own.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You give him a shy smile as he sets the pillow aside and the next thing you know you’re pinned under him with your shirt rucked up to your chin. He’s working you into a frenzy by alternating between your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple while he laves and sucks the other.

You need more. “Bob? I’m ready,” you pant, fingers combing through his hair, gently tugging to bring him back up to you.

“You really think I’m gonna let you blow my mind and not return the favor?” He chuckles lowly before pressing a kiss between your breasts then lifting himself to tug your pajama shorts off.

He settles back between your thighs, but you stop him. “Wait! You don’t have to do…that. I-I mean I’m ready to go.”

“Do you not want me to?” He asks, causing you to shiver as his warm breath caresses you.

“I don’t…know? Do you want to? Tyler only did it a few times when we first started dating but could never get me off, then he kind of just stopped and said guys don’t actually like doing it. Gave me a complex,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Another reason he’s a fucking idiot. Yes, I want to. If you’ll let me?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

You nod, hesitant, but any nervousness is forgotten with the first pass of his tongue. Your head falls back against the pillow as he licks into you with his tongue. “Fuck you taste good,” he murmurs against your clit, flicking it gently with his tongue before he grips your ass and pulls you closer.

He doesn’t hold back as he devours you; the perfect variation of sucking, licking, and nipping. A strangled cry is ripped from your throat when he presses his fingers in and curls them against your g-spot.

“Stealth? You okay?” Nat calls sleepily from their tent 15 feet away.

You clench around his fingers, trying to still them as you try to reply steadily. “All good, j-just a dream.”

“Mmkay, G’night.”

“Night,” you answer just as an intense orgasm hits you. You taste the coppery hint of blood as you bite your lip to keep from making noise.

“Mmm,” Bob hums quietly as he works you through it, slowly only when you start to twitch from overstimulation. You whimper when he places a light kiss on your clit before moving back up your body.

“I’m going to lay you on my bed and do that for hours when we get back,” he murmurs against your lips before pecking a kiss to your lips.

“I can’t wait,” you whisper, reaching down to rub the head of his cock between your legs and lining him up.

“Shit, I didn’t bring any condoms,” he sighs, his head dropping to your shoulder in frustration.

“I didn’t either. I do have an IUD though, and I was clean at my physical a few weeks ago before we deployed. I haven’t slept with Tyler in over 5 months and we always used a condom. We could go without if you’re okay with it?”

“I’m clean too, are you sure though?” He asks, arms shaking as he holds himself back.

“I’m sure, I want you to fuck me bare,” you whisper in his ear with a nip to his lobe.

A strangled noise leaves him at your words and he presses forward.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he grits out, pausing to let you adjust halfway In.

You force yourself to relax, take a few deep breaths, and nod, “I’m okay, keep going.”

He groans in your ear when his hips finally meet yours; you whimper in his as he withdraws to push back in.

“Good girl, taking all of me,” he pants, groaning as you clench around him. “Yeah? You like when I call you a good girl?”

You mewl and nod, unable to form words as he angles his hips so your clit gets friction with each thrust.

You sink your teeth into his shoulder when your orgasm takes you by surprise. His jaw clenches and his rhythm falters but he manages to fuck you through it, not giving into his own release.

“You still cold?” He asks when you come back down, still thrusting into you lazily.

“Huh? Uh, no I’m good,” you reply, trying to catch your breath.

“Good.”

He kneels on the ground and pulls you to the edge of the mattress, flipping you onto your stomach. The air is pushed from your lungs when he presses back in; the new angle allows deeper thrusts right over your g-spot.

“Fuc-mmph!” You start, but Bob’s hand over your mouth cuts you off.

“Shhh,” he chuckles quietly. His other hand leaves your hip to dip between your legs, gathering your wetness and coming back up to circle your clit. “Be a good girl and get there again for me?”

Your eyes roll back and you can’t control the moan that leaves you as your orgasm slams into you, thankfully somewhat muffled by his hand.

He chokes as you clench rhythmically and follows you over the edge. He bites his lip to stay quiet and drapes himself over your back while he pumps you full.

He helps get your pajamas on and holds your hand as you walk to the bathroom on unsteady legs.

“I’ll wait for you out here,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mmkay,” you smile.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Natasha walks in with a knowing smirk as you’re drying your hands.

“Must’ve been a good dream, eh?”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Tagging:

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@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

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@vixenobrian

[urhoneycombwitch]

wanna make you feel better

based on this anon 💞

cw: allusions to/discussions about bad sex, Eddie fools around with someone who’s got a sort-of partner, R experiences light post-sex dissociation, mutual pining

wc: 1.3k

 __

It takes a few minutes for your limbs to unwind, to come back into your body after sex- and in those few minutes, Adam has already hastily dressed, kissed you quick and chaste on the forehead, and left your bedroom with a casual “see ya” tossed over his retreating shoulder.

Fuzzily, from your staring-at-the-ceiling vantage point, you hear the front door of your apartment close. Then some quiet voices in the hall- first the familiar low tones of Eddie, followed by a higher-pitched lilt of… Mary? Margot?- and the front door shuts again.

You sigh, long and deep, wiggling your fingers and toes back to life. As if moving through molasses you push yourself to sit up, then to gather your clothes strewn around the floor- underwear first, one leg at a time. Secondhand t-shirt that hits your knees, the band logo nearing a total fade from all the wash cycles Eddie had put it through before it ended up in your laundry.

A knock at your door, and Eddie peeks around the frame, dark curls frizzing and cartoonishly tall in the back- “Hey. You want Oreos or Bugles this time?”

“Uhm.” You pause halfway to putting on your second sock, trying to blink through the brain fog and connect with your stomach, which quickly sours in response- “Neither, I think. Maybe some water.”

Eddie’s rings click against the wood of the doorframe as he taps in acknowledgement. When he turns to leave for the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of bare torso, grey sweatpants slung around bony, boxer-less hips.

Slut, you think, fondly, pulling on your soft sock the rest of the way and padding out into the living room.

The record player in the corner is calling your name, so you kneel to flip through the milk carton stuffed full of yours and Eddie’s combined collection.

“Nothing maudlin,” Eddie calls from the attached kitchen, cabinets banging shut in punctuation. “We have a strict No Wallowing After Bad Sex rule in this house and we’re goddamn sticking to it.”

“Apartment,” you amend, ignoring his instruction and pulling Blue from its sheath. “And wallowing can be therapeutic, y’know.”

With the drop of a needle, Joni Mitchell starts crooning about traveling a lonely road, and Eddie sighs, long and deep, a mirror of yours from earlier.

There’s a clinking of porcelain on glass, and you turn to watch as Eddie sets out bowls of snacks and tall glasses of water- one of them iced the way you like- onto the coffee table.

“Eat up. The midday meal of champs- or losers, depending on your preference.” He collapses with a dramatic huff against the couch, then leans over to dig around in the bowl of Bugles.

I wanna be strong, I wanna laugh along, I wanna belong to the living…

You crawl the short distance it takes to settle your back against the couch, side pressed into Eddie’s leg. There’s an acidic taste at the back of your throat, a mixture of Adam’s release and your own sickened stomach in a nauseating combination; you sip at the cold water, attempting to wash the taste away.

“Here. Doctor’s orders.” Eddie’s hand comes into view- each finger topped with a curved chip.

A giggle works its way out as you tilt your head to pull a Bugle off his finger with your teeth, crunching into the familiar corn flavor- it certainly works to get the lingering taste of shame out of your mouth.

“Don’t get used to seeing Margaret around, by the way- sounds like she’s gonna patch things up with her boyfriend.” Eddie’s hand draws back, a subsequent crunching noise before he speaks around a mouthful of chips- “I know you’ll miss all those scintillating hallway conversations.”

You snort, unsure if he’s referring to the fact that you’ve snooped via ear-pressed-to-door whenever they used to argue, or the handful of times that you and Margaret have politely and coolly interacted due to the one-bathroom setup.

“Well, good for her.” Unable to keep the irritation out of your voice (on Eddie’s behalf, since you’re such good friends and it’s hard to see him treated this way, not because you’re jealous), you dig into the snack bowl, fishing for an Oreo. “Hope Margaret and her weirdo on-and-off again boyfriend with that pedo mustache are very happy together.”

Eddie laughs, a melodic, genuine one that has him doubling over to bump playfully into your side. “Goddammit. That Ed Rooney-looking motherfucker…”

The bite of Oreo goes down smooth and sweet; you lick at the crumbs left behind on your thumb before saying, “And, lucky for our bathroom usage, Adam won’t be around anymore either.”

Eddie groans. “I think that guy uses more hair product than me and Harrington combined, and that’s saying something.”

He seems pleased when you chuckle, taking the warmth of his body previously pressed into your side away as he settles back into the couch. “What was wrong with this one, couldn’t get your rocks off with Ol’ Mister Hairspray?”

“Got my rocks off just fine, thank you very much,” you say, faux-primly, focusing your attention on the glass of water in front of you.

Condensation slips down the side. Your voice gains a gravelly tone that feels dangerously close to preceding tears when you say,  “I just… every time we hook up, I end up feeling lonelier than ever afterwards. And I’m kinda sick of it.”

Do you see, do you see, do you see how you hurt me, baby? So I hurt you too, then we both get so blue…

Eddie’s warm palm (not the one covered in Bugle crumbs) comes to rest on your shoulder, thumb digging gently but firm into the tense muscle at the nape of your neck. A hum purrs from your throat, eyes shutting involuntarily as he manages to zero in on the spot that needs the most care.

 “C’mere,” Eddie says, softly, hand sliding off and away as you unfold your limbs to stand. Once you’re sharing the couch cushion, he goes to pull you in closer but stops when he sees you bite back a smile- “What?”

“Your hair is… insane. In the back. If you haven’t noticed- wait!”

Eddie’s hand freezes halfway to his head with your alert, and you knock it out of the air, chastising- “Gonna have a head full of Bugle crumbs. Let me.”

“Bugle Head. New band name, I call it.” Eddie’s eyes are half-lidded, reminiscent of a cat getting groomed as you smooth down the out-of-place strands, hands cradling the back of his skull briefly before you pull away.

“Didn’t even bother looking in the mirror after going at it like rabbits with your not-girlfriend?” You accentuate your tease with a solid finger-poke to his bare ribs.

Eddie’s hands drop to your waist, pinch just-shy of mean against your hips. “Watch it, pot. And this kettle’s not fucking like a rabbit… more like a semi-interested turtle. With a semi-”

He gets shoved, for that comment, but drops down flat on the couch a bit too easily, pulling you with him.

With your ear pressed to Eddie’s chest, you can hear the whooshing of his blood, the steady thump of it against your cheek. He slips an arm around your lower back while yours encircle his torso, his sweatpantsed-legs twining with your bare ones.

“Why do we keep sleeping with such losers?” you muse aloud, breath unconsciously stalling to match Eddie’s much slower rhythm.

“Dunno.” His hand strokes down the length of your back, likely covering you in snack crumbs, but you find you don’t really mind right now. “Glad I have you to commiserate with, though. They say not all who wander are lost…”

You frown against the smooth skin below your cheek, sensing a trap. “…is that a Tolkein reference?”

“Nope. Shakespeare. Hamlet, if I recall correctly.”

He lets you laugh into his chest, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your upper arm, like he’s trying to hold on to you and the moment at the same time.

You settle, again, breaths joining again. Joni croons on.

Wanna write you a love letter, I wanna make you feel better, I wanna make you feel free…