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violentdelightsandviolentends · 11 months

Text

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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angelicyoongie · 11 days

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lovesick (XVl / finale)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 13.3k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, explicit sexual content unprotected sex, breast play, fingering (vaginal), VERY mild d/s, consensual punishment (spanking), consensual voyeurism (jimin watches like the freak that he is). — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late. — a/n: please read the author's note at the end of the chapter!

Previous - Masterlist

It takes six months before you finally hear the words you've been waiting so desperately for.

"Sunshine, we've been talking and we think it's time we relocate to somewhere else."

Your fork clatters to the table, clicking loudly against your plate. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming – if your brain has started to hallucinate scenarios to make up for how suffocated you feel in this cabin – but Jimin's hand squeezing your knee is too real to be made up.

"What?" You breathe, shocked.

"We can't stay here for much longer, baby, the station uses the cabin sporadically throughout the summer months," Jimin says. He takes a bite of his food, shrugging as he admits, "Our stay here so far hasn't exactly been legal. I'd rather not get us all in trouble for using the place unauthorized."

"We know how cooped up you've been here," Seokjin adds, giving you a sad smile, "We never planned on staying here this long but we had to figure some things out first. We wanted to find a place that was perfect for us, somewhere that could be our home, so we couldn't rush it."

You drop your hands into your lap, clutching them together tightly. You hope it's enough to hide how badly they're trembling, blood pumping loudly in your ears as it dawns on you that this is your ticket out. You might not be able to escape, not in the way you attempted so many months ago at least, but it's a start. The boys wouldn't make this decision if they didn't trust you, if they didn't feel confident enough in your connection that you won't try to run away from them.

And you won't.

You've come to terms with your situation; that your soulmates need you to get better.

Though you haven't had much of a choice, you have decided that you're going to stay until the bond settles, just until they stop being so obsessive and paranoid. Maybe then you'll be able to go back to the life you had before and do everything right with them this time.

The you from six months ago would've been disgusted that you're even entertaining the thought of giving them a second chance, but you know better now. Your soulmates are sick. Perhaps with time, and a lot of therapy, they will be able to understand what they've been putting you through and try to make amends for it.

You know that the healthy thing to do would be to run away without a backward glance but you can't. Try as you might to hate it, your soul – your heart – has long since accepted them. You can't quite call it love, not with the circumstances of how those feelings came to be, but you do like them.

"It's some hours away but it's a quaint home, just big enough for the eight of us. It's on the outskirts of– the city! So it has a big garden and a lot of picturesque trails around it," Seokjin's voice cracks as he almost lets the town name slip, Namjoon elbowing his side with a low hiss.

"It's perfect for taking Yeontan on walks!" Taehyung pipes up with a grin, sneaking the whining pup at his feet a piece of sausage.

You're not surprised that the boys aren't willing to share any information about the new house and place you'll be moving to. They may not be as paranoid as they were at the beginning but that still doesn't mean that they have full faith in you just yet. But you expected that. You just need to play your cards right – stay at the house until they let their guards down and then, maybe, you'll be able to slowly lay down the foundation you need to convince them to let you go back to your home.

"That sounds lovely," You smile, glossing over Seokjin's blunder.

Needing to act as normal as possible, you once again pick up your fork and try to resume eating your dinner. The piece of chicken you shove into your mouth doesn't taste like anything, your nerves making everything bland and tough to chew. But you push through, moving around some rice on your plate as you nonchalantly say, "But what about your jobs? Jungkook's degree? I would hate for our move to affect you like that."

"You don't have to worry about that," Jimin squeezes your knee, "I'll be commuting with Seokjin hyung and Hoseok hyung. Namjoon hyung has been hired at the library in the city we're moving to and Jungkookie is going to finish the rest of the semester online."

"Taehyungie and I can work a lot from home, so we're planning on doing that. We might have to go into the office now and then, but that's no problem," Yoongi supplies. He gives you a fond look as he says, "We're hoping it'll make the transition into the new house easier for you since some of us will always be home to spend time with you."

And it'll be easier to make sure you don't do anything stupid.

"Ah, I see, that's nice," You say. "Thank you for thinking of me."

"Always," Namjoon grins sweetly, his dimples indenting his cheeks.

It might not be a lot to go off, but the fact that the majority of them are planning on commuting every day must mean that the new city can be too far away from your old one, even if you don't know exactly where it is yet. An hour, maybe a little more, if they're being extra careful. You can work with that.

Hoseok catches your gaze from across the table, his expression earnest as he says, "We want you to be able to have a normal life, Y/n. With us."

"I know our methods have been a bit..." He trails off with a small grimace, no doubt thinking about what transpired in his shop and everything that followed. You can't exactly say that Hoseok looks remorseful, none of them do, but there is a touch of shame in their faces that hasn't been present before.

"I won't apologize for what happened because that's what led us here and gave us the chance to grow closer like we were supposed to all along. But, we want to do better by you and we're going to do our best to make sure that happens."

The others voice out their agreement, nodding along to Hoseok's words.

You shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth to dampen your sigh.

You're not even sure why you feel disappointed by the fact that the boys refuse to apologize for what they did to you, you already know they don't feel bad about it. Still, perhaps the part of you that likes them was hoping for it nonetheless. Maybe it would be easier for you to accept everything that has happened if they did – if they admitted that they had hurt you and wanted to repent for it. But, you're probably going to have to wait a very long time before that day ever comes – if, it ever comes.

Swallowing your food, you try to shake off any useless thoughts. You need to focus on the future, on the fact that you'll be regaining a sliver of freedom soon.

You move one hand under the table, covering Jimin's hand with yours.

Squeezing it, you hope you don't sound too eager as you ask, "So, when do we leave?"

Two weeks.

You figured the move would happen soon, but not that quickly. The boys must have planned this for a long time, far longer than they let on, because there's no way they could have closed on a house this fast.

The day after they told you of their plans, Namjoon had already begun moving some of his books out of the cabin. Truthfully there wasn't much any of you needed to pack up, only a few random personal belongings and decor elements that had been placed here and there to make your stay a little more cozy. In the end, it all fit into three boxes placed neatly by the door.

A few days before the move, the boys spent an hour rearranging the furniture back to how it was when you had first arrived, erasing any trace of the last six months with it. It was as if no one had ever been there in the first place, as if it hadn't served as a prison for half a year.

When you first arrived you wondered if you would ever be able to leave, and now, you're about to do just that.

"Y/n."

You turn around as Yoongi calls your name, watching as he steps closer with a piece of fabric between his hands. Yoongi unfolds it under your gaze, revealing it to be a black opaque scarf.

"We're all ready to go, love, but you have to cover your eyes with this," Yoongi frowns apologetically. "We want to trust you, but for everyone's peace of mind, this is the best thing to do. It's just until we arrive at the house."

You eye the scarf for a moment, flashing Yoongi a weak smile as you say, "It's okay, I understand."

He steps closer, bringing the fabric up to your face. The material is soft, and cool, as it covers your eyes, blocking out any semblance of light. The scarf is wide enough that it covers everything from your eyebrows to the tip of your nose, removing any chance you might have had to tilt your head to peek at the outside world. You should've figured they would've been prepared for that possibility.

Yoongi's hands are careful as he ties the scarf behind your head, making sure he doesn't tangle or tug at your hair in the process. You can feel his breath against your cheek as he binds it securely, double knotting it to make sure it's not going to come undone.

"All done," Yoongi announces softly, curving one hand along the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly, just enough for his lips to brush against yours. Your eyes fall shut despite the darkness already hindering your vision, leaning forward to catch his lips in a proper kiss.

Yoongi indulges you for a few seconds before he steps back, removing his hands.

"Come back," You pout, your fingers searching blindly for his coat.

"We're going to be late, love, the others are waiting for us," You can hear the smile in Yoongi's voice as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

As if summoned, the cabin door flies open, Jungkook's voice echoing slightly in the near-empty cabin as he asks, "Are you coming, hyung? Y/n? We're all ready to go."

You let Yoongi lead you forward, your steps a little unsteady despite his promise that nothing is in your way. Jungkook grabs your other hand as you near the door, chattering excitedly about how he brought some of your favourite snacks for the trip as they both help you down the stairs.

Your heart jumps, picking up speed, as you hear the steady thrum of a car motor running. You can't believe this is actually real – you're truly leaving this place for good. You know that Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon have already left, the boys eager to get everything in order at the new house before your arrival.

You're maneuvered into the car without too much trouble, Hoseok clicking your seatbelt into place as you're placed between him and Jungkook in the backseat. You find a bag of sweets dumped into your lap the moment you're situated, Hoseok chiding Jungkook lightly for startling you. Yoongi has taken his place in the front seat, groaning loudly as Seokjin declares that as the driver; he's going to be responsible for the music and that no one is allowed to complain about his choices.

You lean back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable between Jungkook and Hoseok. Their bodies being flushed with yours in the cramped car feels grounding, the feel of their strong thighs pressed against yours being something you can easily divert your focus to with your sight momentarily blocked. Seokjin and Yoongi bicker as the car begins to pull away from the cabin, the gravel road crunching loudly under the wheels.

Finally.

Knowing there's no chance of you catching a glimpse of the surroundings on the way there, not with the blindfold so securely wrapped around your head, you slump to the side, resting your head on Hoseok's shoulder. Slender fingers wrap around yours as Hoseok takes your hand into his lap, his thumb moving soothingly across your knuckles. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to zone out and daydream about all of the possibilities ahead of you. It's not like the boys are going to magically become more trusting the moment you arrive at the new house but the move will open new doors for you – give you more opportunities to show them that they can lower their guards and trust the bond without any consequences.

They don't have to worry about you running away anymore.

The boys seem content to let you rest on the drive over to the new house, filling the silence between songs with jokes and lighthearted bickering. You easily accept the pieces of candy that are pressed to your lips at steady intervals, smiling at Jungkook and Hoseok's pleased words whenever you accept their offers. Before you know it, the car begins to slow down and you hear Seokjin exclaim, "Ah, there it is!"

The door on Hoseok's side is opened the moment the car stops, Taehyung whining loudly about how long it took you to get there. You follow their lead out of the car and inside the new house, placing one foot blindly in front of the other.

"We'll show you the outside later, babe," Taehyung promises as he steers you forward with both hands securely placed on your shoulders, "We just want to see your reaction to the inside of the house first."

Namjoon helps you slip off your shoes as you step into the house, the smell of a freshly cleaned floor hitting your nose. Taehyung urges you to walk forward a bit more before he stops you, his hands moving from your shoulders to untie the knots behind your head.

"We hope you'll like your new home, darling," Namjoon says, revealing a hint of nervousness in his tone.

You're practically bursting with anticipation as Taehyung undos the first knot, the wooden floorboards under your feet giving you the impression that this is likely an older, more traditional, house. You blink as the blindfold finally falls away, the sudden burst of light stinging your eyes.

Your lips part in surprise as your vision adjusts, taking in the space in front of you.

You're standing in the middle of a large entryway, the area opening up into a big combined living and dining room. One wall is practically filled with windows, letting lots of beautiful sunlight stream in and warm up the space. You notice a massive couch on one side of the room, the size of it definitely big enough to comfortably seat eight people at once. It's facing the built-in fireplace in the wall in front of it, a big TV hung above it. The dining room portion has a lovely intricate hardwood table with eight matching chairs pushed up against it.

You notice that one of the smaller walls has a bookcase spanning the entire width of it, already half-full with what you can only assume to be Namjoon's books. You do recognize little trinkets here and there that the boys kept at the cabin, and even a few larger plants you eyed when you visited Seokjin's shop way back then.

"I love it," You gasp, stunned at how well they've designed the living room.

It does feel cozy – home-y, even.

"I told you the couch was the right choice!" Taehyung walks into the room, grinning smugly at Jimin.

Jimin rolls his eyes, "It would've looked too out of place if it wasn't for the rug that I found to go along with it."

"There they go again," Hoseok sighs behind your back. He nudges your shoulder gently, voice low as he says, "They're going to keep doing that for a while. Why don't we go look at the kitchen in the meantime?"

"Please," You nod, excited to see if the rest of the house looks as good as the living room. You follow Hoseok's lead back to the entry and through the open door on the left, the rest of the boys trailing behind you.

"The kitchen needed an upgrade so we let Seokjin hyung and Yoongi hyung design it since they do the majority of the cooking," Hoseok scratches his neck, a little sheepish as he pauses next to the large island in the room.

The kitchen is sleek and modern, definitely newer than what you've seen of the house so far, but not out of place by any means. It just feels inviting and bright, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe cooking won't be so bad if you can do it in a kitchen like this.

"It looks great," You comment, walking around the island to marvel at some of the fancier appliances that are out on display on the counters.

"Thank you, angel," Seokjin preens. He shares a pleased look with Yoongi over your compliment, the younger man's cheeks flushed from the praise.

You catch sight of the pretty, colourful garden outside as you walk past the sink. Looking outside the window above it, you find that spring is already in full bloom here. While you had noticed a few more wildflowers around the cabin a few days before you left, it's nothing compared to the abundance of flowers and shrubs that are blossoming here.

The view makes you smile. You know your stay here isn't permanent but it does make your heart flutter to know that you're going to be spending your foreseeable future here – in a lovely house with a pretty garden – and not an old cabin in a dark forest. The boys did well by picking this house, it's the type of place you actually would like to live in.

"Y/n, let's go have a look at the downstairs bathroom and study before we move upstairs," Seokjin says, gesturing to the hallway.

You can still hear Taehyung and Jimin's heated discussion as you cross over the entry to look at the rooms on the opposite side of the house, the french double doors leading to the study winning you over immediately. Both rooms look like they've gotten a recent refresh, the new paint and tiles the boys picked out for the bathroom nicely complementing the old features of the home. The house is the perfect blend of rustic and modern.

Jungkook grabs your hand as you turn to follow Yoongi up to the second floor, excitedly dragging you up the stairs ahead of the others. He quickly explains that the second-floor houses all three bedrooms and an additional two ensuite bathrooms. Jungkook eagerly tells you about the choices they made for the bedrooms, from the color of the wall to the bedside tables to even the small light near the window that projects stars on the ceiling when it's dark out.

Yoongi takes special care to point out the wainscoting he put up in the second bedroom and he flashes you a gummy smile as you praise him for the work he's done. You drag your fingers over the soft duvet on the seemingly king-sized bed in the room, a lightbulb going off in your head as you remember that there are only three bedrooms.

"Wait, if there's only three beds, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?"

Hoseok speaks up from where he's leaning against the wall, "We're all going to share, sunshine. Some of us will have to stay overnight in the city due to our jobs every so often so that should clear up some space, but aside from that, we'll be sharing beds."

The surprise must be evident on your face, because Namjoon grimaces and quickly supplies, "We know we've been neglecting each other as soulmates. We don't feel the bond in the same way as we do with you but we are connected regardless. This... well, this is our attempt at strengthening that connection. We're trying to accept that the bond goes eight ways – not just one."

You find yourself speechless at what you've just heard. You knew that the bond was slowly mellowing them out but you never thought that it would start affecting the connection between them as well. If that part of the soulbond starts to heal then... You might be able to get back to your normal life sooner than you first dared to hope for.

"We still have one more room to look at, love," Yoongi touches your hip, nudging you towards the door. None of the boys seem to expect a response to what Namjoon just told you, understanding that the news has left you a little dumbfounded.

Taehyung and Jimin must have resolved their bickering during your tour, the two of them waiting by the door to the final room, giggling at something on Taehyung's phone. The hot and cold behaviour the boys have towards each other does give you a whiplash most days but you suppose that too might become less frequent as the bond between them finally gets the nurture it's been needing for years.

"We didn't want to complete this house without you," Yoongi explains as he pushes open the door. The last bedroom is noticeably less finished than the rest of the house, the walls a tired white and the furniture non-existent aside from another king bed. "This is your home just as much as it's ours, so we'd really like it if you want to help us design the final bedroom."

"I'd love that," You grin, eager for a project you can occupy some of your time with.

"We'll be collecting your things soon, babe," Jimin adds, "Your lease is up on your apartment and you don't need it anymore, so we'll take turns packing up everything and bringing it over next weekend."

You stare at the blank wall, heart sinking in your chest. Somehow, you had forgotten about your lease. A burst of anger you haven't felt in a while bubbles up under your skin, the urge to scream and curse at them taking over your body. But what good will it do?

In their eyes, this is your new home. The need for your apartment is now obsolete.

You breathe slowly through your nose, quelling the flames before they can burn too hot. You may lose your apartment, your home, for now, but that doesn't mean you can't make a new home somewhere else later. You'll be fine. You're sure Heejun and Jaemin will gladly let you crash on their couch until you figure something out. For now, you just have to accept the situation for what it is and play along.

You have missed your things, so it'll be nice to be able to make this house your own for however long you'll need it.

"Great, thank you," You grit.

For once, Jimin seems oblivious to your snark. He throws an arm around your shoulders, bumping his forehead against yours as he grins and says, "C'mon babe, let's go have a look at the garden. I think you're going to love it."

You throw a glance towards the window, plastering on a convincing smile as you say, "I'd like nothing more, Jiminie."

Time passes quickly in the new house once you begin to settle in.

The unfinished bedroom gets decorated to your liking, the walls repainted and the newly hung shelves display most of the little knick-knacks from your old apartment. As spring begins to bleed into summer, you take on the task of getting the already stunning garden ready for the warmer weather. You often find yourself outside with Jungkook or Yoongi, weeding around the plants or mowing the grass to make sure Yeontan has a nice, safe space to run around in. The pup loves to dig up anything that has been freshly planted, so someone must always watch him like a hawk whenever the soil has been recently turned. You've already lost a bed of beautiful purple hyacinths once and you don't want to make that mistake again (even if the picture of Yeontan napping in a pile of flowers was a little cute).

Truly, it's all too easy to fall into a new routine and it doesn't take long before you know the boys' schedules by heart. Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok are away the most since the nature of their jobs doesn't allow them to work from home. Seokjin and Hoseok have hired more helpers to be able to spend the full weekend at home, in addition to a day or two here and there when they work on the administrative side of their businesses. Jimin, however, doesn't have that option. He often spends three days at the time in the city, his shifts too long and tiring for him to be able to make the drive back and forth every day.

You miss him whenever he's away and it's becoming quite obvious that the others do too. Jungkook and Taehyung in particular often mope around the house when Jimin is working his shifts, lamenting about how unfair it is that he has to stay there for days all by himself. Even if you're a little surprised at how quickly the bond has grown between the boys, you do admittedly find it awfully sweet to see them puppy-piling whoever has been gone for a day or more whenever they return to the house. Though, you always grow a little wary when Jimin comes back, as the days apart usually leave him a little more hungry for mischief than usual.

You can already tell that Jimin is up to something the moment he steps into the house, his eyes sparkling with interest despite his tired complexion. Your suspicion wavers slightly during dinner with Hoseok and Seokjin, as Jimin keeps yawning between bites and resting his head heavily against your arm the moment he's done eating. He stays glued to your back as you all shuffle into the living room after, hugging you tight to his chest as he settles down on the couch. He only hums in agreement when Seokjin proposes a few rounds of Mario Kart, letting out a tired sigh as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch them.

Jimin has one hand tucked under your sweatshirt, petting over the bare skin on your waist while he nuzzles his face against your neck. The gestures are innocent and sleepy, and you find your guard lowering with every round Hoseok and Seokjin play.

You snort as Hoseok gets hit with a blue shell just as he's about to cross the finish line, Seokjin letting out a whop as he races past him.

"You're such a cheater!" Hoseok huffs, glaring at the teasing dance Seokjin does to celebrate his fifth win in a row.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Hobi, but you're just not as good as I am," Seokjin grins. "I never lose once I set my mind to something, you know that."

"You're too full of yourself, hyung," Hoseok shakes his head as he gives Seokjin's shoulder a light shove.

"And you're a sore loser," Seokjin quips, laughing as he gets pushed to the ground. He swats Hoseok's hands away as he tries to wrestle with him, his squeaky laughter filling the room as Hoseok grumbles out his protests.

The hand on your waist suddenly stills just as Seokjin's laughter lulls. The mischief is back in Jimin's voice as it brushes against your neck, his tone taunting as he says, "Maybe it's time you brought Seokjin hyung down a peg, huh, Hoseok hyung?"

You hold your breath as Hoseok and Seokjin both freeze, their heads slowly turning to face the couch.

"What are you talking about, Jimin?" Seokjin, never one to entertain Jimin's antics for too long, purses his lips as he stares him down.

"You do win almost every game we play, hyung, that's true, but you've also played more video games than all of us combined. Maybe if you and Hoseok hyung played a game that was more.. level to your experiences, it would be more fair?" Jimin proposes.

"What kind of game are we talking about here?" Hoseok asks. You can tell his curiosity is winning out over his usual disdain for Jimin's 'games', his eyes tracking Jimin as the younger brings one hand up to your jaw, turning your head to the side.

You let out a stuttered breath as you meet Jimin's hungry gaze, his glossy lips twisting into a smirk as he looks you dead in the eyes and says, "How about a competition to see who can fuck our baby better?"

You hear Seokjin sputter on the floor as Hoseok lets out a pained groan.

"Hyung! You almost kneed me in the balls! Are you seriously still trying to cheat?"

"I'm not– I'm surprised!" Seokjin retorts with a squeak, "I didn't think that little devil would joke around with something like that!"

"I'm not joking though," Jimin hums as he strokes his thumb along your jaw. "Wouldn't it be interesting to see who would win – who Y/n would crown the best?"

Jimin's gaze leaves yours for a second as it glides down to his hyungs on the floor, the corner of his mouth quirking into a mocking smile as he says, "Or maybe you're just too scared to find out who she prefers? I guess it might be better for you to give up now Hobi hyung, if you're not confident that you can beat Seokjin hyung."

Your lips part in surprise as you realize that Jimin is serious about his proposal, that he's trying to goad them into competing. It's a low blow and an obvious one too, but you don't think Hoseok and Seokjin care – not when Jimin is openly questioning their ability to pleasure you.

Seeing Hoseok's brows furrow in thought, Jimin returns his attention to you. He leans forward to slot your mouths together, taking advantage of the access you've given him as he pulls you into a deep kiss. His tongue dips past your lips right away, curling around your own as he holds you still. You can't help the moan that tumbles out as Jimin ravages your mouth, the sounds wet and filthy as he kisses you passionately.

You slump into Jimin's arms, letting him take full control of the kiss. It's only when you start to turn lightheaded that you turn your head away, gasping for air as Jimin moves his mouth to your jaw. You glance with hooded eyes down at the floor as you attempt to catch your breath, your stomach doing a flip as you notice how affected Hoseok and Seokjin seem. They're both turned on by the little show Jimin put on for them, their bulges prominent and straining against their pants.

The tension in the room is palpable. Seokjin and Hoseok look like they're teetering on the edge between hesitance and hunger – both wanting what Jimin is proposing, but still holding themselves back from accepting it.

You know Jimin can sense it by the way he makes you moan as he sucks your skin between his teeth, leaving his mark on your delicate throat. He lets out a low chuckle at the sharp intake of breath he hears from Seokjin.

"If the two of you aren't going to pleasure Y/n then you better say your goodnights now. I'll make sure to fuck her twice as good as either of you ever could. Hmm.. Do you think she'll even remember your names once I'm done?" He purrs against your neck, kissing his way back up to your lips.

"What do you think, baby? Should the two of us go upstairs, or do you want to see what the hyungs can do to you?"

While you don't particularly agree with Jimin's methods, you can't deny the fact that you have been curious about when Seokjin and Hoseok were going to get intimate with you. You've had countless make-out sessions with each of them, heavy petting involved, but it's never gone beyond that. The boys have been giving you some space to settle in properly and get your bearings in the new house but you've reached the point where you're honestly a little desperate to be touched. You want them to fuck you. And for all of Jimin's schemes, even you can agree that this one sounds fun – hot, even.

"I–" You shudder at the way Jimin presses his thumb against the bruise he left, eyes fluttering closed as you shyly admit, "I wouldn't m-mind, but I don't want to pressure them–"

"Fuck," Hoseok curses, pushing himself to his feet, "Whatever, I'm in."

He sends a sharp look down at Seokjin, "You better not chicken out."

"Yeah, hyung," Jimin chimes in, "Are you forfeiting your chance to finally fuck Y/n? Who knows when you'll be able to do it later when she has five other soulmates who already know her body so well."

Seokjin's jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it's going to break, his expression stormy as his eyes jump from person to person. His gaze lingers on you for longer, drinks in how affected you look after just a little kissing, how eager you seem to finally have your final two soulmates at your mercy. Even if he imagined your first time together to be a little more romantic and with a lot less Jimin, Seokjin can't deny that it's exciting to be able to prove himself as the best lover out of the group.

"I'm not forfeiting anything," Seokjin huffs, standing up to join Hoseok. "I'll win this fair and square. Just don't be too sad when Angel picks me as the best lover, yeah?"

Hoseok doesn't deign Seokjin with an answer, his sights already set on you. He brushes past his hyung with long strides, scooping you out of Jimin's arms and into his own. Hoseok rounds the coffee table to place you down on the other side, creating some space between you and the others, drawing a line he doesn't want anyone to cross.

You lean back against the table as he squats down in front of you, watching him with wide eyes as he reaches out to trace your bottom lip with one of his fingers.

"Sunshine, don't you think you're being too much of a tease?"

Hoseok's gaze hardens as you inadvertently swipe your tongue along the line he just traced, your lip tingling from his touch. You feel the back of your neck flush as you realize what you just did, feeling bashful as you drop your gaze down to the floor.

The denial sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can't make yourself utter the words. Jimin is the one who was teasing them, firing them up, but you didn't exactly stop him either, did you? You're not ashamed to admit that you've been wanting Hoseok and Seokjin for a while now, and Jimin has practically served them up on a silver platter for you.

"I–" You swallow thickly as you glance up and meet Hoseok's dark gaze, "I'm sorry?"

Hoseok's mouth quirks, "I don't think you are, Y/n."

Heat pools low in your stomach at Hoseok's astute observation, your thighs clenching helplessly under his sharp gaze.

"You deserve a little punishment for that, sunshine, don't you agree?" He hums.

The last time you were 'punished' was humiliating and not something you had agreed to at all. But this time, you're given the option to deny him, to walk away if you so wish. Despite everything they've done, you know they don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do.

Truthfully, it does make you a little nervous to give Hoseok full control, but the soulbond will never settle until you show him that you're willing to put your full trust in him.

"Yes," You weakly agree, embarrassed, knowing that he's looking for a verbal answer.

Hoseok gives a pleased smile at your compliance, his fiery exterior cracking momentarily until he reins himself back in.

"Good. Get on your hands and knees, Y/n, you're allowed to use the table for support if you need it."

The flush on the back of your neck spreads up to your face as you do as you're told. You turn around, crawling forward on your hands and knees until you're upper body is resting on the coffee table, the position naturally pushing your bottom out. You suck your lip between your teeth as you look ahead to find Jimin cupping himself above his pants, his smile wicked. Seokjin has made his way onto the same couch, his usually sweet face all stoic and difficult to read as he watches you and Hoseok. His hands are digging into his jeans, resisting the urge to touch himself and follow in Jimin's footsteps.

You lower your head as Hoseok positions himself behind you, his hands landing on the swell of your ass. He places a hand on each cheek, letting out a low groan as he kneads the flesh.

"I think ten should do it for your punishment this time, sunshine," Hoseok says, warming up the area by alternating between squeezing and rubbing his palms in circles over your cheeks.

"Okay," You say, your belly swooping with nervous anticipation.

"Hoseok," Seokjin hisses, a warning that gets shushed by Jimin.

For a moment, too wrapped up in Hoseok's dominating aura, you had forgotten that they would all feel your punishment. Just like they did back then in the cabin.

Before you can change your mind though, Jimin adds a decisive, "If our baby can handle it, then you can handle it too, hyung."

Seokjin sighs, clearly not willing to put up the fight. "Fine."

Both of Hoseok's hands fall away at that, leaving you exposed to receive your punishment. Hoseok's shirt rustles as he raises his hand and it's the only warning you get before his palm lands heavy on your ass, the impact knocking your breath out of your lungs. The next six spanks come in quick succession, each harder than the last. It's only a small mercy that your skin is still covered, the sting still intense despite the slight padding between you and Hoseok's palm. The noises you've been trying so hard to suppress tumble out at the seventh blow, a strangled gasp passing through your lips as he makes contact.

"Good girl," Hoseok praises, pausing his hits to allow you a moment to regain your breath. He tuts as you try to pull away from the fingers stroking over your smarting cheeks. "Don't make me add more, Y/n. Take the rest of your punishment properly and I promise I'll reward you."

You take a few deep breaths, nodding to let Hoseok know that you'll behave.

The final three slaps are so forceful you're sure you're going to bruise, your body jolting forward over the table as the smacks rain down on your ass. You cry out at the last one, the sound caught between a moan and a whimper as your heart pounds in your chest.

"Fuck, that's hot," Jimin curses, palming himself harder. "Stings like a bitch, though," He whines under his breath.

Hoseok goes back to massaging your cheeks, soothing the hurt down to a more manageable level. His fingers drift up to the waistband of your sweats, hooking into the fabric before he pauses and asks, "Are you ready for your reward now, sunshine?"

"Please," You whimper.

You lift your knees to help Hoseok pull your sweats and underwear off all in one go, legs shaking as you barely manage to raise yourself enough from the table to remove your shirt after.

"Look at you," Hoseok murmurs, gliding his fingers all over your exposed skin. He follows the curve of your spine, only stopping briefly to thumb across your burning cheeks before he drags his hands down your calves. Your breath hitches as he suddenly spreads your legs.

You're mortified to discover that Hoseok's punishment has made you wet, dripping, without you noticing it, your cunt clenching helplessly under Hoseok's burning gaze. "So pretty."

You gasp as Hoseok drags a finger through your slit, rubbing and spreading the wetness all over your cunt. He stills near your entrance, teasing you by barely dipping his finger in before he slides it back up to your clit. The slow rubs around your nub cause your thighs to shake, your senses overwhelmed as he repeats the motion over and over.

"Hoseok, please," You whimper, pushing your hips against his finger as he teasingly tries to dip it in again, the movement swallowing him up to the second knuckle.

"Are you being impatient, Y/n?"

Hoseok pushes his finger deeper, feeling along your walls before he pulls out to add another one, the slide in easy with how turned on you are. It feels good to finally have something filling you up, your cunt clenching desperately around his digits whenever he goes to pull out.

"I'll let it slide just this once, sunshine. It seems your cunt is hungry for something more."

The next thrust of his fingers is harder, slightly curled, and you let out a loud moan as he bumps directly against your sweet spot. Two fingers turn to three, stretching your walls out in preparation for Hoseok's cock. You keep mindlessly moving your hips back, meeting every thrust of his fingers in hopes that you'll take him deeper, feel fuller. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter and tighter, desperate for that final burst of pleasure to tip you over the scale.

"Wait–" You gasp, throwing a look over your shoulder as Hoseok removes his fingers, your cunt empty and aching with nothing in it.

"Don't worry," Hoseok presses himself flush with your back, his lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm giving you what you want. Your sweet little pussy just needs a hard cock to fuck it good, hmm?"

He rolls his hips against yours, the hardness in his jeans unmistakable. You let out a low keen, breathless as you admit, "Yes, yes, I need it."

"You'll get it, sunshine," Hoseok presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulders as he works his pants down his hips, his hard cock springing up against his stomach as he frees it from his boxers. Hoseok groans as he wraps one hand around himself, thumbing at his slit to spread the pre-come with a few quick pumps up and down his length.

You both let out a moan as Hoseok rubs the head of his cock through your folds, making it even wetter. He positions himself at your opening, one hand gripping your waist as he pushes inside. Your walls open easily, practically sucking in half of his cock in one go. With how relaxed and eager you are, it only takes one firm thrust from Hoseok to bury the rest of him inside of you.

"Oh gods," You groan, your fingers scrambling over the waxed tabletop for support as you desperately clamp down around his cock.

"Are you ready, Y/n?" Hoseok places both hands on your waist, holding you still. He draws his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside your cunt, teasing. You feel him twitch as you clench around him, his usually composed voice wavering just the slightest as he says, "I'll give you everything you need, you just have to ask."

Your pride is already long gone, vanished into thin air at the first touch of Hoseok's skilled fingers. You're not above begging, not if it'll finally sate the arousal licking up the inside of your stomach.

"Please fuck me, Hobi," You whine.

The grip on your waist tightens, Hoseok's fingers digging into your flesh as he finally gets to hear the words he's only been dreaming about for so long. His eyes are dark are he stares down at your body, as he memorizes the way your cunt clings to his cock, aching to be filled. Not even the loud groan coming from the couch is enough to tear his gaze away, not when he has such a perfect vision right in front of him.

"As you wish, my sunshine."

You have no way of preparing yourself for the way Hoseok snaps his hips forward, slamming into your cunt so hard it makes your back arch. Your arms give out under the brutal pace he sets, your hands fruitlessly gliding across the table for something to hold on to as he punches his cock in with every deep thrust. It's only the tight grip Hoseok has on your hips that keeps you from sliding across the surface.

Your head feels like it's filled with static, no thoughts forming beyond more, please, more, as Hoseok moves in and out of you. The harsh noise of Hoseok's skin slapping against yours causes another gush of arousal to wet your cunt, making it sound absolutely sloppy as he delivers another hard thrust, your slick squelching around his cock.

"Fuck– Fucking hell, Y/n," Hoseok growls, the sound spurring him on as he lowers his thighs to snap his hips even faster, "Are you that desperate for cock, baby?"

Your next moan is torn from your throat as the new angle causes Hoseok's cock to bump straight into your sweet spot, the unrelenting hammering of his length making you see stars. You can't even close your mouth properly to stop the drool that slides past your lips, your whole body numb with pleasure.

Hoseok grunts as your walls flutter around him, his gaze flickering from the dazed expression on your face to the couch. He smirks as he sees Jimin with his hand around his cock, the younger's half-lidded eyes watching your fucked out expression intently as he strokes his length. Seokjin has finally caved too, palming himself slowly over his underwear, jeans discharged to the side.

Hoseok grins as he meets Seokjin's narrowed eyes, his thrusts slowing down in favor of grinding his hips in deep, slow circles. One of his hands slides from your waist to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull your head up. It leaves you staring straight at Seokjin and Jimin, moans and whimpers falling freely from your parted mouth as Hoseok pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Hoseok pats your side, voice a little mean as he says, "Did you already forget about our competition, Y/n? I need you to look at hyung while I fuck you and let him know that he won't be able to get the same pretty sounds out of you as I am."

"Can you do that, sunshine?"

You shudder as he tugs on your hair, the faint sting traveling straight down to your cunt.

"Y-yes," You gasp, getting your hands under your just enough to raise your head on your own, holding the position Hoseok has left you in.

His fingers drift back down to your waist, ghosting over the skin there before he slips between your legs, grazing over your clit. The contact makes you jolt, and you both moan as it drives his cock deeper into your cunt.

"That's right, it's time for your reward, baby."

He starts rubbing circles against your clit as his thrusts once again turn sharper, quicker. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to keep holding Seokjin's burning gaze as you're pounded into the table. Being watched so openly, so attentively, only turns you on more. Your whole body is shaking, muscles pulled tight, as the wave of pleasure in your belly begins to crest. You know there's no way you can hold back, not with how determined Hoseok is to make you explode. You're bringing Hoseok there right along with you though, your cunt clenching so sweetly around his cock that he knows he's not going to last very long.

It's a particularly deep thrust combined with Hoseok rolling your clit between his fingers that finally sends you over the edge. You cry out as you reach your climax, trembling as your release washes over you. Hoseok groans as your walls clamp down around him with a vice grip, his hips glued to yours as he grinds once, twice, before stiffening as his orgasm hits. You moan weakly as you feel his come spurt into your cunt, flooding it with warmth.

You're not quite sure when your eyes slipped shut, but when you open them, you find Seokjin practically looming over you from the couch, jaw clenched. He must've pulled his cock out at some point, the length flushed red from the slow, unsatisfying drag of his fingers. You whimper as Hoseok presses a tender kiss to the back of your neck, Seokjin darkly watching the action like he's one second away from throwing Hoseok to the side to take his place.

"You're amazing, Y/n," Hoseok says, massaging your sides as he slowly shuffles back and slips out of you.

You let your head drop to the table, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Hoseok keeps rubbing your back until your limbs stop shaking and you feel a little more like yourself.

"Angel," Seokjin calls from the couch, "Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop if you're tired."

You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you take in the sight of Seokjin's hand wrapped around his hard cock, squeezing the base to keep his release from building without you. It twitches under your attention, another pearl of pre-come dripping out of the tip to slick up his length even more, coating his flushed skin.

"I'm sure," You nod, glancing up at him through your lashes as you say, "Need you."

"Fuck, alright," Seokjin curses, gripping his cock even tighter. "Come here then, angel, and you'll get what you want."

The simmering heat in your belly roars back to life at Seokjin's words. You carefully push yourself up until you're standing on your feet, Hoseok's hands curled around your arms for support. You can feel Hoseok's come shift in your belly as take a step forward, whining as a bit drips out of your cunt and trails down to your thigh.

Hoseok tsks. "You better keep all of that inside, sunshine. Don't waste another drop."

You clench your walls tight, stumbling awkwardly over to the couch as you try to heed Hoseok's warning. Seokjin has already rid himself of his clothes by the time you reach him, his strong hands pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.

"Hi, angel," Seokjin smiles, cupping your face to run his thumb across your cheek. He winds the other around your middle, holding you close to his chest.

You practically melt into Seokjin's gentle embrace, nuzzling into his warm hand, "Hi yourself."

Seokjin pulls you down to connect your lips with his, the softness of the first few pecks quickly turning more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You bring your hands behind his neck, gliding your fingers through the soft hair there to tug him closer. The way Seokjin kisses you, hungry yet tender at the same time, leaves your head spinning. He swallows up the moan you let out, tongue twirling around yours as he uses his grip on your waist to grind you against his cock.

You gasp at the first contact, at the feel of his hard cock slipping through your folds, bumping against your clit. You clench helplessly as Hoseok's come begins to leak out of your hole, your walls too stretched to hold it in. The spread of your legs makes it even harder, and the grind of Seokjin's length just arouses you more, making your cunt flutter with the need of being full again. You scrape your teeth along Seokjin's plush lips, whining as you say, "I-I can't–"

His mouth pauses against yours as he feels something wet drip onto his thigh, understanding dawning on him as he feels your skin heat up with embarrassment. Seokjin removes his hand from your cheek in favor of bringing it down to your dripping cunt, scooping up the come clinging to your cunt before he fingers it back into you.

"So messy," He murmurs, mouthing along your jaw as he adds another finger, pumping them slowly back and forth, pushing all of it deeper inside your pussy. The wet sucking sound of your cunt eagerly accepting it all back in makes you moan, eyes slipping shut as you hide your face in Seokjin's neck.

He lets out a low chuckle at your shyness, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. You mewl into Seokjin's neck as he guides his cock into you steadily, the hand on your waist slowly bringing you down until you're fully seated on his length. You can feel it throbbing deep in your guts, your breaths shaky as you adjust to him.

"Gods, you feel so good," Seokjin moans as your wet, warm walls welcome him in, your and Hoseok's release slicking his cock. He moves both of his hands to your hips, gently rubbing the red marks Hoseok left there.

You lightly raise yourself up before you sink back down, getting yourself used to the position and Seokjin's cock. You move your hands to his shoulders, setting a slow pace that gradually picks up as Seokjin's hands begin to roam. Your hips stutter as he reaches up to cup one of your breasts, flicking your nipple teasingly before he rolls it between his fingers, tugging on it in a way that makes your cunt vibrate with pleasure. He moans at the response he gets, his dark eyes drinking you in.

"Love your breasts," Seokjin groans, leaning forward to take it into his mouth, "You shouldn't keep them covered up, angel."

"Seokjin, fuck," You dig your nails into his back as he closes his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your next drop down on Seokjin's cock is a little harsher than before, a choked moan leaving you as your pleasure once again begins to build. Seokjin gives your other breast the same treatment, steadily rocking his hips up to meet yours as you ride him.

He gives your nipple another swipe of his tongue before he kisses his way back up to your neck, biting down in a way you know is going to bruise. He wets the skin to soothe it, repeating the motion all over your throat as you reward him with pretty, breathy whimpers. You eventually grow restless and duck down to capture his mouth, the kisses filthy and messy as you keep rolling your hips.

"Pretty," Seokjin moans between kisses, "You're so pretty, Y/n. Absolutely amazing."

It's only when your thighs start shaking, burning with tiredness, that Seokjin takes over. His large hands grasp your ass, keeping a tight grip on your cheeks as he raises his knees to fuck into you. Seokjin picks up the pace from where you left off, his hands moving your body down to meet every thrust, impaling you on his cock with every stroke. He grunts as you clench down around him when he reaches particularly deep, brushing over your sweet spot.

You slump against Seokjin's chest as he truly begins to lose his restraint, moaning against his skin as he pounds into you. The sting of your red cheeks slapping against Seokjin's hard thighs with every thrust just makes the fire in your stomach roar, the pleasure pain of it getting you to the finish line faster.

You try to meet his thrust the best you can but the way Seokjin reaches so deep into your belly leaves you feeling a little dumbstruck, floaty. It's like your muscles have turned to jelly.

Your cunt sounds sloppy as Seokjin hammers into you, fucking you so hard you swear you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach. Moans and whines fall freely from your lips, Seokjin's name gasped out with every thrust. Your oldest soulmate is feeling more competitive than he first let on and for a half second, you worry he might actually fuck you stupid in his quest to make you come harder than Hoseok could.

You can feel him tensing up more with every thrust, as close to exploding as you are, the sounds of your skin slapping together echoing through the room. You don't want to come too soon, not without letting Seokjin finish too, but his next words do you in.

"You can let go now, angel," Seokjin half groans, half murmurs between one stroke and the next, "It's time to fill your pretty pussy to the brim – to stuff you full just like you wanted."

You cunt spasms the moment you get permission to come, your walls hugging Seokjin's cock so firmly he can barely move his hips as your release hits you like a freight train. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Seokjin grinds you down against his cock, your clit rubbing over his toned stomach. Your moans are unintelligible, slurred, as Seokjin keeps up his pace for another dozen thrusts. It prolongs your orgasm, your toes curling as Seokjin finally hits his own high.

His loud moan sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your cunt massaging his length as he spills into it with hot spurts. Your arms are shaking like a leaf as you push yourself up, just enough to look at Seokjin's face.

He's a sight to behold with his head thrown back, his flushed chest rising and falling with every hard breath. His hair is messy from you tugging on it, his skin glowing with the sheen of sweat that has settled on you both. He looks beautiful.

You clumsily kiss his swollen lips, your body still too fucked out to work properly.

Seokjin opens his eyes slowly, grinning as he says, "There's my pretty girl."

"Are you feeling okay?" He winds his arms around your back, plastering you against his racing heart.

You open and close your mouth a few times, feeling dehydrated and exhausted, the words just a little too far out of your reach.

You blink as Jimin suddenly pops into view, his smile bordering on feral as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "Oh, our poor baby is completely cock drunk," He coos.

You whine out a protest, too tired to engage in Jimin's teasing. He's also not... entirely wrong.

"Thank you for the show, baby, you looked so fucking good," Jimin groans, adjusting himself in his sweats. He must have come while Seokjin was fucking you, too excited by the view in front of him to keep up with his comments. One of Seokjin's moans had sounded a little airer than normal, so you can only conclude that it was Jimin, hitting his own release while you were chasing yours.

"It's a shame you're on birth control, otherwise the hyungs would've bred you so well," He pouts, his eyes shining with something wicked at the reaction it causes.

You can't help but clench down around Seokjin, the dirty talk hot despite you not being close to ready to have kids.

"Jimin," Seokjin warns, his cock twitching with interest inside your warm cunt.

Even Hoseok lets out a pained groan from where he's perched on a nearby chair, his cock half-hard in his jeans.

"Fine," Jimin huffs. He brushes his lips against yours, tone sweet as he asks, "Well then, baby, who won the competition? Which hyung fucked you the best?"

You watch Hoseok tense up just as Seokjin's arms tighten around you, both anxious to know the result. You share a sly look with Jimin – one that makes him chuckle and shake his head – before you turn your face into Seokjin's neck, hiding your smile as you say, "Mhm.. It's a tie."

"What do you think?"

You smack your lips together, savoring the slightly tangy sauce. Yoongi watches you carefully, the spoon still hovering near your lips.

"It's good!" You grin, "I think it's perfect."

Yoongi's smile turns into a pout as he glances down at the spoon, "Ah, but now I can't taste it. Hyung would kill me if I double-dipped."

"Can't you just grab–"

Your words are cut off by Yoongi's lips, a sweet kiss being pressed against your mouth. He lightly sucks your bottom lip between his own, his tongue just barely dipping into your mouth. He flashes you a gummy smile as he pulls back, nodding in satisfaction, "You're right, it is perfect."

"Hey!" You whine, lightly hitting his shoulder, "You totally set me up."

Your heart flutters as Yoongi leans in again, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he says, "Maybe."

He steals another kiss before he turns back to the simmering pot in front of him, the spoon abandoned in the sink. You huff, stepping up behind him to rest your head against his back, your arms wrapping around his middle. Yoongi always smells like forest and warmth, something pleasant you just want to lie down and sleep in.

Yoongi hums a low tune as you stand there, basking in the warmth of his body and the promise of a tasty lunch. He places one hand on top of yours, petting your skin, as he slowly stirs the pot with the other.

"Hyung, I'm hungry!"

You open your eyes to find Taehyung walking into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach with a pout. He brightens up as he sees you, the magazines in his hand thrown to the counter as he quickly rounds it to attach himself to your back.

"Babe, I thought you were still in bed," Taehyung whines against your neck.

"Got hungry," You giggle. You lean more of your weight onto Yoongi, laughing as he complains about having two clingy brats as soulmates. You can see the fond smile on his face as you peek over his shoulder, the way he easily braces his feet to accept the two bodies practically lying on top of him.

"Oh right! How long until the food is ready, hyung? I'm starving," Taehyung sighs dramatically. "My client is a fucking ass, he went almost an hour over time in our meeting complaining about things I can't even fix. It's not my fault his secretary is useless."

"I'm sorry, Tae. Can't you drop him if he's being too unreasonable?" You ask.

Taehyung grumbles against your neck, his body tight with tension, "I wish. He brings too much money to the company to even consider ending the contract with him. He knows he can act like an ass and get away with it because he's practically paying us to babysit him."

Yoongi lets out an annoyed snort, shaking his head as he says, "I hate to say it, but he's not going to be the only shitty client you're going to have to deal with. It comes with the job."

"I know, hyung," Taehyung sighs. "But you know what's not shitty? Your cooking! And having some of your food would definitely brighten me up."

"Brat," Yoongi chuckles. "It'll be done in five minutes, you can go grab some plates while it finishes cooking."

Taehyung gives the back of your head a loud smooch before he skips over to one of the cupboards, doing as Yoongi instructed.

You finally detach yourself from Yoongi's back, smiling at Taehyung's antics as you glance over at the magazines he dropped off earlier. You reach out to shuffle through them, none of them particularly piquing your interest until you catch sight of a flyer tucked between two pages.

You carefully pull it out, excitement thrumming through your body as you realize it's for a flower parade. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the town name, knowing it's a city that's only about an hour away from your old one. You're not sure if the house is within its limit or if it's just a neighboring one, but it does finally give you an idea of where you are. You quickly glance up at Taehyung and Yoongi, deliberately placing your thumb over the name as you notice that neither of them has seen you with it yet.

"What's this?" You softly clear your throat, grabbing Yoongi's attention as you show it to him.

You see Yoongi's shoulders rise, his eyes frantically scanning the flyer until he sees your thumb. He motions for the paper, angling it away from you once it's in his hands, making sure the town name can't be seen.

"Ah, this," He gives you a slightly uneasy smile, "It's an annual flower parade they do in the town over to celebrate the beginning of summer. It says it's supposed to happen next weekend."

You keep your expression schooled, tucking away that new piece of information into the back of your mind.

"That sounds like fun! Do you think we could go?" You ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "I would love to see it."

You're beginning to border on frantic for a change of scenery, for something that isn't just the four walls of this house. The garden does help and you have been allowed on a few walks around the neighbourhood, but it isn't enough. You will go stir crazy at some point or another if they keep you cooped up here forever.

"What flower parade?" Taehyung walks over to Yoongi, peering down at the flyer. You cheer inwardly as Taehyung's smile broadens to a grin, a pleading expression taking over his face as he says, "Hyung, that looks like so much fun. We should all go watch it!"

You know that Taehyung has a penchant for flowers, that he loves them almost as much as Seokjin does. After all, there's a reason you always received them along with your letters.

"I don't know," Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, eyeing the flyer nervously.

"Hyung," Taehyung whines, "pleaseeee. You know I love stuff like this."

"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" You propose, knowing you need to calm Yoongi's worried thoughts before he settles on a firm no.

"We'll only do it if everyone wants to go. I would love to experience it with you guys though–" You muster up a soft smile, your heart squeezing painfully at the truth as you say, "I've always wanted to do something like that with my soulmate. It seems really romantic."

Yoongi's gaze is unreadable as he stares down at the flyer. You're almost holding your breath by the time his shoulders finally sag, his voice defeated as he murmurs, "Sure, if that's something you want, we'll discuss it later."

You giggle behind your hand as Taehyung tackles Yoongi into a hug, your heart racing in your chest. As long as you play your cards right, you might finally get that taste of freedom you've been wanting for so long. Luckily for you, after almost eight months trapped together with your soulmates, you know just what buttons to push to sway the boys to your will.

It only takes some begging and a little sweet talk to win the rest of the boys over. Their unease and suspicion quickly melt away as you murmur sweetly about how romantic you find the event – and that while you are nervous about the crowds (a lie), you wouldn't mind it as long as they stick close to you. Taehyung and Seokjin's enthusiasm for it works in your favor too, as Seokjin's bubbling excitement over finally getting to experience the flower parade erases the last of Yoongi's anxieties.

The week leading up to the parade passes syrupy slow, the days dragging on as if they're mocking you. You're a bundle of nerves by the time you're driving into the city, squirming in your seat as you get closer and closer to your goal. If everything goes well during the parade, you'll be one step closer to earning their full trust – to them letting you go.

The blindfold around your head comes off the moment the car passes by the town sign, the boys still taking whatever precautions they can to limit your knowledge about where you are. You already know, of course, but you have no intention of letting that slip. It's better if they think that you don't.

"Here we are, darling," Namjoon offers you his hand as he opens the door for you. His grip is iron-tight as you intertwine your fingers, clearly on edge as you step out to join the rest of the group.

There's an air of tension wrapped around them all as they flock around you, one that doesn't dissipate even when they flank you at all sides as you walk further into town. Jimin has claimed the other side of your body, wrapping one of his arms snuggly around your waist, anchoring you to him. Nervous.

Hoseok and Jungkook keep throwing glances over their shoulders as they walk in front of you, making sure you're still there whenever you go quiet for more than a few seconds. You can practically feel Taehyung and Seokjin breathing down your neck, their steps matching yours perfectly as they hold up the back. Yoongi keeps drifting back and forth like he can't quite decide where he should be to best ensure your safety.

It should be suffocating but their behavior is simply pushed to the back of your mind, unimportant, when you finally lay eyes on actual people, strangers, crossing the street in front of you. A lump forms in the back of your throat as you watch a group of friends spill out of a nearby shop, their laughter echoing in your ears long after they've passed you by.

The town is loud and bustling, music seeping out from every building you pass by. They've embraced the parade to the fullest, decorating the pathways with beautiful florals hanging from every lamp post and flower archways adorning some of the more expensive shops. It's like you've stepped into an explosion of colour as you reach the main street, no stone left undecorated and flowers clinging to every possible surface. The people milling about are just as colourful, the majority of them wearing bright, fun clothing, their faces painted with different patterns and artistic renditions of florals. You've heard talk of this parade before but you had no idea it was this big of a deal, that the townspeople take such pride in the event.

"I think there's an available spot over there!" Jungkook points to somewhere in the middle of the street, leading the group over to the area he saw. It's just big enough for all of you to squeeze into, leaving you almost first in line on the sidewalk to watch the parade.

You've barely planted your feet on the ground when you hear a couple occupy the spot behind you, the rest of the sidewalk filling up quickly as the start of the event draws near.

You look around, taking in the sights around you, your senses a little overwhelmed with the colours and noise after so many months of nothing but your soulmates for company. Your heart is picking up speed, matching the sound of distant drums as your gaze glides from couple to couple, their bright expressions and relaxed postures nothing like the love you know.

The couples across the street hold their lover's hand gently, arms resting loosely around their shoulders to provide a safe bubble against the crowds around them. They lean into each other's bodies for comfort, to bear the ache of standing on their feet for a long time.

Your lovers hold your hand with bruising grips, arms wound around your body like snakes, constricting you tighter and tighter with every breath. There's no comfort in their embrace, not when they cling to you with desperation – like they'd bury themselves under your skin if they only could.

You swallow thickly, your palm going clammy in Namjoon's tight hold.

"You okay, darling?" Namjoon asks, leaning down to make sure you hear him over the crowd.

"I'm fine," You lie, offering him a faint smile, "It's just a lot of people."

"Let me know the moment it becomes too much and we'll leave," Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a worried look. He doesn't turn away until you reassure him that you're okay, your mouth dry with the untruths that keep spilling from it.

You can feel the sun beating down your neck, pearls of sweat forming along your back, sending shivers down your spine as they race down it. Seokjin, now in front of you, is taking pictures, capturing every little detail of the flower arrangements and different colourful species that have been grouped together along the street. The shutter of his camera sounds like bullets firing through the air, quickening your pulse with every snap.

"There it is!" Taehyung grins, pointing down the street.

Your vision feels like it's swimming as you turn your head to look, the drums so loud they force your heart to skip to the beat, sending it into a frenzy. You stare in a daze as people dance and cheer as they walk past you, flower petals raining down as they throw handfuls out of the baskets they're carrying. A float pauses in front of you, the florals an organized mess of every colour you can imagine. There's a particular arrangement you can't look away from, one that fills your stomach with dread.

It's them.

The tower in the middle of the float is made up of red, pink, purple, blue, green, yellow, and orange flowers, the same kaleidoscope of colors that have been haunting you for the past years.

It's like a punch to the gut, reality suddenly snapping back into place. The cheers around you turn muffled, your mind reeling with the possibilities you've been suppressing for so long.

Your mind flashes back to the police station you saw as you drove into town.

This city must be far enough away from your old one that Jimin won't have any connections here. The chances are slim that there are any officers here that are enamored with him, that worship him, like they do where he currently works. They might have heard of him and how he saved Jungkook, but you doubt they would dismiss your case just based on his reputation. Jimin might have already been talking to the officers in your new town, just in case you try something stupid, so this – this might be your only chance at getting real help.

Heejun and Jaemin will for sure corroborate your story, and if the officers are quick, they should be able to secure the needed evidence. You know exactly where your old letters and gifts are stored in the attic. Hell, some of them are even displayed around the house. It shouldn't be difficult to find something incriminating.

But–

Your gaze sweeps to the side, lingering on the boys. Jungkook's precious bunny smile is on display as he watches the dancers move around the street, a hint of awe in his eyes. Taehyung is practically hanging off Seokjin's back, pointing to everything he wants Seokjin to capture with his camera. The boys look mesmerized by the parade, their earlier tension eased by the excitement in the air.

Your soul feels split in half, torn between what you want and what you should do. You don't want to leave them, despite everything they've put you through. They are your soulmates and over the past months, you've grown to really, really like them. The thought of leaving them hurts you, makes your heart ache something fierce, but you also know that you can never have a proper life if you stay. You are terribly worried about what might happen to them – the bond – if you go away, but you're also limiting the possibilities of ever finding a cure for their sickness if you don't. Maybe there's someone out there who can help you and them if you only look.

Jimin's arm has fallen away from your waist during the parade, his hands around his mouth as he cheers for the performers.

You slowly ease your hand out of Namjoon's grip, hoping your smile isn't as shaky as it feels as you quickly explain, "I just need to tie my shoe."

Your knees nearly buckle as Namjoon gives you a once over, terrified that he might somehow catch you out. But Namjoon simply just smiles, showing off his dimples as he nods and turns back to watch the parade.

You take a step back, crouching down to tie your slightly loose shoelace. Flower petals keep flitting around you, carried by the wind as they swoop and dance across the ground. You secure your shoe with a tight knot, the tips of your fingers so cold you can barely feel them from the anxiety crashing around inside your body.

You slowly stand back up, taking another small step back.

None of the boys reach out for you, recapture you, their attention caught by the spectacle in front of them. Your group has been moved around by the crowd enough that another step has you standing behind all of them, watching with labored breath as you wait for their realization that you're not anchored to any of them.

It doesn't come.

The chaos of the parade provides you with the cover you need to inch back, the loud drums and petals covering the ground muffling your footsteps. Your eyes flicker wildly between the seven of them, trying to figure out if any of them have noticed you beginning to slip away, but all you see is the boys laughing and smiling, their focus somewhere else.

The couple that was standing behind you is now in front of you, their bodies forming a small wall, a shield, against your soulmates. The crowd behind you easily part as you advance backward, eager for a chance to get a closer look at the parade. Your body feels like a live wire, dread and adrenaline pumping through your veins at a rate that leaves you dizzy.

Your heart is a jumbled mess of stay, go, stay, go – but your mind knows what it needs to do.

You take a mental picture of the sight in front of you, saving the image of the boys looking happy and beautiful, surrounded by warm sunlight and fluttering petals.

For later. As a reminder that things could be good.

It's only once you've reached the back of the street, the distance between you and them so wide that you can barely see Namjoon's head as he slowly turns to where you once stood, waving hands partially obscuring his face as his expression twists into despair, that you let crowd swallow you whole and run.

a/n: thank you all so much for following along with this story for over three years!! what was supposed to be a short 20k fic suddenly turned into one that was 120k haha, but i've had so much fun working on LS and reading all of your theories have been amazing! 💖 thank you to everyone who voted in the original poll, this story is a collab between you and me :')

i know that the ending will leave some of you with a lot of questions and i can answer the most important one right away: No, I don't have any current plans for a sequel. I have told the story I wanted to tell and I'm happy with where it ended :) However, I might be open to doing some commissions down the line of "missing" scenes from the story if that's something you guys want!

it would mean the absolute world to me if you'd leave me a comment/reblog and let me know what you think of the final chapter! 💖 and if you'd feel so inclined, i do have a kofi if you'd like to support me with a coffee!

thank you all so much again!! i do have a few exciting fics coming up so i do hope you stick around for those!

lots of love, maggy.

#yandere bts #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere x reader #yandere yoongi #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #yandere seokjin #yandere taehyung #yandere namjoon #yandere hoseok

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yumeka-sxf · 2 months

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New chapter today, and even though most of it seemed to continue the silly tone from the previous one, the last few pages actually shocked me! 👀

For the first time, ANYA CONFESSED TO SOMEONE THAT SHE CAN READ MINDS! Now this doesn't necessarily mean anything crazy will happen in the series from now on, since Damian doesn't believe her (at first). But proving that you can read minds is easy to do, so the question now becomes, will Anya keep trying to prove it to Damian until he believes her? Or will she regret it later and not try to prove it, and then the plot point isn't touched on again? Regardless, this chapter definitely makes it seem like Damian will be the first person to know about her mind-reading powers.

Then there's the question of why Anya chose to confess this to Damian? I think it's a combination of a few reasons, the main one being that Damian doesn't have any connection to her family, so little risk of him telling them and thus bringing about the fear of abandonment Anya has should they find out. This might also be why she chose to tell him over Becky, since Becky already has somewhat of a relationship with Loid and Yor. The other reason could be that, as time has gone on, she's learned to trust him, at least when it comes to something like this. As hostile as he is towards her, she knows that he's not a double-crosser or a blabbermouth, and deep down he wants to do what's right. And lastly, it was the heat of a moment - her knowledge about him seemed weird so he questioned it, and perhaps at that highlighted moment, when Damian was being genuinely nice to her (since she can read minds, she knows if he's being genuine or not), she wanted to try not lying for once, just to see what happens.

Guess we'll have to wait until next time to see if anything ground-breaking comes from this...will Anya keep pursuing this, will she regret it and let Damian continue to not believe her, or will it just not be mentioned again until later? This reminded me a bit of the Mole Hunt arc where Yuri became suspicious of Loid, but the latter was able to throw him off the track. But the seed of suspicious was planted nonetheless. In this case, even if Damian continues to think Anya was lying, a seed of suspicion may have been planted in him too that could come into play much later on. We'll see!

But besides this big event, a few other notable things in this chapter was super rare soft Damian from the above page. This continues to prove what I've always thought - that Damian acts the way he does to appear "proper" in front of his peers, but when he's alone with Anya, his real feelings seep out. She's a rare person where he doesn't feel the need to put on airs around.

We also got more Henderson x Martha crumbs. Love to see it.

Also loved to see Anya getting cocky and Loid freaking out about it 😅

Overall, even though I'm not as into Damianya as I am Twiyor, I still enjoy seeing their progress, and this chapter was definitely one of the most Damianya-chapters of all~ Despite some of the "dance with Damian" challenges being a bit too silly for my taste (like, how did Emile and Ewen organize all that last minute?) the payoff at the end was worth it! Loid and Yor better get themselves together or their daughter will end up beating them in the romance department 😂

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #anya forger #damian desmond #damianya #sxf spoilers #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath.

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line.

You weren’t exactly happy about this.

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach.

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you.

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that.

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily.

Maybe.

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared.

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee.

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one.

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger.

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never.

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed.

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See.

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time.

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did.

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five.

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention.

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you.

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways.

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong.

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat.

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall.

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention —

and you slipped.

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge.

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally.

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle.

You’d made it?

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening!

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd.

But.

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen.

It wanted you as its rider.

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly.

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw.

Firstborn daughter excellence.

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong.

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling.

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you.

You were all alone.

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement.

Right.

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life.

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly!

The first flight sealed the bond, after all.

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step.

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night.

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine.

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you.

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos.

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun.

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory?

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. .

Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up.

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this.

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick.

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.”

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core.

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.”

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood.

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in.

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation.

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child.

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first.

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.

His teenage daughter. Scared him.

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place.

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore.

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely.

And then he didn’t.

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut.

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before.

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.”

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three.

Trial and error.

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step.

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning.

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.”

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?”

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—”

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face.

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble.

“Neytiri?”

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear.

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the day had finally come to bring little matteo to the track. charles had been waiting for this day since he was born, but made sure to wait until you were ready. now matteo is 6 months old and his father couldn’t be more excited to show him everything he could about f1

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of anxiety, harsh media but other than that, lots of fluff!

𝐚/𝐧: here she is! chapter two and man have the past few days been taxing on me, i’m just trying to focus on writing and ignoring everything else so, i hope your enjoying this series and are looking forward to this chapter! it’s a bit on the shorter end but i hope that’s okay, i haven’t been feeling well lately<3

𝐰𝐜: 900 ish…?

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

It was finally the long-awaited day, well for Charles at least, where little Matteo was finally going to be heading to the track to watch the grand prix. Well technically you had agreed to qualifying day and if all went well then you would come back for the race on Sunday. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to bring your baby boy to watch his father do what he loves, you were still just an anxious new mom, and your husband knew that.

“Okay, extra bottles…his pacifier, pluto the dog”

“Baby, I think you have everything..”

Shaking your head you paused

“Charles, I need to make sure I have everything because if I don’t and he freaks out I-I just”

“Whoa..okay..”

Charles placed his hands on your shoulders, your eyes coming up to meet his which of course were full of nothing but love for you

“Are you sure you want to come?” he asked, no hint of disappointment at all

“Yes, I do..Char I promise I do..I’m sorry I just am all over the place I suppose”

Charles nodded, understanding exactly where you were coming from, thankfully the two of you were able to have a quiet moment together as Matteo napped before you had to leave

“It’s okay, I know you’re anxious, but we’ll take it one step at a time okay? When I can’t be with you I know Joris or Marta will be right?”

You nodded

“You also know if you need anything at all you can have someone from the team get me right away right..?”

He waited until you nodded once again before pressing a kiss to your forehead

“Right…no you’re right..okay I think I have everything ready to go then”

“Good, then let’s go get the little man and head out!”

Monaco was a beautiful city, but on race week and weekend it seemed to get that much more magical. The paddock was no different, familiar faces and friends could be spotted easily, Charles’s family around as well which was perfect for Matteo

“Bonjour petit ours!”

At the sound of Arthur Leclerc’s voice, Matteo squealed as he began to wave his little arms around, the younger Leclerc brother quickly coming over and taking him from you, before leaning forward to pull you in for a hug, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks

“Bonjour chouchou”

“Hi Thur, nice to see a familiar face”

He smiled

“Yes I would think so, this year is a bit crazy, I was just about to walk over to the Ferrari garage if you want company?”

“I’d love that! Where is Carla?”

Matteo placed a hand on Arthur’s cheek as he babbled away, his little eyes looking at everything around him

“Oh she is on her way, i’m sure she’ll be glued to you both”

Ever since you’d started your relationship with Charles and had the chance to meet Carla when she came into Arthur’s life, you’d been super close to one another, it was like having a little sister all in one.

“Well he seems to be quite content to be here”

You smiled as you looked at your little one, his eyes still enamoured by the sights and noises

“I’m surprised, I was so anxious he’d be scared of everything”

“He is a Leclerc, he was born for this.”

Arthur sent you a wink as you both arrived at the garages, truth be told the comment he made had sent a bit of worry throughout you. Charles grew up karting, and it was something he had begun to talk to you about with Matteo, and you were absolutely terrified. Terrified at the thought of him getting in that little kart, terrified to watch him go fast and potentially get hurt. It was a thought for another day.

Matteo had settled back into your arms as his uncle kissed his head and then walked away towards some of his F2 friends he’d spotted, giving you time to bring your baby boy over to the garage. It wasn’t long before he let out his tell tale excited squeal, and it meant he had either spotted his father, or Max Verstappen. Matteo’s relationship with Max was something so adorable, he’d gotten close to the dutch driver from a young age, and he and Kelly had always been two of the first people you’d call to babysit, besides your mother in law of course.

“Hey there little speed demon!”

You rolled your eyes at Max as he was quick to come over and take Matteo from you

“Oh sorry Y/N didn’t even see you there” he teased

“Sure, no I totally understand, I’m virtually invisible when I’ve got this cutie with me”

Max went to rebuttal when an arm slipped around your waist and a pair of lips pressed to your temple

“Tu n’es jamais invisible pour moi, chérie”

“Aww merci bébé!”

Leaning into Charles you laughed as Max was quick to cover Matteo’s eyes

“Come on, we need to escape, too much grossness here for you baby leclerc!”

“Bring him back before quali please!”

Charles yelled as Max began to walk away, the red bull driver yelling a ‘you got it!’ back before it was just you and your husband.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked letting you lean further into his side, knowing you needed a bit more comfort, especially when Matteo wasn’t around

“A bit better, Teo’s been loving every second..I should have known everything would be okay”

“No, it’s okay to be anxious you know that, it’s his first time here…I know you’re anxious right now knowing he’s not with you”

You hated how easily he could read you, and man did he know you inside and out like a book

“He’s safe with Max, i’m sure he’s gone to see Kelly as well, if you want I can call him?” he offered which had you shaking your head

“Oh no, let him enjoy his time, though i’m sure Maman will be over soon begging to take him, I think she’s jealous of Max”

This had Charles laughing as he nodded in agreement

“Yes she was telling me the other day that he spends far too much time with Max”

“We’re so lucky aren’t we?”

“We are.”

It always occurred to you that unlike some families you would never ever run out of love, in fact you had an abundance of it. From your friends and family, to Charles’s friends and family. Matteo would always grow up with so many people around him that adored him just as much as you and Charles did.

Even if there was a deeper conversation waiting and gnawing at you to be had, it could wait for another day. Right now you only wanted to focus on your family and Matteo as he got his first taste at Formula One track life. Nothing could wipe the smile off your face seeing how happy your boys were. Charles had settled into being a father so gracefully, managing his time at work and at home in a way that had you so grateful.

“It’s almost quali..we should go find Teo”

“Good idea, Max has stolen my son enough!”

Shaking your head, Charles took your hand and began to walk towards the one spot you knew where he would be. Soon enough, you saw your little boy laughing and clapping as he was entertained by not only Max but Christian as well.

At least you knew if Ferrari didn’t pick him when he got older Red Bull would.

english translations:

Bonjour petit ours - hello little bear

Bonjour chouchou - hello sweetheart

Tu n’es jamais invisible pour moi, chérie - you are never invisible to me baby

Aww merci bébé - thank you baby

ʚlittle karter series tag list

@goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @piastricodedfr @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @goldenalbon @wintfleur

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dotster001 · 11 months

Text

Girlies End

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Choose Another Ending

Jamil's phone had been non stop ringing for the past ten minutes. Which was unfortunate, because he was trying to take notes for Kalim, who would definitely forget everything the cat was telling them.

"Our next step will be to have you slowly work your way into Y/N and my daily routine," Grim pointed a yardstick at step three on the whiteboard he was standing in front of. "Recommendations include, offering to buy my tuna, buying me regular gifts, purchasing necessities we need around Ramshackle, like a new deluxe mattress, or deluxe slippers, or carpeting so that I don't need the slippers. Really, you can just use your imagination here."

"What about a new diamond choker, that's super shiny, so Y/N always knows where you are?" Kalim asked excitedly.

"That's brilliant! It's ideas like that that prove you're the perfect match for Y/N!"

Jamil would normally have been livid. But he knew that someone like you would quickly see that Kalim wasn't as complex an individual as you needed. And he would be right there for you to fall for…

And if not…well…he'd gotten quite good at controlling his signature spell. He couldn't say he hadn't warned Grim. He was practically begging him to do it at this point!

"Will you please deal with that buzzing? Kalim and I can't think!" Grim suddenly shouted at Jamil, as his phone rang for the umpteenth time.

He scowled, before muttering a "be right back" and answering the phone in the hallway.

"What?" He snapped.

He quickly apologized upon hearing his mother's voice.

"I was just wondering if Najma was settling in all right?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Jamil asked, completely confused.

"Well, she said you had a guest room all set for her, but I just wanted to make sure she was comfy, and that you were both behaving."

"Wait, Najma is here?" Jamil had a terrible, horrible, feeling in his gut that he knew where she was.

"She said she saw you-"

"You're right mom, sorry, I've been overwhelmed lately and just got confused for a moment." It was a terrible excuse, he just had to hope his mother would accept it.

"Alright, just make sure you get some rest. Tell Najma I love her, and to be good!"

He breathed a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. Then he made a beeline to Ramshackle.

The door was cracked when he got there, so he just walked right in. And the first thing he saw was Najma making out with you, heavily, on the couch.

He cleared his throat, and Najma looked up, startled, before bursting into laughter. Confused, you looked up and covered your face with your hands.

He watched as you looked flustered, and mumbled nonsense as though trying to explain yourself. Najma just looked smug.

"Sup buttface?" she said.

"Jamil, I can explain!" You said.

"Nah, he knows now, babe, might as well tell him," Najma said, gently caressing your cheek. She turned back to Jamil.

"Y/N and I have been dating ever since they came to visit a couple months ago. We didn't tell you cause we knew you'd flip out."

"I-gah-I'm not flipping out! But why would you do this?!?!?"

You shrunk deeper into the couch, looking at Najma like she would protect you from Jamil's yelling. Najma continued to look smug, even in the face of danger.

"You're totally flipping out. But it's cool. I know it's cause you're jealous that I landed a hottie like Y/N, and you're gonna die miserable and alone."

Jamil frustratedly ran his hands through his hair.

"Najma…Y/N…gah! Y/N, you like girls?"

"Yes," you whispered.

"Yeah, Y/N likes girls, now get out of here so I can keep making out with my partner," Najma didn't even wait for him to react, she just grabbed your face and resumed kissing you.

"Najma-"

"Y/N, tell Jamil to stop being a little freak, so I can keep kissing you," Najma said poutily against your neck.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jamil cut you off.

"I'm leaving! Sevens, if mom asks me if I've seen you though, I'm ratting you out."

Najma flipped him off as he left.

Once he exited the building, he leaned against the outer wall and groaned. Leave it to his sister to ruin everything he'd spent months planning. He shouldn't have even been surprised.

Oh well, he'd let you tell Grimm that he wouldn't spend his life living like a millionaire at the Asim household.

The End

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst najma #najma viper #najma x reader #najma viper x reader

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wolfiesmoon · 2 months

Note

HELLOOOO!!!

I like, just read your work, and I SUPER DUPER LOVE IT!!!!

(very slay)

So like, I'm so happy you're doing requests!

Could I do a request for a jealous Lilia Vanrouge? No problem if you don't do it fast, or even don't do it! No stress or pressure!

hahahah hiiiiiii!

idk why but i absolutely love ur vibes!! u seem so silly (very fitting for a lilia kisser)

i actually had a bit of trouble thinking about a plot for this, i don't see Lilia as the type to get seriously jealous (atleast not the current lilia, still in blissful ignorance abt book 7) so i made it a different, more silly type of jealous in the end

"Ahehehe, he's so pretty..." you smiled at your phone, sat on Lilia's bed at the moment. After coming to Twisted Wonderland and obtaining a phone, you realised that you have a whole new world to explore. A whole new world of otome games.

Recently, you've been obsessed with this one guy in one of the otome games you're playing. He's just perfect, and that's all that is to it.

On the other hand, your good friend Lilia has been feeling a strange sense of unsatisfaction whenever you talk about that fictional crush of yours.

He invited you over to his room with the intent to converse with you deep into the night but you're just rolling around on his bed and freaking out over a fictional character instead of gazing at him with interest as he talks about one of his travels.

Not that he blames you for getting so worked up over video games, no no. He himself finds a lot of enjoyement in playing them. They have an appeal, and he gets it. Though he hasn't experienced an otome game for himself yet.

But he still thinks that it is quite rude you are not talking to him right now. Not to mention the strange feeling that boils inside him when you giggle at your phone for the umpteenth time.

He'll have to gain your attention in the way he knows best.

He soundlessly climbs up on the bed behind you, making sure you didn't notice him before grabbing your shoulders from behind and playfully yelling "Boo!"

"Ack! Lilia!" You yelp, turning back to see Lilia laughing heartily at your reaction.

"Hahahaha, that was quite the reaction!" He seemed very pleased with himself.

"What was that for?" You furrowed your brows, pouting at him.

"Well, I invited you to my room so we can enjoy eachother's company, is all." A subtle invitation to start a conversation. His eyes travelled to your phone screen for a moment and he saw the fictional guy you're freaking out about.

Hm... he could probably do better. Atleast in his humble opinion.

"In a minute, in a minute... just gotta finish this chapter." You turned back to your phone with excitement shining in your eyes. Excitement that wasn't directed at him.

Oh, he sees how it is. He'll just have to win you back the hard way.

He casts a spell on your phone, making it float out of your hands. You tried to reach above you to catch it but it just kept floating higher and higher, just out of your reach.

"Lilia! Stop that!" You knew it was him doing it, mainly because he was laughing joyously, watching you jump around on the bed, trying to catch it.

"Oh, but I'm enjoying myself very much right now. Is it so wrong of me to have a bit of fun?" He smiled at you mischeviously. There was a glint of something you can't quite place shining behind his eyes.

"You seem oddly worked up." You comment, giving up on the phone for now and plopping back down on the bed.

"Whatever do you mean..?" Lilia acted innocent. While you were inspecting his face to find any suspicious expressions, he used magic to poof your phone away. There. Now there's no more distractions.

"Wait... my phone! What did you do to it?!" You realised it's gone a tad too late, head whipping around the room to try and find it.

"Kehehe, don't worry. I put it somewhere safe." Lilia assured you. Now you can focus all your attention on the one who's right in front of you, on him.

"O...kay? Why are you smirking evilly at me?" you were now especially suspicious of him.

He moved next to you on the bed, wrapping his right arm around you. He seemed awfully delighted when you looked at him in the eyes.

"Now, we can talk for hours. I have lots of things I want to find out about you." he punctuated the 'you' with a playful poke to your forehead.

"O...Oh, all right. What do you want to talk about?" you were still kind of processing the entire situation, but you were glad Lilia was in a talkative mood. Conversations with him are always enjoyable, even if you didn't get to finish that chapter you were really looking forward to.

"There, now I have you. I'll make it worth your time." he seemed very satisfied at the return of your interested gaze on him. Now he just has to make sure it stays on him for good.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst x reader #twst x yuu #twst x you #twst x mc #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x you #lilia x yuu #lilia x reader #lilia x mc #lilia x you #gender neutral reader #fun fact i was originally gonna have him tackle you and then have silver walk in and be like “WTF DAD????”

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nctinkverse · 4 months

Text

Promissa Redux - Chapter 1

Synopsis: At 32, divorced with a wonderful 5-year-old daughter, questions from your teenage years resurface. The fairy tales and romance novels painted a perfect picture after the "happily ever after," but reality begged to differ. Mrs. Jung was your title for two years, and you cherished it.

Life, however, took a detour far from the expected plotlines, lacking the dramatic twists of a superhero movie. The not-so-happily ever after unfolded with its share of uncertainties, tough decisions, and the consequences of chosen paths.

Now, holding an engagement ring box you stumbled upon, the questions about love, endings, and new beginnings arise again, demanding answers you must seek soon.

Warnings: minnors do not interact!, for this chapter we've got angst, sex, and curse words.

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Word count: 2.400

Unauthorized copying or translation of this work is strictly prohibited.

----------- Preview, warnings and full synopsis here --------------------

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

Chapter 1 - Shattered promises & Broken vows.

One day, you promised yourself, one day you're gonna wake up and forget what you once had, what you gave up. It will stop. You won't think about it every time you get a moment for yourself. But right now, you can still remember the choices you had to make.

You feel yourself coming down, orgasms are a good thing, you can't deny it, so you breathe with your nails buried deep in your boyfriend's back. Orgasms are good, they aren't always granted, they aren't always mind-blowing, but they relax you, they have the power of making sure you cannot think. Just enjoy the high, orgasms always tell you. And you listen.

You listen because it's either that or hear the voices in your head saying it will never make you feel the way he used to. It's either go all in or give in to the sadness that is always lurking in your heart, telling you what you can't hear. So, you go high, but you come down, and all you can think is... you need to pee.

Getting up with shaking legs is a light feeling, peeing when you just had sex is also relieving, but almost stumbling back to bed because you stomp on something is no good.

So, you say a small "Shit!" Yeah, you're a mom, and moms do curse, especially if your feet hurt because it feels like you stomped on a huge Lego piece.

Unfortunately, like a mom, you bend down to pick up the shit that made your feet hurt because that's what moms do. Only this time, your eyes pop out of your sockets once you remember that soft velvet boxes aren't Lego pieces.

Who is idiotic enough to leave a ring box on the floor????

It takes a peek of annoyance before you realize the following things: You have a boyfriend. He's lying on the bed butt naked. You took out his clothes right before he said you guys needed to talk. You were horny, so you said, "We’ll talk later." Now, there's a velvet ring box on your hand that must have fallen out of his pocket because his pants were just by it.

"Shit, shit, shit!" you chant in your head this time, so he doesn't see you freak out. Panicking, you start to get your clothes back on again, you can't find your panties yet, so you leave it and start to make it to the door, but before running you make sure to drop the ring box.

When you make it to the room door, you say it with a high-pitched nervous tone, "I have to go, something came up," while turning and shutting the door without waiting for an answer.

When you make it to the asphalt with your black car, cracking the windows down is a must, you need to breathe and can't make it long before having to stop and collect yourself. You're 32, for God's sake, a stupid ring box shouldn't scare you like this. But shit, it does.

Seven years ago, fear was the last thing on your head when he asked you to marry him, your brain…or is it your heart, remembers you…

But this time, rings, promises, and the possibilities of broken vows scare you. You can’t, you don’t deserve him. You can’t possibly think about making another vow after breaking one just like this.

Banging your head on the steering wheel once, twice, and still not feeling like yourself, you think about the only thing in this entire world that would make you stop thinking about yourself, and that’s your daughter, the beautiful Jung Nari.

So you decide to pick up your phone to look at the time, and start to feel more like yourself when you see a cute orange lily dangling thing tied to your phone case, it was your daughter's Mother's Day gift that she made in art class.

She knows her name is Nari, after lilies, your favorite flower, so anytime she can gift you something, even if it’s just a drawing, Nari makes sure there’s at least one orange flower in the midst. With the cold winter wind flowing through the window and the 10 p.m mark on your phone, you decide to make a call. Maybe if she’s still awake, you can cuddle.

There’s a ring, two, and a third when you listen to a small “Hello” coming in a woman’s voice you love too much.

“Hi, Mrs. Jung, it’s me.”

“I know, dear; is everything alright?”

You laugh still a bit shakily while saying, “Am I that transparent?”

“You’re an open book to me, dear, come home. Nari is still awake, and my back can’t take too many hours of her cuddling before she starts to kick me.”

That sounded like Nari, she just like you, was a kicker of sheets at night. Her father says that she is just like you, can’t calm down unless you’re spooned, and your feet feel warm. You had cold feet and his were always warm and perfectly at reach so you could tangle yours against them.

Shaking that thought away, you replied a quick “I’m going, see you soon” to your ex-mother-in-law, who most of the time felt more like a mom to you than your own.

That’s why you had to make the decisions you made, so you could keep Nari close to her family, the Jung family was your family as well. There was no denying that as much as you always felt you didn’t fit in South Korea, you at least felt at home with them, Mr. and Mrs. Jung and… with Jaehyun too.

You didn’t hate him, never did, probably never will.

He gave you something so beautiful, meaningful that you could never, ever, hate him for anything. It wasn’t hate, it wasn’t the lack of love that led you two to break up, but just the opposite. Loving him was too great, too big, too much, and it was hurting you so much that keeping your cries hidden was becoming a challenge the more Nari grew.

You couldn’t make this to her, you couldn’t even think about the possibility of her thinking her dad didn’t want her or her mother because you kept suffering. She was just a baby, she wouldn’t and shouldn’t understand. The only thing you wanted her to know was love.

A love so great so beautiful that even when the distance put an ocean between her and her dad, love would still ring louder in her head instead of any fear of not being loved. And that’s why you did what you did.

Jung Nari loved her dad, she felt safe with him, she called him when she needed him, and he would pick up in a heartbeat. You knew you made the right decision, so did he. He wouldn’t fault you for it too.

Making your way to your ex-in-law's house, the gate opened just as you pulled up. After parking your car next to the huge 6-bedroom house in the middle of an expensive, almost exclusive part of Seoul, you felt calm. Looking up while going up the outside stairwell next to Mrs. Jung's garden, you could see the pastel pink light of your daughter’s bedroom still lit.

Great, she was still awake, and you wanted to cuddle her to sleep. She could tangle her little feet with your legs, and you wouldn't mind the tiny cold pressed against yours.

You made your way inside, going straight to her bedroom. When you opened the door, your mother-in-law was just next to her bed on a chair, with a princess book in her hand.

"Oh, thank God you arrived. She wanted another story, but we both know she is almost falling asleep," your mother-in-law said.

"I don't want no sleepy granny," Nari whispered in a voice that sounded more like a sleepy murmur than a complaint.

Getting up with the princess book in hand, Mrs. Jung gave her a goodnight kiss on the forehead and said in a light tone, "Good night, Junnie. Your mom is going to sleep with you, okay?"

Shaking off your winter clothes and shoes, you made your way to your kid’s bed, spooning Nari. The first thing she did was place her cold, tiny cute feet pressed against your thigh.

Right now, you felt more like yourself than the whole day.

With her head pressing against your nose, you breathed in her strawberry shampoo and her own soft scent. With your bigger arms, you crossed her center and started to whisper.

“Time to sleep, beautiful.”

“But I want stories,” she replied with so much sleep in her voice that you had to contain a laugh.

“Tomorrow, mommy is gonna tell you two stories before tucking you into bed, but right now, it’s sleep time.” You pleaded through whispers.

She just hugged your arm and let out a small hum. She went so quiet for a while you thought that she had already slept.

“Do princesses get married two times, mommy?” Nari asked while turning in your arms.

Your heart was beating loud in your ribcage, could she know?

“Why do you ask that, sweetheart?”

“Mommy is a princess in my stories, but mommy is not married anymore.”

“Why is my baby thinking about all that? Mommy can still be a princess without a man, did you know?”

“I know, but someone evil will push you to get married to a prince, don’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“The only prince in my stories is dad, you can’t marry someone better than dad, or prettier.”

Holding back a laugh, you went with it to figure out her cute line of thought.

“Do I need to marry someone?”

“No, but it can't be a prince. No frog too! I hate frogs!”

“But why not a prince, aren't they the best ones?”

“No! Only dad! If you marry another prince, you'll forget about me, mommy!”

Your heart constricted in pain realizing where she was going.

“Mommy is never going to forget about you, sweetheart. How can I? Mommy needs you too.”

“But if mommy has another baby with a prettier prince, I won’t be beautiful anymore.”

“Jung Nari, my sweetheart, you could be covered in mud, but mommy would still think you're the prettiest thing she has ever seen.”

“I hate mud, mommy!”

“I know, beautiful.”

She went silent for a few seconds until she said.

“I’ll still be beautiful even muddy?”

“I swear it.”

She stopped again and went…

“O.K. now silent. I can’t sleep with you talking so much.”

Holding in your laugh, you just left kisses on her head and while letting your fingers drag along the dark honey-brown hair color she got from her father. This time, with a calmer heart, she fell asleep.

After a while with Nari’s feet pressed right against your tights, you realized you’ve had fallen asleep too, with careful movements, you were able to untangle yourself from your kid and tucked her in properly with the covers.

Getting your bag and winter coat, you left the bedroom trying to be as silent as possible. Glancing at the watch on your wrist you realized it was almost midnight.

You made it to the kitchen and while waiting for your glass of water to fill you heard footsteps.

“Is she asleep?” Asked your Mrs. Jung.

“Yeah, she did.”

Sitting down on the kitchen table, she looked at you with concern.

“What happened my child?”

You let out a small laugh, she was always very attentive, it was a trait Jaehyun inherited from her, and hopefully Nari would too, it made people around them feel seen and valued.

“Nothing, Mrs. Jung.”

She looked at you with reprimanding eyes, she always hated being called Mrs. Jung, instead of mom.

You breathed loudly and asked.

“How did you feel when Mr. Jung proposed?”

She looked a little taken aback for a minute but replied with a smile on her lips.

“I felt so happy I almost forgot to say eyes because he was so beautiful and looking at me like I was his entire world, it’s such an intense feeling when you realize you matter that much to a person.”

You were looking at her face, checks pink, eyes that screamed joy as like she was reliving the memory in her mind.

“What did you feel like?” She asked.

“You know how it was. You were there, I was crying so hard.” You laughed at the memory, Jaehyun was so nervous he thought you were crying out of sadness, you still remember his relieved face when you managed to breath a small yes between tears.

“I saw it, but I didn’t feel it…what did you felt at that moment?”

“I felt loved…I knew marring me was a big risk, I knew I came with a lot of expectancies and issues, being with me wasn’t goin to be easy or come at a cheap price, yet when he got on one knee I knew… I knew he loved me and saw me for what I was worth, I was crying but I don’t remember anything in my life at that point making me as happy as I was at that moment.”

When you finished, you had your answer.

“Did someone propose?” She asked.

“No.”

“Is someone going to?”

“Probably.”

“And what are you going to say?”

“I don’t know, all I know, it’s if I hesitate…” You couldn’t finish that sentence, what if you couldn’t say yes? What if never again in your life you could let someone in?

Mrs. Jung probably saw all the pain and confusion in your eyes, so she got up from her chair and came to you, pulling you in a hug, she was taller you, so she just let you slump against her and hug her back with yourself tucked like a child in her chest.

You started to cry, and for a while she didn’t say anything, she just let you be while running her fingers along your locks of hair.

After what if felt like at least 30 painful minutes she withdrew a bit and so did you, she looked in your eyes and said:

“You my child, deserve all the love in the world, the magic that comes with it. Don’t tell yourself otherwise, you’re worth it.”

Mom, yeah, you should really start calling her that again.

Next Chapter

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Taglist: @dulyrana @clblnz 💚

#nct #kpop smut #nct series #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #nct x reader #nct scenarios #fic:promissa redux

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supernaturalistthings · 3 months

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Season 4 Dean Winchester Headcanons

Lazarus Rising- Having a reunion with Dean after hell. You wouldn't believe it's him at first but after reassurance from Bobby and Sam you’d run into each other's arms. He'd be holding back tears while holding you like he needed you to breathe, and THE KISS? The kiss is magical and mixed with tears because you just can't believe you got the love of your life back. The relief you both feel is top tier. “Don't worry baby i got you” But really you'd have him and you know this is the start of a hard road of recovery for him.

Are you there God? It's me Dean Winchester- comforting and reassuring him after his fight with the ghosts of Meg and Hendrikson. Slowly running your hands through his hair and singing his praises because he deserves that.

Monster Movie- You’d accompany the boys on this case and actually be the one to get taken by the “vampire”. Once Dean fights to get you back safe you'd laugh at the shifter together after everything is said and done and just be in awe of your lives and the things that happen.

Yellow Fever- You'd also be on this case with the boys. You'd comfort Dean about his ghost sickness and promise to keep him safe from any angsty teenagers that come your way. He really believes you and clings to you for any comfort he can get. You and Sam do the heavy lifting on the case, sharing the load of your worries about Dean together. You can't help but giggle a little when he gets scared of the cat jumping out of the storage thing. Vowing to tease him for it later, and you do when he's okay. “I had freaking ghost sickness okay?! Let that cat try it now and see how little I care…” he'd say.

Wishful Thinking- He wishes for you to be right there with him which results in the sudden urge for you to drive for hours to get to him. The downside of the curse is that you were not happy about the drive or being mind controlled by a coin so you're livid when you show up. Of course when the curse is broken you both laugh at the whole thing together and needless to say he’ll do ANYTHING to make it up to you;)

The Monster at the End of This Book- You’re shocked to learn that you and your boyfriend are full frontal in a book “youve got to be kidding me” was all you could say. You'd be even more shocked to learn that you have fans and they are “shipping” you and Dean. You'd be grossed out to find out that people also “ship” you and Sam. “Ewww” you'd both let out in unison. “Yeah it better be eww” Dean would huff out in disgust with an added eye roll. Dean would secretly re read the chapters where it talks about your feelings towards him, he secretly loves that its written by a prophet how much you love and care for him. It's a huge reassurance.

When the Levee Breaks- You help him try to detox Sam and are there to calm him down when he's alone. He doesn't tell you that he gave himself over to the angels wanting to enjoy his last moments with you. You constantly have a hand on him and just hold him through the whole Sam demon blood detox telling him it's going to be okay no matter what happens.

Lucifer Rising- You're on Dean's side with the whole Ruby thing of course, you always saw through her and got the feeling she was just trying to manipulate Sam for some reason. You were with Bobby when Dean was teleported to the angels and you both were freaking out knowing there was nothing you guys could do. You sat with him panicked, waiting on any signs of life from either of them. Cas pops in to reassure you guys that Dean is somewhere safe which does nothing for the both of you and you freak out telling him to bring him back which then Cas just vanishes with no answers. Eventually Sam and Dean turn up pretty beat up. You're beyond pissed at Sam when you hear the whole story. You're beyond worried when you hear Dean say the devil is out and it's their problem.

#dean winchester #dean winchester headcannons #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester moodboard #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural #supernatural headcanon #supernatural imagine #dean winchester headcanon #dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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Anger: Raphael’s Ending (Angst) (18+)

2007!Raphael x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Leonardo's Ending

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A/N: Here it is! The one you all have been waiting for! The last chapter of the Anger series. Raphael’s Ending. Now, enjoy yourself as you fool around once more with Raphie boi❤️

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Warnings: Angsty emotions, strong emotions, face sitting, oral - female receiving, every slight sub Raph and dom reader, turtley anatomy, unprotected sex.

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Reluctantly Raphael did like Leonardo had told him, and went to Donatello to get his arm checked. Turned out it was a good idea to get Donnie to look at it. The injury had been way worse than Raph had thought. To say that Donnie was freaking out was an understatement. He was screaming and yelling like Leo often did when he was mad, asking him how he could have been so careless. With Mikey watching quietly, listening intently to all of Donnie’s questions, waiting for Raph’s answers in anticipation. But as Donnie wrapped up Raph’s arm, he shot down every single one of the questions with a growl. It was none of their business what had happened, and he had no intention of telling them anything. Especially not new mother hen Donnie, who’s questions made Raph’s four toes curl in frustration. Except for his bad toe. Donnie had to wrap that one up too.

With his arm and toe bandaged, Raph didn’t do much the next few days. He ate and slept, restlessly waiting for the moment he knew who you chose; him or his oldest brother. In all honesty, the waiting made him anxious. He was jumpy at all sounds, turning to look at the entrance, hoping you were about to walk in. But every time it was either nothing but his own imagination, or just one of his brothers.

As the days went on, Raph only became more and more fearful. Sitting in his room late at night, his leg with his good foot restlessly bouncing up and down, staring into his wall, wondering what you were doing. What you were thinking. Maybe you were thinking about Leo. All this time, after that night, were you thinking of Leo? It was a dreaded thought that Raph found more and more often, causing him immense stress.

During the day, Raph would watch Leo out of the corner of his eye, unsure of how he could keep so calm, during these tense days of waiting. Did he not fear what the possible outcome would be? Or did he know something that Raph didn’t? Was he so calm because he had no reason to fear the outcome? That was the thought that kept Raph at the edge of his seat, fears and insecurities clouding his mind. Leo was so calm, because he knew you would choose him. That was at least the fear that was taking root in Raph’s thoughts.

At night, Raph stayed up late, laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling of his room. The slight pain in his arm when he laid the wrong way kept him up. The mere thought of you kept him up. The smell of you in his room kept him up, bringing back all the memories of you and him, tangled up in his bed sheets. The way you moaned into his ear, begging him to keep going, your arms grasping around him as he would continuously thrust into you, enjoying your warmth against him. Raph felt longing re-enter his heart, alongside the stinging pain of sadness.

What would Raph do if you decided to go back to his brother instead of him? What could he do? Would he have to go back to how he used to go about his feelings for you? Fueling with immense anger and hatred towards you and his brother’s relationship. Raphael hated the thought. For once he was tired of being angry. He just wanted you back in his arms, and feel his world become peaceful once again. He wished to feel your lips once more, and hear your beautiful voice say his name, just like you had done all those times.

Raph cursed himself in his bed. Why did he never tell you? Why did he never tell you that he loved you? All those times he had you under him, he never took the time to tell you those words that filled his head. He loved you. Fuck, how he loved you. It was the reason he got himself into this mess and made a fool of himself in the first place. All because of his anger, impatience and his love for you. He had been so blinded by his own wants and needs, that he did not think of you nor your wishes. And now, after finally having gotten a taste of you, Raph would never be able to live a life, knowing you were as amazing as he had thought you would be, and not having you.

Raph rubbed his face, before turning onto his good side with his back towards the door. Did you know you had the power to drive him crazy? With the storm he was feeling inside, there was no way that you didn’t. He was sure that the lightning from his mental clouds could be heard all over New York City.

While laying there on his side, Raph heard the door to his bedroom creak open. He sighed in annoyance, knowing fully well it was Donatello who had comed in to check up on his arm.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Donnie?”, Raph growled in annoyance as he sat up so he could turn to look at the door. “My arm is okay! You don’t have to check on it every-”. Raph stopped mid sentence, once he realized it wasn’t Donnie that had walked into his room. Raph was shocked to see you close his door behind you, before turning your attention towards him.

Your eyes fell upon his arm, and concern flashed over your. “What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing”, Raph said, still not fully sure if you were actually in his room, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. Had he finally gone crazy? Had he lost his mind? Had all this waiting and longing for you finally turned his brain to mush?

You watched Raph for a moment, before finally moving to his bed, taking a seat next to him. This all felt strange. These kind of quiet moments between you and Raph had been a rarity for these past two years. Normally Raph could not even wait less than a minute, before he would jump at you. But now he was just sitting there, watching you with wide eyes, fearing that you would blow up in smoke and disappear. But the feeling of the mattress dipping as you sat down, and your scent in the air told him the truth. You were really there.

“How are you doing?”, you asked, with a small smile on your face that made Raph’s heart melt.

“Yes”, Raph said, a hesitant smile forming on his lips. “Especially now that you’re here”. His smile faltered for a moment, before he reached out with his good hand, and took yours. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I should have told you he was home…”

“It’s okay”, you whispered, bringing your other hand up to sooth the back of Raph’s hand, your fingers slowly stroking and making shapes on his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “I forgive you, Raphael”. Raph stared at you in confusion, not sure if he could believe the words that had left your mouth. Yet, you still sat there and smiled at him, your fingers ever so slowly gliding across his skin. “Though I felt really hurt, I do think I understand why you did it”.

“Why?”, Raph asked.

“You feared that I would go back to him, didn’t you?” You turned his hand over, before continuing your shapes on his palm. “That I would leave you as soon as I heard he got home?” You took Raph’s silence as an answer. “I don’t blame you, Raph. I really don’t. And I’m sorry that I yelled at you”.

“I deserved to be yelled at”, Raph sighed, looking away from you. “I was an idiot, to both you and Leo. A jerk. I shouldn’t have done or said those things”.

You placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face to look at you, a warm genuine smile meeting him. “Like I already told you, I forgive you, Raph. And I know Leo well enough to know he’ll forgive you too”. Your thumb stroked his cheekbone. “It's all going to be okay”.

Raph leaned into your touch, savoring the feeling. “You’re amazing, (Y/N). I don’t deserve someone as good as you”.

“Then I guess it’s too bad I’ve decided to stay with you”, you smiled, your face getting closer and closer to his. Raph’s heart started rising once more, and he felt his palm getting sweaty. His eyes glued to your lips as they came closer. “What do you say, Raph? Will you have me?”

Raph did not answer you. Instead he crashed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, just like he had done so many times before. Fuck he had missed this feeling so much. Your soft tasty lips, and the small sounds that came from them. There was no way you did not know how crazy you were driving him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you hungrily kissed him back, moaning softly as your tongues started dancing together. You wasted no time taking your hoodie and top off with the help of Raph’s good hand, letting your nipples harden in the cold air of Raph’s room, before you just as eagerly started pulling your joggers down your hips, leaving you in a pair of red thongs. Raph could feel his head spin at the sight and the strong scent of your arousal.

A bit harshly, Raph pushed you onto your back before climbing on top of you, roughly grinding his hips against your dripping core, feeling the soaked fabric of your underwear against his pulsing cloaca. How good he was going to fuck you. After such a long time of waiting, he would have you screaming like never before, until the only thing you could remember was his name, and the feeling of his dick buried deep inside of you-.

“Ouch! Shit”, Raphael breathed, grabbing on to his still injured arm, pain painted across his face. He had accidentally put too much weight on his arm, now causing his arm to act up.

“It’s okay”, you said, leaning onto your arms, a mischievous smile on your face. “Maybe this time it’s my turn to be in control”.

“Maybe it is”, Raph said, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Raph followed your lead, and turned over to lay on his back. He watched as you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Raph’s good hand found its way to your hips, where he softly stroked your love handles with his thumb. Sure, he had had you on top of him before, but never like this. It had usually been with you lying almost limb against him as a moaning mess, your arms loosely hanging around his neck as he held you close, and arm around your back and one around your hip as he thrusted wildly into you. But this was different. You sat on top of him in full control, looking down at him, as he laid there, all to your mercy. It was a new but welcomed feeling, that Raph was surprised he hadn’t tried out with you before.

The smile on your face as you looked down at him sent his heart into flames. You slowly started rolling your hips against Raph, causing him to throw his head back with his eyes shut, a moan escaping his mouth. You bit your lip at the sound. You had never heard such a needy moan from the red clad turtle, feeling your panties getting even more soaked. But those sounds that were flowing from Raph’s lips, gave you an idea.

“Have you missed me?”, you asked, lifting yourself from Raph’s cloaca. This caused Raph’s eyes to snap open, staring to the point where your hips had been connected, burning need shining in his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve missed you!”, Raph moaned, lifting his hips to meet yours, only for you to move up even further, causing him to huff out in frustration.

“What if I asked you to show me, how much you have missed me?”, you asked innocently, letting a finger slowly slide over his cloaca, causing Raph to whimper slightly under you.

“I’ll do it!”, Raph breathed, his chest moving as he took heavy breaths. “How ever you want me to show you, I will!”

Raph watched in anticipation as you lifted yourself even further from him, before slowly working your thong off. He could feel his mouth watering as he felt yet another wave of your arousal against his nose. It didn’t take long before your red thong was laying somewhere on Raph’s floor, and you moved further up Raph’s torso. Once your core was hovering above his chest, Raph realized what you wanted him to do, and he smiled, grabbing your ass with his good hand, before scooting a little down the bed, so you had plenty of space for your legs above his shoulders. You could feel his breath against your thighs as you hovered over his face, your fingers gracing the top of his head.

“Are you going to eat me out good?”, you asked innocently, a mischievous smile plastered over your face.

“Yes”, Raph breathed out, trying to pull you down onto his face with one hand. “Please just let me do it, (Y/N)”.

Raph’s begging went straight to your core. With a delighted hum you lowered yourself onto his face, letting out a moan as his tongue started to move in circles around your clit.

“You’re doing so good, Raph”, you breathed, watching his face work under you, feeling his tongue flick against your clit. He hummed against your folds, the vibration causing you to moan out loud. You took Raph’s good hand and moved it from your ass to your breast, where he started to play with your nipple, as his tongue found your entrance. You started grinding against his face as his tongue thrusted into you, your moans and the wet sounds filling the room.

As Raph continued to work his magic tongue on you, you turned your upper body and reached out your arm so you could let your fingers reach his cloaca once more. You felt Raph jolt slightly under you, moaning against your core once more, as your fingers slowly found their way into his slit, teasing his opening.

You felt the familiar feeling build up in your stomach, letting you know that your peak was getting close. Raph’s tongue sped up, continuously moving in and out of you, as he slowly felt himself drop into your hand. Your legs shook around his head, letting Raph know that you were getting close. But before he could get you pushed over the edge, you moved from his wet face, moving back down his torso. Raph leaned onto his good arm, his face glistering with your wetness in the light, and watched you as you hovered over his arching dick, using your hand to line it up against your entrance, his pre-cum slowly being smeared over your opening.

“You’re fucking beautiful”, Raph mumbled, before laying back on his shell, so his hand could glide down your side. With a chuckle you leaned forward and captured Raph’s lips once more. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Raph moved his hand from your side to your head, deepening the kiss, just as you started to slide down on him. Raph broke from the kiss with a moan, looking down to where he ever so slowly disappeared into you. You whimpered slightly, bracing yourself with your hands on Raph’s plastron, before you continued further down his shaft, feeling him stretching you out. Raph cursed out loud several times, almost getting dizzy at feeling.

You continued down until you had taken him all the way, leaving both of you breathing heavily, taking in what the two of you had been missing for what felt like an eternity. Once you had adjusted to his size, you slowly started lifting yourself up his shaft, before lowering yourself once more. Raph once again threw his head back, moaning out in pleasure as you slowly increased the speed. You had never seen Raph like this before. Laying under you like a moaning and whimpering mess, mumbling incoherent things, that only served to make your heart pumping faster. This was something you could get used to.

You stopped for a moment so you could adjust the angle of your legs, causing Raph’s head to shut up, staring at you with pleading eyes.

“Please don’t stop, (Y/N)”, Raph begged, raising his hips under you eagerly.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the terrapin, pushing his hip down onto the mattress once more. “Don’t worry, Raphie, I won’t”.

Raph moaned out loud at the nickname, before you started moving on him again. His breathing became heavier as he felt his own peak inching closer, his hand feverishly grabbing onto your thigh. You felt your own high coming closer again, causing you to speed up your movements further, fighting through the mild burning in your leg muscles. Behind you, you could feel Raph’s legs move restlessly, and his hip frantically thrusting up against you, as his orgasm washed over him.

“Yes!”, he moaned out, his hips buckling up against you, his eyes closed shut, pleasure painted all over his face, as he started shutting white robes inside of you. “I fucking love you, (Y/N)!”

That was just what you needed before your own orgasm hit, causing you to fall against his plastron, moaning and panting as you pulsated around him, milking the rest of his orgasm out of him.

Raph wrapped his arm around you as the two of you layed there, getting back your breath. That was where you turned your head towards him and placed a tender kiss upon his lips, before giving him a smile that lightened up his world, along with the words he had always wanted to hear with your beautiful voice; “I love you too, Raphael”.

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superblysubpar · 8 months

Text

masterlist | the music

Chapter Warnings: spoilers for the movie franchise Star Wars | mentions of the holiday Halloween being celebrated by others and reader enjoying it | Leigh is not my character creation, a shared character who @sweetsweetjellybean originally created & I put a little twist on for this story with her permission.

Sorry freaks, no smut this chapter - but the series is 18+ and so is my blog so skedaddle on out of here if you're not!

9.4k words | A/N: I can't begin to express my gratitude for those who've read this story & those that helped me get through writing it, especially my beta extraordinaire @sweetsweetjellybean and @loveshotzz for helping me break that pesky wall of self doubt and writer's block always. I have a big long A/N on the epilogue that's posting right after these two chapters with more sap. Thanks for being here, I love you immensely if you've made it this far from the beginning or you're just arriving 💛

In the movies, they like to make those big plot twists drag out for the protagonist to let it really sink in. Or maybe it's more for the viewers. Special effects, camera angles, flashbacks, and poignant music playing - all to make seconds feel much longer than they are.

In your experience, these plot twists are usually predictable. Of course that guy’s the villain, it was the best friend all along, he’s Luke’s father, et cetera, et cetera. You’re utterly baffled every time by a character’s lack of intuition to see it coming. You’ve booed at writing and acting and told yourself that in real life, it’s so different.

Sure, surprises happen. Reality does not care about predictability, the fragile state of the human heart, or what’s fair. You get that. People cheat, they make mistakes, they die, they lose - and there isn’t some fade-to-black-happy-ending guarantee when they do. There isn’t a countdown on the bottom of a screen letting you know there’s still time left to make it all back from whatever happened, no assurance that it’ll all work out.

To call something real - something happening directly to you - a plot twist, seems horribly wrong though. Is there another word for it? Those moments that manage to catch you off guard, that come without warning or a build up. Moments that hit you repeatedly like a knife to a chest in a slasher flick. Or feel like the instant demise of oxygen leaving your lungs as a door opens to space. That sucker-punch from a red glove to the jaw when you think you’ve just won the big fight.

What do you call that shit?

Robin’s voice is an echo, muffled and distorted as if you’re deep underwater. “Oh my god, hi! Wow, you are so much prettier than Steve mentioned.”

Who is with Steve?

Robin keeps going, putting her entire foot in her mouth, oblivious to the way Steve’s eyes haven’t left yours. You only stop staring yourself, after what feels like hours, to finally take in their intertwined hands as Robin babbles. “Wait, I mean…no, see…alright, he told us you were pretty is what I’m trying to say, but like you’re even prettier…”

Who the hell is with Steve?

Her laugh cuts through the fog and your eyes finally focus on the woman attached to the sound.

She’s pretty, just like Robin keeps saying over and over again.

Dark, shiny hair, piercing eyes that you can see - even from this distance - are a hazel to almost match his. A hypnotizing smile, curves and a confidence radiating off of her… everything you wish you were but aren’t.

She laughs again, assuring Robin she gets it (in an infuriatingly humble way), introducing herself as Leigh Kensington.

Nancy perks up at the name when Robin gasps and shouts, “Oh my god! Nance!” Robin looks back, waving her over, “Just like Legally Blonde!” Her voice attempts to lower as she sighs to Leigh, “She loves Reese Witherspoon. It is Vivian Kensington right?” The question louder and directed at Nancy again. Robin doesn’t even take a breath to let her answer though, “Which is hilarious because Steve’s mom’s name is Vivian and you’re dating Steve and you work in legal, right? And-“

Emerald glass shatters around your feet as the bottle of beer falls from your hand, the sharp shards scatter quickly, too broken to ever be put back together. Your legs turn to lead and muscles are no longer in communication with your brain as it finally makes the connection to what you’re seeing and hearing and what that means for you.

“Shit! Jesus, woman-“ Eddie jumps back from you as the glass skirts across the pavement further.

Robin finally turns in your direction at the commotion, her brows knit together in worry. Face progressively getting more concerned as it tightens. Her hand lets a bean bag fall to the board with an echoing thump. “Hey, you look-“

Not waiting to hear the end of her sentence, you will your legs to work and spin, taking off in search of literally any place that isn’t there. Your feet pound against the pavement, thuds that vibrate through the rubber of your soles all the way up to your eardrums.

It’s seconds, less than a minute, and it’s as if the entire stadium - hell, your entire world - has spun upside down. Roars to your left, the rumbling of fan’s excitement from the nosebleeds down to the field mingle and harmonize with the rapid beating in your chest. As you keep running with no real destination other than away, your shoulders bump stranger’s, meeting their frowns and scoffs with whispered and rushed apologies. The familiar sting behind your eyes forms, eyelashes growing damp as you suck in a sharp breath. No more running, you need somewhere to hide.

You’re not going to cry about this. You’re not. How could you be so stupid? How could you let this happen?

The familiar long line all women are accustomed to grabs your attention and you’re off again. Disgruntled and shouted annoyance from everyone in line echoes across the dull gray tile as you rush past them, yelling something about an emergency. You slam a turquoise door, sliding the silver latch with shaking fingers as your forehead rests on the cold material of the stall. You focus on breathing through your nose and out your mouth, this is fine. You’re fine.

A buzz in your pocket once, twice, and then a third time, and you don’t have to pull your phone out to know they’re texts from him. Despite your better judgment, you look:

It buzzes a fourth time and you lock the phone, debating just chucking it into the toilet.

The sleeve of your sweatshirt presses to your mouth as you clear your throat. No tears are falling for him, not today, not ever.

You hate Steve Harrington.

This was always the plan.

You hate Steve Harrington.

It’s not like you were in love with the guy.

Even as you think it, the panic turns to defense inside of yourself - scrounging around for rocks and bricks, reinforcing the wall around your heart you had started to let crumble for a boy you thought was worth it.

“Girl, what the hell?”

A familiar pair of red converse with writing and doodles covering any space they can, mirror your feet at the base of the stall. You step back, fingers hovering over the latch, ready to tell her it’s fine. Robin isn’t an idiot though, and you’re certain that despite your denial, she’ll take one look at you and make you spill your guts.

Her feet move closer, the familiar clink of rings meeting metal hits your ears, letting you know she’s pressing her palms to the door. Robin’s voice is softer and for one brief, horrible moment, you think she knows. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

The guilt that’s hovered over you for months like a storm cloud, releases, engulfing you completely, the promise of sunlight no longer on the horizon. Funny how just hours ago, you were thinking about Robin finally knowing, about how she couldn’t be mad, not when you were both so happy. Your gut twists. You’ve lied to your friend for so long, and for what?

“Just, um, cramps.” The lies keep on building, pushing at the dam you’ve created to keep it all from her. You’re just buying time now, the pressure is going to reach its breaking point soon and you’re worried your friendship with Robin will be washed away when it does.

At the mention of cramps, the disgruntled voices of those in line turn to understanding - muted solidarity in the form of tampon and painkiller offerings.

“Robin, why don’t you grab her some food or something? Maybe a ginger ale? I’ve got stuff in my bag and we’ll meet you all out there,” another familiar voice suggests.

“But I can-“

“That would be really great, Robs,” you interrupt her protest, pushing out the words to sound as eager as you can.

A pair of white tennis shoes sneak between Robin’s and the stall door - like Nancy is trying to put space between the two of you, shielding her girlfriend from any more of your lies.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Robin starts hesitantly, “I saw this gourmet grilled cheese stand thing and-“

“No!” Fingers curling over your mouth at the severity of your interruption, you take a beat before quietly continuing, “Uh, um, actually, just some chips please?”

Your eyes close, willing the memory of your last grilled cheese away. Now is not the time to remember the man you shared it with.

How he looked at you.

How he asked you to open up, how it made you feel when he said he knew you.

How he kissed you.

You hate Steve Harrington.

The initial shock has stopped sizzling and is now a full burn, anger releasing over your frazzled nerves. What else has Steve claimed, what other things could be ruined when all you can do is relate them to him? But as quickly as the anger for him forms, you have to glance down and realize there are three fingers pointing back at yourself.

Why did you give him the opening?

“Roger that, kitten!”

You’re sure she gives a salute to your closed stall door, the red sneakers turning on their heels, her footsteps fading away. The pristine white of Nancy’s twist slightly towards the door. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Can I come in there?”

Clearing your throat once more, you try to brush her off, “Nancy, really, I’m fi-“

“Bullshit.”

Maybe it’s the way she says the word - that a girl you don’t know all that well can see through your lies, be so sure you’re not fine. Maybe it’s because you desperately wish that you could have opened the door for Robin, to leave the football game and go drown in margaritas and dissect every little thing that led to this moment and let her tell you it was all going to be okay and boys are stupid. Or maybe, it’s the fact that you’ll never get to do that, never allowed to tell Robin, that makes you slide the latch unlocked for Nancy Wheeler.

She slips in quickly, her brown curls that are clipped in a half up-do bounce as she tilts her head quizzically at you. Her arms cross over the embroidered team logo on her sweatshirt, her blue eyes peer directly into your soul. She’s got this way about looking at you that, without saying anything, makes you want to tell her everything. An energy radiates off of Nancy, a quiet curiosity bubbling under the surface - or perhaps it’s frustration. You’re being studied, a puzzle she can’t crack.

Her lips twist as she clearly debates her words before she finally settles on a simple, “You didn’t know?”

Nancy’s question makes your stomach drop, solidifying that she not only knows about you and Steve, but that Leigh is not a new or unknown development. Your mind swirls to their argument on the beach, Nancy finding you in the bathroom - how long has Steve been seeing Leigh?

“No,” your response comes out in a half laugh, trying to cover up any feelings that attempt to sneak out and reveal too much. The toe of your sneaker scuffs at a knick in the tile as you avoid her eyes.

She tucks a curl behind her ear and sighs. Her face pinches into that quizzical look again, huffing, “He’s an idiot.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. You don’t want to dwell on how she connected the dots about you and Steve or how you’ve all been lying to Robin, and you especially don’t want her pity. “Nancy, I really don’t need you to comfort me. I’m fine. Can we just go?”

At the clamp of Nancy’s mouth shutting and the purse of her lips, you regret the icy tone almost immediately. Squeezing your eyes closed, you try again. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” trailing off because where do you even start? You’re mad, hurt, confused, blind-sided, the list could go on and on and you don’t care to reach the end at this moment. You force a smile, changing the subject all together, “Don’t you want to get out there and hear how incredibly little Robin truly knows about sports?”

Nancy’s lips twitch and her arms drop to her sides with a sigh. “Right, well, if you change your mind, I like to think I’m a pretty good listener if you ever want to talk about anything.”

Sometimes, people say things to say things - like they feel as if they’re supposed to say a certain thing when a certain situation calls for it. One look at the kindness in Nancy’s eyes, the small smile on her lips, and you know that is not the case right now. She genuinely, truly means she’s there to listen if you need it. Despite lying to all of them, despite barely knowing her, and the realization has tears forming behind your eyes for an entirely different reason than earlier.

“Thanks,” the word leaves you quietly. It feels small and inconsequential in return for a gesture you’re not even sure Nancy realizes the weight of.

That is, until she turns from the door, her hand hovering over the latch as she faces you again. “I should mention though, that one of you is going to have to tell Robin. Sooner rather than later. And I make no promises it won’t be me, but she should hear it from one of you.” Her tone is adamant with absolutely no room for arguing.

Your guilt tugs you down harder now, only able to nod in response.

Nancy’s head bobs once in return, silently agreeing to drop the subject unless you bring it up again, and she leads the way out of the bathroom.

You hear Robin before you see them. She’s passionately arguing her case about a new musical group that Eddie is scoffing at. Leigh holds her hand up at Eddie’s argument and begins agreeing with Robin, who beams before sticking her tongue out at him.

“Hey.”

The word freezes you and Nancy clears her throat as she makes her way towards the others. Steve pushes off from the brick wall as you turn to face him.

You’ve seen many looks in his eyes before now. When they glint with mischief and charm as he flirts, how they soften as you tell a story. When they’ve turned darker as clothes are shed and they get to roam freely over your body, taking you in like an artwork. How they seem to melt like honey all over you when you’ve found them staring and they don’t care to appear ashamed he’s been caught.

Now, they’re looking at you with far too much pain behind them that doesn’t seem fair. He shouldn’t get to look at you like that, he shouldn’t get to look sad.

Steve extends his hand, a green can with beads of condensation running down the sides of it in his palm. You ignore how your fingers touch and they way his try to linger as you take the soda from him.

When you don’t say anything, he pulls the sleeves of his maroon sweater over his fingers, the toe of his boot scuffing the pavement as his brows meet in the middle. Several pieces of hair fall over his forehead that’s wrinkled with concern, letting you know he’s run his hands through it too many times to have already broken whatever products he’s put in it.

“Can we go somewhere and talk for a sec?”

A sec.

A quick conversation, one he just wants to get over with. To tell you what? Things you’ve already concluded from his surprise today? That he’s with someone. He wants to stay friends. He never felt the way you were starting to feel for him. This was always the plan.

You’re not interested in anything Steve has to say any more.

“Game’s about to start, Harrington, maybe later.” Your tone is clipped and short, smile forced.

His brows pinch closer together as he tilts his head, the harsh line of his jaw flexing. “Really? Cause the way you ran off and that tone could have fooled me.”

“I’m fine, I don’t know exactly what you’re hearing, but if you have something you’d like to say, by all means Steve, let’s hear it.”

Steve closes his eyes and a long breath leaves his nose, “Please-“ his plea is cut off by her.

“Hi, I’m Leigh. It’s so nice to meet you, Steven’s told me so much about you! I hope everything is okay? Everyone was so worried…”

She reaches forward, arms wrapping around you and your stiffening body.

She’s fucking hugging you.

“Uh, yeah, you…too. And yes, thanks, I’m fine. This will help.” Untangling yourself from her, you hold up the can and force another smile. “Thanks Steven.”

Leigh beams at him, grabbing his hand and you just can’t help yourself, turning to him again. “Actually, Steven was just letting me know he had something to tell me, what was so important, buddy?”

Eddie coughs as Steve narrows his eyes. Nancy claps her hands, interrupting the tension filled moment, “Alright, ready guys?”

Robin points towards the bleachers. “I’m ready for tip off! To our seats!”

Nancy gives you a look, some sort of attempt at bringing light to the moment in front of her, before she wraps her hand around Robin’s arm and starts to walk away. “It’s kick off, hun.”

Leigh laughs as Robin lets out a long ‘Oh’, Steve and her following. When Steve glances back over his shoulder at you, the full can of soda meets the trash as you turn towards Eddie. Stealing the fresh beer from his hands, the plastic cup tips to your lips, foam slowing you down as you chug.

“Woah, woah, woah! Easy killer.” Eddie tugs on the cup, pulling it from your mouth. “From my understanding, football games are long and we need to pace ourselves. Stevie is not worth a two in the afternoon black out.”

Your mouth opens to protest and he waves his hand in front of your face, “Ah, ah, ah, you can squeeze my fingers or something whenever you feel like punching him instead.”

“Ed-“ you begin, adamant you need another drink (or twenty) to deal with the day you’re about to have.

He begins to walk away, waving his hand dismissively, “No really, I’m a secret masochist, I’ll love it.”

Your eyes narrow, hating the way your lips fight a smile that wants to meet his mood. Despite everything, you’re grateful for him and Nancy. Unsure of how to even attempt to show them how much you appreciate them. Especially after Nancy’s reminder that someone was going to have to tell Robin eventually, and these two had been lying for the both of you, keeping your secret when they didn’t need to.

Up ahead, you hear Leigh laugh, catching her head thrown back and his smile, the squeeze of her fingers on his bicep and you gulp. Your feet plant to the ground harder and you tug on Eddie’s wrist. As the group rounds the corner, heading to their seats, he turns to look at you with his eyebrows raised.

Eddie must see something in your expression because he mumbles, “Such a fucking idiot,” before he turns to the nearest vendor. “Yeah, hi, I need four very large beers. And I’m talking take your idea of large and triple it.”

This time the smile wins just a little. It’s quick to fall though, when Eddie taps his cup to one he hands you and proclaims, “If you can’t date ‘em, drink about ‘em. To the losers who break our hearts.”

“I-“ ready to tell him that’s not it at all, but his look makes your mouth close.

You don’t say it out loud, you don’t dare to speak it into existence - Eddie is wrong. You’re not broken hearted, you’re just mad Steve didn’t tell you. You’re mad that clearly they all knew, so why not you? That’s all.

Your cup taps Eddie’s again and you let the beer wash away the bitter taste in your mouth.

Screw Steve Harrington.

As the third cup of cheap beer hits your lips, you risk a glance down the line of your row again. Immediately regretting it like you have every other time. Leigh pushes the loose strand of hair on his forehead back and your eyes return to the field quickly. You’re sure your skin is turning just as green as the artificial turf, the beer making it a little easier to admit to yourself that you are jealous of the intimate moment. Your gut twinges slightly at the remembrance of only a few short weeks ago when you purposely tried to make him feel what you are now. You have no right to be mad at him.

The players blur as they move in an intricate dance only they know before anyone else. You’ve always liked sports, but today has been a good reminder as to why. Players and teams practice and memorize skills and plays that work - but there’s no guarantees. They need intuition to know when to use certain moves, to have a good defense and follow their gut and deviate from the plan when they think the other team is pulling a new play.

It’s all predictable, but not at the same time. Risks and playing with the odds, yet revolving around something incredibly low stakes like a ball in a net or getting past a painted line on fake grass. It’s also realistic. Sure, there are once in a lifetime passes like the Minnesota Miracle or a ball sinking into the net from a distance unfathomable as the final buzzer sounds - but most of the time, it’s just about who’s the best that day. Who ran faster, who slipped through someone else’s mistake. You like that the players can pour themselves into it and it’s still not going to be a win every time, because it’s just not sometimes, and that’s okay. They lose and they get up and they do it all over again. They also know that if they win, it doesn’t mean they’ll keep doing so without hard work and dedication.

Poetic to your circumstances, really. Steve was just better at the game, and you knew the eventual outcome of your deal with each other. So really, is there anyone to be mad at here other than yourself?

Steve’s laugh echoes down the line and your jaw clenches, because maybe Steve was better at the game, but he certainly wasn’t playing fair.

Yeah, you can still be mad at him.

Your eye twitches as Robin and Leigh gush over horror movies they both love, a breath you didn’t know you were holding leaving you when they head off together for a bathroom break.

His eyes actually burn your cheek from the way they stare down the row in your direction now that he doesn’t have her to focus on. Clear to you now that all you are - all you ever were - is an afterthought, something to pass the time.

Refusing to look his way, you try not to feel bad about the sigh you hear all the way from five seats away.

Oh, I’m sorry Steve, are you mildly upset that I don’t want to talk to you after you got me to open up just to blindside me?

You’re not surprised when a dark denim leg presses against your shoulder, his large brown boots landing on the open seat next to you as he climbs over. As he sits, you stand, quickly making your way down the row, occupying Robin’s empty seat on the other side of Nancy.

Steve stands, hands on his hips as he frowns. “Are you being fucking serious right now?”

Turning your attention back to the field, your knees bounce with restless energy, anticipating his next move. An intricate dance just like the players below you.

Steve climbs back over, and you can’t help but relish a little in his groan and mumbled comment about being twelve under his breath as you shimmy between Eddie and Nancy, shoving Eddie into your old seat, ignoring his grunted protests. Unable to help yourself, you smirk into your beer, watching out of the corner of your eye as Steve’s jaw clenches. Making him irritated seems only fair under the circumstances.

You’re ready for his next attempt, sure he’s going to make Nancy swap with him or come up behind you. So when he puts his foot on the chair, you move to the edge of your seat. Steve pounces, tumbling over the back of the row in front of you instead. He’s breathless, cheeks flushed pink as his hands land on the armrests of your spot. His arms cage you in as he leans over the back of the blue metal chairs, ignoring the grumbled complaints of those he bumped out of the way in his pursuit.

His face fills your vision, freckles that dot the sharp slope of his nose, the light scruff he’s let grow more highlight’s the angle of his jaw and the curve of his cupid’s bow. For a second you forget you’re supposed to be mad when you finally meet his eyes. They steal all of your attention and you hate that you can’t look away.

You hate him.

“We’re gonna talk,” he huffs, catching his breath.

“You should hit the gym.” A sad attempt to change the subject, to hurt him a little. Your eyes flit down to his lips in a mistake. You can’t look at his eyes again so you settle on his cheek, trying your best to ignore the endearing pair of freckles.

“I know you’re mad, and if you just let me explain, I-“

“You’ve had plenty of chances to explain before today Steve!”

The hush of the people around you makes your eyes close, taking a moment for a calming breath. Eddie coughs into his fist on your left and squints at the field, Nancy scratches the denim on her thigh and clears her throat on your right.

Steve’s eyes narrow, his top lip pulls in, tongue licking over it before he lets out a cold laugh, “Jesus Christ, what was I supposed to do, tell you while we’re fucking? Or how about after you told me about your parents? I-“

The beer in your hand splashes across his face as he coughs and sputters. His fingers wipe over his eyes and you stand, pushing past the gawking crowd and down the stairs.

Nancy and Eddie were right.

Steve Harrington is a fucking idiot.

You’d rode the train past your stop twice, both your airpods in and a look about you that dared anyone to even glance at you the wrong way. At the sight of the sun sinking past the horizon, you bite down on your cheek, willing your gut to stop twisting as it attaches a thing you love to him. Steve Harrington was not going to ruin sunsets for you, you draw the line at fucking grilled cheese and football.

The flick of your entryway lamp illuminates your place, the lyrics “You call me strawberry wine…” drift out of your airpod as you remove it from your ear. You’ve had enough of the universe’s poetic irony today. Tossing the case and your keys into their dish as you turn the lock on your door.

The sunset is the least of your worries, what didn’t he touch here? Your door, the coffee mugs he proclaimed as his favorites, the counter, the fire escape. You reach for the bottle of wine on top of your fridge as you click on the Instagram notification.

A caption reading ‘We just hope both teams had fun🏈 ’ below her photos. A selfie first, Robin’s bashful face filling the screen, getting her cheek kissed by Nancy. Another, this one with you - she must have caught it during bags - a shot of Eddie and you mid-laugh. The last one clearly taken after you left, the group in the stands, Steve’s sweater gone, replaced by a dry light blue t-shirt. You click your phone locked again and drink straight out of the bottle as you walk down the dark hallway. Old wood floors creak underneath your feet as you make your way to your room.

Fuck, your room.

It’s a moment that perhaps you should be crying during, do normal people cry when boys like Steve Harrington blindside them? When a man you start to break down for was spooning you fully clothed at the start of the day and getting a beer tossed in his face by the end, shouldn’t some sort of despair come out in the form of dramatic tears? Nothing leaves your eyes though as you strip the sheets off of your bed. Steve’s not worth any. No guy is.

Tugging harshly at the last corner of the fitted sheet with a frustrated grunt, you throw all of your bedding out into the hallway and slam the door. The flutter of paper on your desk as the door swings closed catches your eye, your chest tightens at the realization of what you left there.

The glow from the setting sun outside washes over the photobooth strip as you walk towards it, lit up in a perfect square of tangerine. Your thumb brushes the last photo as you pick it up, wondering how it all went so wrong, so fast.

It rips easier than maybe it should have, diminished to something small and as broken as you can make it before you toss it in the trash in your bathroom. Your eyes linger on the shower curtain and then your shampoo. The wine bottle presses to your lips again as you make a mental note, adding those to your list of things to replace tomorrow as well.

Your phone pings again, the group chat you’ve just been recently added to:

Your thumb presses the lock after turning it to silent, the dots from Robin appearing letting you know you don’t want to keep reading all of them talk. Your bare mattress stares at you as you drink more wine. They’re home. Together? In his apartment? In his bed?

It doesn’t matter, good for Steve, hope he’s happy. Good fucking riddance, right?

Opening your bedroom door, you sigh at the pile of bedding, stepping over it and making your way to your couch. Your protective wall is still standing, your armor dusted off and polished once more. It’s time to pick up the pieces, replace what’s broken, and move on from what others like Eddie may want to tell you is heartbreak, but you would argue is just called life.

And life is pain, and anyone who tells you differently is selling something, right?

Halloween season used to be one of your favorite times of the year. Parties and opportunities to dress up like someone you’re not. Evenings to be a character in a story far different than the one you were living, with lines already planned for you to say, an ending meticulously thought out. Now, however, the red fabric that clings to your body serves only as a reminder of how your life is the furthest thing from picture perfect.

Originally, when you found the dress thrifting with Robin, it had felt a little like fate. A tiny and gentle nudge from the universe in the right direction - a sign. Now, you’re sure it was actually some twisted joke. Someone, somewhere out there, is laughing it up as they play with you like a plastic doll. Because even meeting Robin, a thing you were positive was divine intervention, is now wrapped around him. Some evil force at work as they had you meet her, then him, while they cackled and said ‘Ha! Watch this! This one’ll be good.’

Your costume now a cruel oxymoron - a girl who resents love dressed as someone who cherishes it. Pretending to be a girl who loved a boy endlessly, so devoted, she claimed to die the day he supposedly did. A girl who-

“You know,” a finger pokes your cheek, “For a princess, your sour look is not very princessey.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at you, hands on her hips, orange fabric of her skirt swishing around her thighs as she turns. Her sparkly red turtleneck and shine of her black mary jane’s glint in the strobe lights that are making sweeps over the room.

You try to smile, if only for the fact that Nancy actually got her to wear the costume. Crossing your arms, your eyebrows raise as you respond, “Well, you must be a detective or something, Miss Dinkley.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but fights a smile, fiddling with the magnifying glass in her hands. When you don’t say anything more though, her big blue eyes soften as they glance up at you through fake glasses, and she reaches out and squeezes your shoulder. “Seriously, is everything okay? I feel like…” she trails off, shaking her head, at a loss for words it seems - an unusual thing for her.

The line for the bar shifts forward and you nod, that terrible feeling still sits heavy in your stomach like a bag of rocks - you’re weighed down, to be left at the bottom of your guilt to drown. “I’m fine, Robin,” it slips out when you repeat the words quieter, because maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true, “I’ll be fine.”

“Aha!” She points a finger in your face, “You just said be fine, implying something is in fact not fine currently and-“

“Robin,” your laugh is unconvincing even to yourself. You rub your temples as you face the bar. “Quit being a meddling kid.”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out with a little more bite than you intend and her mouth shuts quickly. It’s silent for only a few seconds though, before her shoulder bumps yours. Her question quiet, “How long were you waiting to use that one?”

Your head rests against her shoulder in a silent ‘I’m sorry’, hers against yours in an equally unspoken ‘You’re forgiven’ as you sigh. “Oh, just since you put on the costume.”

She hums and then lifts her head and faces you. “Last thing, and then I’ll drop it, I swear.”

Facing her, you swallow harshly as she stares at you with eyes that feel like they can see everything. Even more so when she says, “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but you’re important to me. And if there’s something going on…” she trails off before smiling sadly and continuing, “You can tell me, okay? You can open up and I’ll probably talk too much and offer too much advice, but comes from a place of love and-“

You hug her tightly, Robin wraps her arms around you just as fiercely as her sentence breaks off. Your response sticks in your throat, an alarming hope of ‘what if I told her?’ rising in you that you need to squash down quickly. She can’t know, despite Nancy’s warning that she should. If she did find out, you’re not certain she’d be on your side anyways. It was all your idea to lie to her, it’s selfish of you to ask her to comfort you in this situation.

Especially after you made her practically drag you to the party tonight. Eventually giving into her puppy dog pout (for a girl who easily falls for it, she has a pretty convincing one herself), your guilt all but consuming you at this point. You could put on a smile, a brave face - you could pretend to be someone you’re not, just tonight, and just for her.

You haven’t seen Steve since the football game, ignoring any sort of notification related to him in your phone. But in the process of trying to remove anything Steve from your life, you’ve removed Robin from it as well - a packaged deal. Each ignored message, each call you watched ring and left unanswered, every dodged lunch, were just more punches to your gut, pieces of your heart ripped off and stepped on. You missed Robin so much, one night out, forced to make small talk with him, was a fair price to pay for the deceit and lies - if it meant you got to see her again.

When you break away from the hug, it’s your turn for the bar finally. Both of your eyes widen at the sight of the specialty drink menu. ‘Bootini’s’ and things like a cocktail called ‘Vampire Kiss’ making both of you frown at the dollar signs next to each. You’re suddenly grateful for the tequila that’s still filling your stomach with warmth and Eddie’s insistence on taking the shots before leaving Nancy’s.

“They do have like, a regular bar, right? Cause your girl is on a budget and…” your sentence trails off as Robin smiles at something, someone, over your shoulder.

“Well, there isn’t much money in revenge.”

His voice alone is enough to make your shoulders go up, to cause your stomach to twist, but when you spin to see him, you know it’s not the tequila making the room feel fuzzy and your stomach heave.

He can’t be serious.

He is not wearing that. He’s not.

“Come up with that all by yourself, did ya?” Robin pats Steve’s shoulder and before he can reply she’s holding up a hand in front of his face, letting out a low whistle. “Hoolly cooww.” She motions for Leigh to spin who blushes and laughs, but obliges as Robin keeps going, “Miss Morticia Addams, if you wanna ditch Dingus here…”

Steve puts his hands on his hips, an edge to his tone you may have found amusing if it wasn’t because of his best friend hitting on his girlfriend. “Seriously, Robin? Are you being serious right now? Where’s Nancy?”

Robin rolls her eyes at him and Leigh laughs more, squeezing his shoulder. “I should be the one saying holy cow! Look at you two! Y/N, where did you find that dress?”

God, you hate that she’s nice.

Her dress is phenomenal. The low cut, black fabric that hugs her curves and drapes over her flattering in a way it simply wouldn’t be on you. She’s got the perfect gauzy sleeves, the rings and red lips and nails, she’s even got a rose and scissors in her hand.

You hate that you want to like this girl.

Your smile is tense, “I, uh-“

The bartender clears her throat and you point, saved by the bell, turning your back on the group. A name of one of the drinks leaves your lips and you’re vaguely aware of Robin saying something about finding the others and to not order her something with whiskey in it because he remembers what happened last time.

The deep breathing through your nose is a sad attempt for composure when you get a longer chance to take Steve in. Even with the dim bar lighting, the mirror behind the shelf of various liquors gives you a perfect view. You’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or punch him.

Steve’s dressed in all black, head to toe, the v-cut of the flowy top revealing quite a bit of his dark chest hair and you swallow, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter. You always hated how Buttercup couldn’t tell it was Westley, in fact, you hate it in any movie when a character has a mask over their eyes and suddenly everyone is unable to tell who they’re dancing with, hell who’s kissing them. If anything, the black band of fabric across his face only makes the lips below and the eyes underneath it stand out more - the curve of his top lip you can still feel under your tongue. The colors of his iris’ so distinctly Steve that you’d recognize anywhere - instead of a sea after a storm, a forest. He really went all out, even his scruff shaved to have a thin mustache, he’s wearing the black cap pushing down his normally styled and perfectly messy hair, and when you glance down, you’re not surprised to find matching pirate boots standing next to you.

His hand reaches across your chest with a matte black card - that kind that isn’t glossy like a normal one and you quickly hand the bartender crumpled bills instead, earning a sigh from Steve.

“You’re not seriously wearing that.” Weeks of no contact, and you hate that your voice doesn’t come out strong and confident when that’s all you can think to say.

Risking a glance his way, you find his eyes are already on you, his jaw clenching before he asks, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Your inhale is sharp - how can he be this cruel? How can he act like that costume means nothing, or like the last few weeks weren’t awful? Weren’t they awful for him? To go from talking almost every day to nothing?

“Are you fucking kidding me Steve? After everything, after what you said at the game, you’re really gonna stick to not admitting what this is?” Gesturing up and down his body as you ask. He truly can’t be this much of an asshole, he can’t-

Steve shrugs. “I’m just a pirate. I don’t know what your problem is.”

Turns out, he can be.

Before you can even start to formulate something nasty to respond with, a person walking by shouts out, “Oh nice! As you wish, dudes!” Clapping Steve’s shoulder as they waltz past like it’s the 90’s and people still say ‘dudes’ to strangers.

Dude did just make your point for you at least, though.

You hold your hands out to the retreating body in a show of ‘see?’ and then childishly flip Steve off. “The case rests, your honor.”

“It was last minute and I didn’t-”

His weak and pathetic attempts at excuses fall on deaf ears as you push your way through the crowd towards the beacon of red neon announcing an exit for this god forsaken bar.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, but you don’t think it is - screw Steve Harrington for ruining a fucking bar, for ruining the word dude, for ruining The Princess Bride, for ruining everything.

Screw everything.

The sting of rejection and the quiet anger that’s been sitting at a simmer since the game rests over an open flame now. Your insides quickly grow to a rapid boil. Apathy and anger rage for the top spot as everything you’ve tried to keep under a lid steams, ready to overflow and burn.

Ignoring the calls of your name, something still makes it past your seeing red rampage of an exit, connecting the voices, aware of Steve saying something to someone, but you can’t really find it in yourself to care who or what. The cool air hits your body as you push outside, stinging against the damp skin under your eyes.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, his voice quiet, “Y/N-“

“Don’t touch me, Steve,” you warn, taking a step backwards after yanking your shoulder from under his fingers. Your hands balled into fists as you spin to look at him.

He runs a hand through his now uncovered hair, face fully revealed without a mask too. He watches you closely, his voice gentle, as he raises his hands up, “Look, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You can-“

“You don’t get to check on me anymore, or worry about if I’m okay, you’re not my boyfriend,” your tone scathing.

Steve’s gaze bounces over your face, his jaw hardens as the vein in his forehead dances. Somehow his voice is soft despite the bite to it, “Yeah, I know. You’ve made that perfectly clear. But I am your friend, and I -“

Your laugh causes him to break off. You gesture inside and then to his outfit. “Friends don’t treat each other this way, Steve.”

He drags his palms down his face, his own disbelieving laugh echoes against the brick of the bar. “Are you kidding me? I have been nothing but your friend! I am sorry about what I said at the game, but really, when was I supposed to tell you? And this costume…I…” He shakes his head, licking his lips as he takes a step closer to you. “Look. I should have told you about Leigh sooner, but if you would have given me five minutes to-“

“Five minutes. A sec.” Your hands move in quotation marks as you recall the conversation he wanted to have at the game too. Your face pinches into an irritated scowl as your hands drop in front of you, palms open. Exasperation laced around your words, “What the fuck is there to explain anymore, Harrington? You’re dating her and you didn’t tell me - the story is over.”

Steve stands just in front of you now, that gravitational pull at silent work again, even weeks apart unable to switch it off. Your bodies move with each other, your voices rise in sync, your chests fall with shared breaths. A different sidewalk, that same feeling of flight or fight, but you know that it’s too late this time. Even turning the heat off isn’t going to fix the damage that’s been done.

Another laugh huffs out of him, “You’d like that, right? That’s it, case closed. Y/N calls the shots and decides everything.” He shakes his head and points to his chest, towering over you, “This is all such total bullshit. You’re mad at me for something that was your idea, because you didn’t get to decide when it was over.” He shrugs, waves of nonchalance carrying his words through the air to hit you hard like a slap across the face. “You’re a spoiled brat who’s mad because you’ve lost a toy.”

Any maturity you attempted to have towards the situation has evaporated.

“Me? The spoiled brat? Excuse me, Mr. 50th floor and Daddy’s Credit Card. Take a look in the fucking mirror, Steve!”

Your chests almost touch with each ragged breath as his hands run through his hair and he pulls. A frustrated groan at your words, while the volume at which his come out becomes louder, “I’ve got plenty of fucking mirrors, why don’t you take your own advice! You’re a hypocrite. You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you? Tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you didn’t ask me for this arrangement. Tell me that the words ‘no feelings’ and ‘just sex’ didn’t leave your mouth. Tell me what you have to be upset with me for then!”

Your chin quivers at his words, the truth of them daring the tears behind your eyes to fall.

Steve gulps, his fingers dance on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. His eyes shine with his own held back tears, like he regrets how he said it but not that he did. His voice quiets as he pleads, “Tell me.”

He doesn’t get to look at you like that. He doesn’t get to say those things to you and then look at you like that.

What happened last time Steve Harrington asked you to open up and tell him something?

Tequila lingers on your tongue, aiding in the formation of words that are meant to sting - you want to hurt him like he’s hurting you. You bite down on your jaw, the anger and pain ready to fall down your cheeks as you remove yourself from him.

Your hands press against his chest, “You’re bullshit. This is bullshit.” A small shove as you practically growl the next words, “I’m a hypocrite? How about the fucking bathroom at that party where you told me I couldn’t have it both ways, but then you’re dating someone while getting all jealous?” Another shove, this time his fingers brush your wrists, a halfhearted attempt to get you to stop. “Begging me to open up to you? For fucking what, Steve? This costume? You…” you close your eyes and let your hands drop, letting the words do all the work now, “You’re a liar. You’re an asshole.”

Steve’s head ducks down, his fingers brushing his nose before he rolls his shoulders back. When his mouth opens, you step backwards, shaking your head.

“Lose my number, Steve.”

His eyes roam over your face, waiting, searching. He only nods once and takes his own step back.

“As you wish.”

Your breath sucks in sharply, a sob you’ve been holding in since the moment he said the words ‘Sorry we’re late’ threatens to finally crack out of your chest. You wish you had another beer to toss in his face for using those words at this moment.

It’s not said with the kind of reverence of the movie. There isn’t a narrator to let you know what he actually means by the phrase. But you know. It’s not an ‘I love you’, not like this. No, it’s merely a promise to do as you asked.

All you can do is turn away from him, hold your chin up and roll your shoulders back as you walk down the sidewalk.

There is no hopeful glance back over your shoulder, no loud smacks against the pavement made by his feet chasing after you like in the movies.

Like you said, your story is over.

'One New Voicemail':

“Hey, just thought I’d try ya, I know you’ve been busy. Um, well, Steve and I are heading to the Rocky Horror show tonight and I know he’d love someone to aid in his teasing of how totally into it I get. Right Steve?”

[muffled sounds of movement and whispers]

“Hm…yeah, I uh-”

[a clear smack to his shoulder]

“It feels like forever since I’ve seen you or we’ve done something just the three of us! Anyways, call me back, text me…beep me if you wanna reach me…ugh, sorry that was so lame, okay bye. Love you!”

If you were surviving before them, you could survive without them. It seemed simple enough.

You’ve never stayed in one place for long, friendships like Robin, Eddie, and Nancy had been left before. Friendships that were never given a chance to really even start before you were gone. The promise of any relationships packed into boxes and off to the next city. Addresses and phone numbers and notes of ‘Keep in touch’ left to collect dust until forgotten about completely.

So, it should have been easy to continue to ignore their messages. To ignore the holes in your chest, to ignore the want to call or text one of them when something happened as mundane as a stranger calling another stranger ‘toots’ in your mailroom. If Steve touched things in your life and now caused them to wilt in your memories and sights, the other three made things bloom. They breathed life into you again.

You weren’t going to let Steve Harrington take something like that away from you.

Which is why you found yourself curled into your father’s sweater for courage, walking down the sidewalk towards the cemetery with a promise to meet them there.

Orange and brown leaves crinkle underfoot before they blow across the pavement. The moon is full, the sky that deep indigo it seems to only get this time of year. Both a perfect backdrop for the bare trees that dance in the wind and the blocks lined with homes with glowing porch lights. Orange buckets overflowing with candy rush past in a blur, laughter and squeals of children echoing down the street past you.

As you make it to the black iron fence, your eyes roam the blankets and patrons occupying them in the park next to the cemetery. Apple and brown sugar meet your nose and you take special note of the mini donut booth attached to the scent. Which is where you see Eddie, shoving two in his mouth and rolling his eyes at Nancy. He spots you and grins around the sugary dough, nudging the shoulder to his right and nodding in your direction.

Robin spins and you see her shoulders visibly fall and a grin spread across her face. She says something to the other two who head in the direction of the blankets and she races through the crowd. Muffled oofs and sorry’s meet your ears as she dodges and spins around people balancing concessions.

You reach the front of the line, a sandwich board proudly displaying the original ‘The Evil Dead’ poster sits next to an older woman on a stool at the gate. She smiles at you, holding a flashlight towards the ground. “Ticket, dear?”

“Rose! Rose, she's my girl!” Robin shouts, breathless as she makes it to the gate.

“Oh!” The elderly woman smiles wider, ushering you through, “Have fun ladies! Tell Edward I’m still waiting for my hot chocolate.”

“Yes ma’am.” Robin salutes with two fingers and then grabs you in a hug. “Jesus Christ I missed you!” Her voice is loud and she shrinks in your arms as the lights of the booths go out and the crowd surrounding you turns and shushes. Her voice shifts to a whisper, “Whoops. Come on, we’re towards the back and we still have all the commercials to chat without too many nasty looks.”

Robin holds your arm in a death grip, a silent promise to not let you out of her sights and clutches so long as she can help it again it seems. When you reach the blanket, Nancy and Eddie’s conversation stops abruptly and their smiles seem painted on as they look up at you.

It’s one of those moments, those silences that are too stilted and too abrupt, letting you know exactly what was being discussed just seconds before. You wave a little, ears burning since you have no doubt about who the subject of their interrupted conversation was.

“Eddie,” Robin begins, huffing as she falls to their cushy spot with extra blankets, trays of drinks, and several bags of sweets littered around them, “Rose is fiending.”

“Oh shit!” Ducking and wincing when someone turns around and glares at him. He grabs one of the cups with a big R on top and squeezes your shoulder as he stands, “Be right back! Glad you came!”

Sitting as Robin pats his now empty spot next to her. “Can I get you anything? We have cocoa and cider, donuts, popcorn, candy corn, caramel corn, basically any kind of corn and-“

“Robin,” Nancy hums, almost singing, as she sips from a cup. She squeezes her fingers. “You have to actually take a breath to let her respond.”

“I’ll never say no to a cider or donut,” you point to the items with a laugh.

Robin grabs them and hands it to you. She whacks pillows and squishes around, rolling and frowning and readjusting.

Eventually, she sighs, content, and grabs Nancy’s hand and then a donut from your bag and knocks it against one in your fingers before taking a bite.

“Happy?” Nancy asks as Robin hums around the sugar she licks off of her lips.

“You know it. Only thing that would make tonight better is…” she trails off with a grin.

You take her words as a warning to look around, wondering where he is and mentally preparing yourself.

Nothing could have prepared you though.

It happens quickly and yet not at the same time.

Your head turns to see them walking hand in hand. A swing of fingers as they walk past twinkling lights, the breeze blowing her hair perfectly.

Nancy says “Shit,” under her breath as she sits up. When you turn to look at her with a frown, she opens her mouth but no words come out.

The movie starts.

Eddie slows down as he makes his way back towards the blanket, looking at Nancy then over his shoulder then back at you.

Robin waves her arm too much and you turn to look again, trying to figure out what you’re not getting.

Steve’s eyes meet yours and he stops, tripping over his own shoe.

Leigh waves and something sparkles on her hand in the moonlight.

Robin beams and squeezes your wrist. “Oh my gosh I can’t believe they actually came! I figured with the whole engagement thing they wouldn’t. Now it’s all officially perfect. All my favorite people together on my favorite day.”

Plot twist: Steve Harrington is engaged.

WCIL taglist:

@loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3 @scoopshxrrington @live-the-fangirl-life @eddiesguitarskills @mannstarkey @keepingitlokiii

#steve harrington #modern!steve harrington #modern!steve #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #we'll call it love

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rhoorl · 3 months

Text

Turbulence | Part 4

Pairing: Frankie x reader (will turn into an OFC)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link

Word Count: 7k (sorry!)

Summary: The conclusion of this little arc. These two enjoy the rest of their weekend.

Warnings: MDNI. Alternating POVs. Some angst and some fluff. Nervous Frankie. Allusion to a previous bad relationship (infidelity). Swearing. Unprotected P in V. Oral (f receiving - duh, it’s Frankie).

A/N: Apologies for the delay! This ended up being a lot longer than I intended. I thought about breaking this up into two parts but I think it’s just better as one. This is my first time writing Frankie smut so I’m a bit nervous (although it's not the main focus of this chapter).

“Ok and if we can get one more with the whole bridal party!”

Bless the photographer and her assistant because wrangling this group is akin to herding cats.

“Your boy here yet?” Ash muttered through their smile as we all posed for a series of shots.

“Yup, just got a text,” I said, trying to conceal my smirk as Ash slapped me on the ass.

“Hell freaking yeaaaah!”

Once we finished with the photos, I walked up to Carol and hugged her. She told me to have fun and gave me a knowing look, confusion etched on Dave’s face. Truth be told, her reassurance made me feel better about slipping out.

I spotted Mom and Aunt Lydia already at the bar, so I told Ash to cover for me should they ask where I went.

“Have fun!” Ash winked as I grabbed my things and made my way out of the venue, trying to keep a steady pace when all I wanted to do was sprint out of there so I could see him.

Frankie didn’t quite know what he should do. Get out of the truck, walk up to the aquarium, and wait? Stay put in his truck? Seeing a couple of men dressed in suits smoking outside, he suddenly remembered how casually he was dressed and felt a bit self-conscious. It didn’t feel right to just sit in his truck scrolling on his phone waiting for her; it made him feel like he was just there with one thing in mind…although that was on his mind.

He took a deep breath and decided to get out of the truck, figuring he’d stand in front of it and lean onto the hood as he waited. It only took a few moments before he saw her walking out of the building with a bag in tow. His breath caught in his throat seeing her in person again.

“Hey,” she raised her hand for a small wave as she scurried across the parking lot toward him.

“Hey,” his hands twitched at his sides as he pushed himself off the truck. It only took a few steps to close the distance between them. When he reached out she slotted perfectly into his arms, just like she did at the airport. He breathed in her scent, feeling her arms tighten around his neck.

He pulled back, appreciating her beauty while trying to be respectful. He couldn’t help as his gaze quickly flitted down her body before finding her eyes which he loved so much. She twirled the ends of his curls between her fingers as he softly chuckled, “You…look beautiful. Way better than the picture.” She feigned offense and giggled as Frankie tried to recover. “Shit, I mean, the picture was nice…it was great…fuck…” he shook his head. “Can I start over?”

“I know what you meant Frankie, I’m just giving you a hard time,” her nose crinkled as her arms trailed down his shoulders, rubbing his biceps.

“Ha oh,” he blushed.

“So…BB-8 huh?” She pulled at the hem of his T-shirt.

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Another one of Pope’s ideas….so, you ready to head out? You sure you’re ok to leave, I don’t want some bridezilla coming after me.”

“No, Frankie, it’s all good. So…I believe we were between pizza and burgers right?”

“Yup…your choice.”

“Hmm,” he couldn’t help but notice how cute her nose looked scrunched up in thought. “I think pizza.”

“Perfect, I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” he winked. “You need to change or anything,” he motioned to her bag.

“Oh, nah…I paid a shit ton for this dress, I’m keeping it on as long as I can.”

Frankie coughed as his throat went dry. He knew she meant that innocently but his mind wandered and he could feel his face getting red.

“You ok, Frankie?”

“Um...y-yeah…all good. Here get in,” he walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

I couldn’t get over how cute he looked…and hot…I can’t forget that part. Hugging him felt like I was being embraced by the coziest blanket and it took everything in me to let go.

By all accounts, Frankie was still a stranger to me and here I was getting into his truck and going who knows where. I’ve spent far too many hours listening to true crime podcasts to know all of the red flags dotting this situation. But with Frankie, I felt…safe. I really can’t describe it other than it’s just a feeling.

He said he had a place in mind but it was a bit of a drive. Honestly, he could have told me we were driving the few hours to Miami and I would have been fine with it. He was so easy to talk to and I loved watching him drive. My eyes tried to not linger on his hand gripping the steering wheel as I took note of how thick his fingers were.

He filled me in on his day which included a cast of characters that sounded like they were plucked out of a TV show. I loved hearing him laugh and the way his eyes crinkled as he talked about his friends was adorable. We were so engrossed in conversation that I hadn’t realized we were on the causeway until we were about halfway across the water.

“Are we going to Clearwater?” I looked over at him, a little sly smirk coming across his face.

“Yeah…shit, I didn’t even ask if it was ok to go this far. Sorry, I-”

“Frankie,” I reached over and put my hand on his arm, “it’s ok. I just hadn’t been paying attention to where we were,” I chuckled, my hand running down his forearm to rest on top of his hand on the center console. I quickly patted it, wincing internally at my awkwardness, and returned my hand to my lap.

We sat in comfortable silence as I stared out the window taking in the views. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frankie bite his lip as he moved his right hand to hover over my leg. He hesitated for a moment and then rested his hand just above my knee. It felt like an electric current went through my body – not only was he touching me but his hand was close to my…

“Is this ok?” He turned his head giving me the most adorable puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “This is ok, Frankie,” I put my hand on top of his, rubbing circles with my thumb. He started to visibly relax and it made me feel warm.

We spent the rest of the way chatting about random things, his hand firmly planted on my leg. I could tell he was starting to feel more comfortable when his hand traveled up and down my thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. I wished I didn't have all of the fabric on because I yearned to feel his rough calloused hands on my skin.

There was this intriguing duality to him. On the one hand, I knew these hands could exact some level of violence. I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t realize that he’s probably severely hurt people before. But at the same time, there was a softness to his touch, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. I felt a slight shiver as his fingers skimmed across the satin of my dress. As strong and capable as his hands were at piloting an aircraft I imagined they were equally capable of pulling countless pleasures too. The thought made me squirm a bit as I tried to steady my breath.

“You ok?” He turned his head to look at me.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ok good, we’re almost there.”

Next thing I knew, we pulled up to some hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that he swore up and down was the best pizza on the West Coast of Florida. I caught some funny looks thanks to my floor-length gown from the guy behind the counter who I learned was the owner. He and Frankie knew each other so we jumped the line of to-go orders waiting to be made.

In no time at all Frankie scooped up a bag full of styrofoam containers along with a pizza box. We stopped off at a convenience store to grab a six-pack of beer…again my overly formal attire drew some heads from the casual locals and swimsuit-clad tourists.

Once we had everything, Frankie reassured me we were close to our ultimate destination but I was in no rush. When he finally backed into our parking spot, he looked over and stopped me as I started to unbuckle my seatbelt. “Can you stay here for a sec…please?”

I cocked my head to the side, curious what he was up to. “Sure…”

“Ok cool…don’t go eating the garlic knots yet,” he quipped. “And ah…close your eyes. I’ll be quick I promise.”

I smirked as I closed my eyes, straining to hear what he was up to. He opened the back door, some rustling as he found something before closing the door. The truck rocked a bit. Eventually, I heard the crunch of gravel underneath his boots as he opened my door.

“Ok, you can open your eyes.”

My eyes fluttered open as he reached for the food I was guarding in my lap. He offered his hand to help me get out of the truck.

“What do you have up your sleeve?” I raised my eyebrows.

He led me around the truck and I felt the butterflies start to flutter around in my stomach. There was a maroon and white plaid blanket laid across the bed of his truck. It was a bit tattered and looked like it had seen better days. At the back, there were two matching pillows.

“It’s not fancy, but I figured we could eat and watch the waves. The sunset is the best here.” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, rocking a bit from side to side as he looked down at his feet.

My breath hitched as I took it all in. This was such a sweet gesture and I was honestly impressed by the thought.

“Is this ok? Sorry, if I had more time I would have…”

“This is perfect.”

He looked up at me with the sweetest smile and offered his hand for me to climb in.

“You looking for an excuse to check out my ass Frankie?” I smirked, noticing his blush as I hopped up, shuffling in and putting one of the pillows behind me as I rested against the back of the truck.

Frankie followed, crawling up to sit next to me. He grabbed a couple of bottles from the six-pack, twisting off the tops and handing one of them to me, “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“Sorry, it’s not cold..”

“Frankie, stop apologizing. This is…perfect. I just wanted to see you again, it didn’t matter what we were doing, so this is icing on the cake.

I could see the tension leaving his body as he made quick work of laying out all of the food. It was quite the spread and definitely too much for just the two of us. We chatted and grazed and things never felt awkward, even during those quiet moments. It also wasn’t lost on me that Frankie had drifted closer and closer to me. His outstretched leg now pressed up against mine, I could feel the heat radiating between us and all I wanted to do was curl up next to him.

As the sun set, I felt a wave of melancholy wash over me. It suddenly hit me how finite time was this weekend. The sun chasing the horizon was a visual of the hourglass in my mind counting down the hours I had left in this dream.

“Hey, you alright?” Frankie reached for my hand as he turned to face me.

I nodded, managing a weak smile.

Frankie felt like he was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, he wanted to spend more time with her and see where this night was headed. But at the same time, he wanted time to stand still because the more hours they spent together the closer they were to her inevitable departure.

It felt like a cruel joke. The moment he starts to feel…something…anything…and it’s a situation with logistics. Distance hadn’t worked well for him in the past seeing as how his ex’s cheating started while he was away on a mission.

For so long he blamed distance for the demise of their relationship. In hindsight, he knew there were more issues than just the time apart, but it still was a reason. If he had a job that didn’t force him to be gone for months at a time on covert, highly classified missions maybe things would have been different. If he had picked a line of work that didn’t give him nightmares and so much anxiety that he had to resort to increasingly dangerous ways to silence the voices maybe things would have been different. If he wasn’t so fucked up every time he was home he would have seen the warning signs long before…

Frankie had been so caught up in his own spiral that he hadn’t noticed her energy shift. She too looked deep in distant thoughts of her own.

“Hey, you alright?” He turned, reaching for her hand to ground himself in her touch.

She nodded and he could tell she was putting on a brave face. He wished he knew the right thing to say but he was so conflicted. This was too good to be true right? It was clearly destined for failure because things this good didn’t happen to him. He’d done too many bad things in his life to be rewarded with someone like her.

But as he searched her eyes, he felt a sense of comfort. He couldn’t explain it. So much of this whole situation seemed ripe for heartbreak but he couldn’t stop the freefall he was in. There was a sliver of hope that this … that she…may have been worth it all.

His eyes trailed down to her lips and his palms twitched because he so desperately wanted to kiss her. To hold her close to him for fear she’d disappear. His mind quickly cycled through thoughts of what kinds of sounds he’d be able to pull from her, how she’d taste, or how her body would look writhing underneath him.

Our gazes stayed locked on each other for what felt like an eternity. We were both nervous to make a move. But as Frankie’s mouth curled up into a small half smile I saw the cutest dimple form and leaned forward without thinking too much about it. Our lips met and the kiss was soft and a bit tentative, like we were both seeking permission from one another. He pulled back, looking down and swallowing hard before his eyes rose to meet mine.

“Was that ok?”

“Yeah Frankie,” I whispered.

“Ok, good,” he cupped my face as he smiled into another kiss.

It didn’t take long before his tongue licked along my bottom lip, prompting me to open my mouth for him. I could still feel him holding back a bit, so I wanted to show him it was ok. I lightly nipped his lower lip before taking it between my teeth for more of a tug. As he let out a low growl, my hands rested behind his neck, twirling the chocolate curls that peeked out from beneath his cap. I forgot where I was and swung my leg over to straddle him as his hands came to my hips. His grip tightened as I let out a small moan, slightly rocking into his lap. In the distance, some whoops and whistles broke us out of our little bubble.

“Looks like we have company,” Frankie smirked, motioning behind me with his chin while adjusting his hat.

I slowly turned, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I remembered we were in public. A group of teenagers waved back at us snickering and whistling. I immediately turned around, burying my face into Frankie’s neck as he laughed. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot where we were for a sec.”

I could feel the laugh in Frankie’s chest as I stayed nuzzled against him, the stubble of his beard running along my hairline as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

“How about we um….get out of here?” I couldn’t even say it without laughing. “I’m sorry that sounded so cheesy!”

“It’s ok…if you weren’t going to say it I was,” he winked. “C’mon,” he tapped my hip, “let’s get you back.”

The closer Frankie got to her hotel, the more his anxiety spiked. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he desperately wanted the night to keep going. Kissing her felt like a fog clearing and she was the sun shining through it.

He kept his hand on her thigh the whole ride back, again grounding himself in the fact that she was real. As he pulled into the hotel, she reached for his hand. “D’you wanna drop it off with valet?”

“Um, yeah sure….ah…” Frankie blushed at his next thought before he shook his head and decided to just go for it. “How long am I staying?”

“As long as you want,” she leaned over and kissed the bare patch in his beard, sending an electric pulse down his body.

A valet came up on either side of the truck, opening the doors.

“Hi sir, ah checking in?” The young man asked as he took Frankie’s keys.

“Ah no, put it on room 1802,” she called from the other side of the truck as the valet wrote it down on a slip and handed it to Frankie.

“Oh one sec,” Frankie opened the back door, pulled out a backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. “Ok.”

I narrowed my eyes as Frankie rummaged through the back seat of his truck and pulled out a backpack. It made me wonder - is this something that he does a lot?

He seemed to sense my confusion as he came around the truck and took my hand to lead me through the lobby. “I ah, I stay at my friends’ house a lot, so I started keeping a backpack with a change of clothes,” he laughed.

“So you were tired of doing the walk of shame from your friends’ house huh?” I quipped as we made it over to the elevators.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” he grinned, that little dimple making another appearance.

We got in the elevator with a few others. Frankie held me in front of him, one hand on my hip as he quickly shot a text off.

“Texting Pope, you know…in case something happens he knows where I am,” he laughed as I feigned offense. “It’s not every day I go to a beautiful woman’s hotel room,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath making goosebumps form on my skin.

Frankie felt like he was on the longest elevator ride of his life. As he held her in his arms, he couldn’t help but discreetly press himself closer to her. When they finally reached the 18th floor, she led him by the hand to her suite, dropping it briefly as she fished out her room key.

“Presidential Suite huh,” he raised his eyebrows, looking impressed.

“I decided to treat myself,” she said as she led him into the living room. She dropped his hand and walked over to the large windows. “I didn’t realize I would have such a pretty view.”

“Neither did I,” he was right behind her, his breath ghosting down her neck, trailing soft, open-mouth kisses to her shoulder. His hands lightly caressed the straps of her dress.

I instantly wanted his hands and mouth everywhere at the same time. I leaned my head back against his shoulder as he kissed just below my ear. He pressed himself closer to me and I could feel him already getting hard which instantly made me tingle with anticipation. I shifted a bit to press my thighs together as he ran his nose to the back of my neck, trailing kisses down to the zipper of my dress.

“I’m glad you’re still in this,” he said against my skin, his hands wrapping around my middle.

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I wanted to be the one to take it off. I’ve been thinking about what’s underneath all day.”

I felt his length twitch as he said that, making me shiver. I turned my head to look back at him as he lifted his gaze, his eyes dark. “Well, go on,” I smirked.

“Yes ma’am.” He started to undo the zipper, kissing down my neck as more of my skin was unveiled until I was standing there in my underwear.

I turned in his arms, pulling off his hat, dropping it to the floor as our lips found each other again. His arms drew me in, pressing me flush against him.

“You're so beautiful,” he managed to say between kisses, continuing to whisper more sweet things as I walked us back to the bedroom.

Before I knew it, I felt the back of my thighs meet the mattress. I sat on the bed to undo his belt and work on getting his jeans off. My mouth watered as my eyes followed the trail of hair from his navel down to his tented boxers. As I went to hook my fingers into the waistband, he cupped my chin and tilted my face up.

“We can get to that, there’s something I want to do first,” his tongue swiped along his lower lip as he sank to his knees in front of me. “Is this ok?”

I nodded, “Y-yeah.” It had been a long time since I’d been intimate with anyone so I was feeling equal parts excited and nervous.

He gave me the warmest smile as he brought his hands to rest on my thigh. He leaned up and kissed me, pushing me backward as his mouth blazed a trail down my body, making a couple of pit stops along the way. He stilled as he hovered over my belly button.

His stubble tickled and I couldn’t help the giggles, clasping a hand over my mouth. The giggles were quickly silenced with a gasp as I felt his fingers curl underneath my underwear. I lifted my hips to help him work them off. The nerves suddenly kicked into high gear as I was left exposed.

Frankie sucked in a breath as I strained to look down between my thighs. What I saw was a man taking me in like I was the finest piece of art he’d ever seen. His eyes scanned all over as he brought his hands to my thighs, pushing my legs wider.

“F-Frankie…if…if you don’t touch me I think I’m going to explode,” I giggled, gripping the sheets in anticipation.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he tutted with a pout which quickly turned into a smile. “Relax, mi cielo, I’m going to make you feel good.”

And holy shit he wasn’t lying. His tongue licked up my folds before finding its home on my clit with soft and steady undulations. I shuddered, tightening my grip on the sheets as his broad shoulders pushed my legs even further apart. I clenched my eyes shut, back arching as he picked up the pace.

He murmured his praise as he continued to work me over. I lifted onto my elbows, catching him looking up at me through his eyelashes as he continued his feast. My eyes rolled back as he changed the pattern his tongue used to trace around me. I reached down to his hair, grabbing a fistful of hair and tightening my grip to bring him so close I worried for a split second that I may suffocate him. But that worry quickly dissipated as I heard him moan into me, his grip on my thigh no doubt leaving a bruise as his other arm laid across my stomach.

I bucked up into him, riding this wave of pleasure. I’d been with partners who enjoyed going down on me in the past, but I’d never experienced someone devouring me with this much enthusiasm and reverence. The hand on my stomach start to trail upwards, cupping my breast through the fabric of my bra. I wanted, no I needed, to feel his hand on my skin so I quickly reached back to unclasp the garmet and flung it off the bed.

He brought both hands to palm my breasts, his thumbs brushing across my pebbled nipples. I snuck another look down and the image of my legs draped around his broad shoulders, his messy curls bobbing up and down was nearly enough to send me over the edge. I whimpered as he pulled off briefly to catch his breath, looking at me with a smirk as he grabbed the back of my thighs and brought me closer to him.

A few more flicks of his tongue as he groaned into me was all I needed as I tumbled head first into a sea of pleasure. He stayed with me as I worked myself down from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had. As I laid panting, legs splayed out and my body feeling boneless, he nuzzled against my thigh and kissed it.

“Fuck…” I sighed, ruffling his curls and twirling the strands that had fallen on his forehead.

“Yeah…” He chuckled, crawling up to lay down facing me.

He looked beautiful, his hair all messy and his beard glistening from me, from what he just did. I also snuck a glance down, wanting to see what was waiting for me on the other side of the thin fabric. He cupped my cheek, kissing me tenderly and I could taste myself on his tongue. I deepened the kiss and moved to straddle him.

“Can I take these off,” I looked down to the only thing separating us.

“Please, I need to feel you.” I bit my lip and reached down to pull his boxers down and off.

Seeing him lying there, his cock hard and the beads of precum dripping off, threw me into an alternate dimension as everything ran by in a delicious blur. The stretch I felt as I lowered myself on him was intoxicating.

He let me ride him for a bit before flipping me over, hitching one of my legs up, and hitting a spot so deep I didn’t even know it existed. He grunts, my moans, and the squelching sounds of our joined bodies were absolutely sinful.

“You feel so good, baby,” he panted. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Good….neither…am…I…fuck,” I felt myself coming for a second time – something I haven’t achieved in longer than I care to remember.

As I arched my back, Frankie’s rhythm sputtered as he came, falling forward to cage my head between his arms. He brought his forehead to mine, pressing a quick kiss to my nose as he rested his head next to mine, still panting.

We stayed like that for a while. I traced my fingernails up and down his back, lightly scratching him, which he seemed to enjoy as he nuzzled his nose into my neck. He felt like the perfect weighted blanket.

With a deep breath, he pulled out as I whined, feeling the emptiness. He laid down on his back next to me, pulling me in so I could curl into him. The early morning wake-up call coupled with the excitement and exertion made my eyes feel really heavy.

I was pulled out of my slumber thanks to a ray of sunlight coming through the curtains I forgot to close last night. Behind me, I heard the sheets rustle as Frankie turned, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my back flush against his chest.

“Morning, mi cielo,” he kissed my shoulder. I giggled as his stubble tickled me.

“Why sky?” I turned in his arms to face him, pushing some wayward curls off his forehead.

“I don’t know…I guess…we got to know each other up in the sky. And it’s my favorite place, so it seems fitting,” his eyes softened and it made me feel giddy. “Sorry, that’s probably really cheesy.”

“No, it’s really sweet Frankie. I’ve never been called that before…I like it.”

We made out for a little bit and one thing led to another and he was back between my legs. I don’t even know which round we’re on as I lay panting and trying to catch my breath.

My stomach betrayed me and grumbled; food was the furthest thing from my mind at this point. Frankie heard and laughed as he sat up, his sweaty curls clinging to the back of his neck as he got out of bed and grabbed his boxers and jeans.

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs to get you something,” he winked. “How do you take your coffee?”

I crawl over to the side of the bed, sitting up on my knees and reaching for him. “We can just order room service.”

“I was planning on it for later,” he smirked, kissing me before he turned to head out to the living room to grab his backpack, grabbing a shirt from it. “Coffee?” he called over to me as he put it on.

“I take it black.”

“Makes sense…you’re already so sweet.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Ok, I’ll be back.”

Once he left I searched around for something to wear. I spotted his BBB-8 shirt crumpled up in a ball on a chair and decided to put it on, loving how it hung on my frame. I laid back in bed, smiling to myself as I remembered parts of last night and this morning. My phone buzzed and I assumed it was Frankie asking a question about what I wanted, but instead, it was Ash.

Ash: Ok, but he’s hot AF in person. You must have had a LOT of fun last night based on how his hair looks 😉

What the fuck is happening?

Ash: Relaxxx. I’m down here taking a call. Almost didn’t recognize him without the hat.

omggg

Ash: Holy shit. He’s getting you breakfast?

Ash: Aww it’s so cute.

Ash: You must have worked up quite the appetite based on the amount of shit he’s getting.

Please don’t say anything to him.

Ash: I’m not. I’m being stealthy

Ash: Ok lover boy is headed back up.

Ash and I texted a bit more so I could get caught up on the wedding. Everything seemed to go to plan and Carol was beaming in the photos. It was so sweet to see the way Dave looked at her, his gaze reminding me of a certain pair of chocolate brown eyes that were now seared into my memory.

Almost on cue, a knock at the door brought me back to the present. I rushed over to open it for Frankie. Ash wasn’t kidding, he brought the whole bakery upstairs with him along with a couple of large coffees. He inhaled sharply as he saw me – I’d forgotten I was wearing his shirt.

“Damn, that looks really good on you,” he kissed my cheek as he walked in.

As we ate and sipped on our coffee we talked about plans for the day, deciding that we wanted to stay holed up in the room. Our conversation eventually came to a natural lull as I lay on Frankie’s chest, his hand trailing up and down my arm. It wasn't awkward or anything, it was time for both of us to just think. My mind drifted from being giddy and excited that I’d get to spend the whole day, and hopefully another night, with Frankie, to feeling deflated by the fact that in less than 24 hours I’d be boarding a plane back home.

“What are you thinking about?” He broke the silence, nudging me with his knee. I shook my head, nervous about sounding too needy. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

“It’s just…what happens next?” I winced, unable to look at him.

He paused for a moment before taking my hand, “What do you mean?”

“I mean this…us…I…no pressure or anything, but I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you Frankie. And I know I’ll be far away and I totally get it if you just wanted this to be a weekend thing and I-”

“Hey. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you too…I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time and you’re easy to talk to,” his soft smile instantly warmed my heart. “Here I was wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to not have you run but the truth is, I don’t want this to end here. I want to keep getting to know you and like no pressure or anything, but if you decide you want to come back down here to visit or have me come up there, I’d do it. Whatever you want.”

I paused for a moment, shocked by his candor but relieved that it seemed like we were on the same page. Taking a deep breath, I turned to him. “I’d like that.”

“So don’t think of it as a goodbye. We can figure it out. Have you ever done a long-distance thing before?”

I shook my head. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t really ever been in a…uh…” I didn’t want to label ourselves as in a relationship but that’s how I saw it.

“You haven’t?”

“No…it always seemed like no one was ever really wanting that, like they’d lose interest after a date or two. Eventually, I ended up getting busy with work and stopped caring.”

“Well, I’m very…uh…interested,” he chuckled.

“Good me too,” I leaned over and kissed him.

We spent the rest of the day lazily in bed watching movies, making out, having a little extra fun, and even taking a little nap too. Frankie stayed true to his promise and we did order room service later, followed up by a shower. I was so thankful I sprung for this suite for that shower alone.

It was so nice to have just a chill day, but it made me a bit sad that I wouldn’t be able to spend next Sunday doing the same thing. As the hours stretched into the evening and the sun started to set I reluctantly started packing. Frankie sat at the foot of my bed watching me flit around the suite.

“How are you getting to the airport tomorrow?” He asked as I zippered up the carry-on.

“Ah actually…I was hoping maybe you could take me?”

His face lit up. “I’d love to. We should probably get to sleep, you have an early flight.”

Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to savor every last moment I had with him and not squander it away by being asleep. Sex with Frankie was everything I ever wanted and unlike anything I’d ever had. He was caring and tender but passionate and decisive. I didn’t want to say it out loud to him but he officially ruined all other men for me; he was now the standard.

The alarm startled Frankie from his unusually deep sleep, annoyed that the morning came so quickly. But then again, that’s what happens when your night stretches into the early hours. Even though they’d both established that this morning wasn’t going to be a goodbye, he still felt uneasy.

Right now they were in a little bubble and riding high off of the oxytocin and basking in the afterglow. What lay ahead was going to be difficult – finding ways to stay connected with each other, working the other person into their life from afar. He already knew what Pope was going to say, no doubt telling his friend to be cautious and guard his heart.

But as she turned around and faced him, cupping his face and stroking the bare patch on his beard, he just knew. He’d never felt so sure about anything in his life. She made him want to try. To open his heart back up again. To unlock a part of himself he thought was gone forever.

I had to rush a bit to get out the door, thanks to Frankie who was very eager to show me how much he was going to miss me – not that I was complaining.

He held my hand the entire drive to the airport, trying to quell my flight anxiety along the way. The weather was beautiful so he assured me that it should be a smoother ride than our trip down.

As we approached arrivals, I felt a pit in my stomach. Truth be told, I was scared. Scared that this may be it. Scared that he may change his mind, and that this would be too difficult given his past experiences. He'd clued me in on some of the issues with his past relationship but I just know there's more there to uncover.

Sure, we talked about staying in touch, but what if my definition of “staying in touch” was different from his and I ended up scaring him off? I already knew I would be overthinking it all. But even amidst all of that uncertainty, there was a little voice telling me it was going to be ok.

His grip on my hand tightened as he pulled up to the curb to park.

“This sucks.” He dragged his other hand down his face before turning to face me. “Is it weird if I'm already trying to figure out when I could come up?” The relief I felt hearing him say that must have been more visible on my face than I thought because he chuckled as he leaned forward to kiss me. “I take it that it's ok?”

“Yes Frankie, more than ok.”

The whistles from the guards directing traffic pulled us back to reality. Frankie hopped out, jogging around the truck to help me with my bag before gently setting it on the ground.

I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around his mid back and pressing my face into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head as we stayed like this, neither of us wanting to be the first one to pull away.

“Hey boss, imma need you to move this,” a man behind me grunted to Frankie.

“Yeah, I'll be a second.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from me but still kept me in his arms. “I'm not saying goodbye ok? Because you're going to text me when you get through security and you're going to send me a picture of that spicy Bloody Mary Mac is going to make you,” he chuckled. “And you'll tell me when you get on the plane and I'll tell you how Benny's training goes.”

“And then I'll tell you when I land,” I reached my hands to rest behind his neck, playing with his hair. “And you'll fill me in on whatever else you boys have planned for today,” I winked.

“So it's not a goodbye.”

“Nope, not at all,” I smiled into a kiss he quickly deepened. People around us be damned, I couldn't help the moan that escaped as he pulled me closer to him.

Another whistle from the cop and we laughed, holding each other for one last second before pulling apart. Frankie handed me my bag, cupping my chin.

“I'll talk to you soon mi cielo. You're going to have a safe flight.”

“I'll miss you,” was all I could squeak out as I bit my lower lip. I'd been feeling the tears quelling up since we checked out of the hotel and I was nervous they’d finally spill over.

“I'll miss you more,” he kissed me again. “Now, you have to go otherwise my truck is gonna get towed,” he chuckled.

I kissed him one last time before I grabbed my things and walked towards the sliding automatic doors. Turning around I caught one last glimpse of Franke, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and giving a small wave with the other.

I'd never been more thankful for TSA Pre-Check. The lines were long and my goodbyes with Frankie stretched longer than I thought. Once I got through security, I quickly bought my water and magazine and walked over to the bar to see Mac.

“You're late! Musta been a good weekend missy,’ he winked.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, “that obvious huh?’

“For a second there I thought you might miss your flight. But here I made you something, on me,” he winked, handing me a white Styrofoam cup.

I took a sip and chuckled. “Is this even legal?”

“Well, don't take it on the plane with you. Figured you could sip on it while you're waiting to board. I can't have you walk by my bar and not get your Bloody Mary.”

“Thanks, Mac. Sorry I can't chat much this time.”

“Oh, I think we'll be having plenty of chats. You have a safe flight missy, I'll see you soon.”

I thanked Mac and said my goodbyes as I walked over to my gate, arriving just as boarding started. With one last big sip, I threw the drink in the trash and boarded my flight. I headed straight for the wing, remembering how Frankie said it was the smoothest ride.

My mind raced through the whirlwind of a weekend I had, smiling at the memories made and those I hoped were to come. I fired off texts to Ash and my mom to let them know I was alive and on the plane. Ash quickly responded and I knew I'd spend the whole drive from the airport to the office filling them in on the weekend.

Then I went to my thread with Frankie. Scrolling through it to see how our chain started, remembering that I saved my number in his phone as Wifey. The photo of him in bed reminded me of the soreness between my legs and I could practically feel his curls as I balled my fist.

“Ma'am, we're going to need you to turn off your phone,” the flight attendant leaned over with a sweet, but firm tone.

I sighed and quickly typed up a message.

On the plane. Found a seat over the wings. I'll let you know when I land. ❤️

I kept my phone out of sight, waiting until the last possible second before I put it away. Frankie was probably still driving so I wasn't expecting a response. With a sigh I unlocked my phone and as I went to swipe the airplane mode on I got a text.

Frankie ✈️: Good girl. Have a safe flight, I miss you.

And with that, I switched my phone off and stared outside the window with the biggest smile on my face.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! While this is the end of this arc, this isn’t the end for these two. They’ll get wrapped into Delta Landscaping (my Triple Frontier AU). For those reading that series, you would have seen a mention in the last couple of episodes.

Tagging a few who may be interested based on comments/reblogs from the previous parts. I can remove you if you want: @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @lwfics / @missladym1981 / @alltheseperfectimperfections / @anavatazes / @inept-the-magnificent / @weho2kcmo / @casa-boiardi / @undercoverpena / @survivingandenduring / @secretelephanttattoo / @sin-djarin / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @trulybetty / @mellymbee / @jessiejessworldsblog / @anoverwhelmingdin / @southernbe / @inthedarkestnight / @iloveenya / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @itspdameronthings / @all-the-things-2020 / @avastrasposts / @linzels-blog / @maried01 / @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 / @titabel

#frankie friday #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales

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niningtori · 2 months

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see me | chapter two: closer

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu's your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 2-3k-ish

notes: as promised, here is chapter two :) i realize most people are actually waiting for chapter three of to know him is to love him, but somebody wanted to read this and i already had it written!! it also made me so happy that someone was interested in the first fic i posted on here 😭 i'm still working on chapter 3 of tkhitlm, but i will be bouncing back and forth between that and see me (which is how i like to write, don't worry). also, feedback is appreciated :,)

after an intervention with jia, you decide you're not going to forgive donghyun for his infidelity. it's tempting to just listen to him and move forward with your relationship, but you decide to put your dignity first and break up with him once and for all. for that, beomgyu is more grateful than you'll ever know.

jia suggests going on a trip with her and her boyfriend, yijun. you decisively reject her under the claim that you're unwilling to be the third wheel, but jia, ever the mastermind, placates you by inviting beomgyu. you're immediately a lot more willing than before. sure, you'd still be an extra wheel, but you could do so with company. you and beomgyu are friends — almost like family. the idea of going on a trip with them is exponentially more appealing when you know he'll be there with you. he could, in theory, bring one of the many girls who are always hanging off of him, but he's been more lowkey lately for reasons unknown to you.

the trip in question is to the closest beach. yijun has a beach house (you often joke about how she hit the jackpot with him) and you're finally ready to unwind and forget about your shitty reality. beomgyu is uncharacteristically quiet for the entire drive there, but you don't push because you assume he's not in the mood for you to. you plan on asking him about it when you get a moment alone, though.

the house has three bedrooms and you're beyond thankful. you'd feel awful if you had to share a room with jia just so you wouldn't have to room with beomgyu. you begin to imagine what would have happened if donghyun had come instead, but you shake off the thought as fast as you possibly can, though it lingers in the back of your mind.

jia and yijun are on the first level while you and beomgyu are on the second. you stare up the long staircase and sigh at the thought of having to heave your suitcase up there after such a tiring drive. then, as if reading your mind, beomgyu grabs your suitcase along with his and lugs them up the stairs without saying a word. you grin and comment on his chivalry and strength. the tips of his ears turn pink, but they are (thankfully) hidden under his long hair.

jia and yijun invite you to the beach, but you decide you're too tired and would rather stay in for the time being. you decide to take a quick nap, or at least you try to, but end up waking up so disoriented you briefly can't recall where you are and why. when you regain your senses and check your phone, you realize you've been out for at least 4 hours and the sky is already darkening. so much for an eventful first day.

with a grimace, you make your way down the stairs and to the living room, half expecting jia to make fun of you, but the only person you see is beomgyu. he's sitting there, posture relaxed while he fiddles with his phone. when you call out to him, he immediately drops it onto the floor.

"shit!" he exclaims.

"sorry, i didn't know i'd freak you out this bad," you remark sheepishly.

"it's okay," he says clearing his throat awkwardly. "how are you? did you sleep okay?"

"i woke up literally not knowing who i was. that's how good i slept." you both laugh at this and he shakes his head.

"hey, where are jia and yijun?" you ask.

"they're at the beach."

"still?"

"still."

"why didn't you go with them?" you question lightly with a tilt of your head.

"i dunno, just didn't feel like it," he lies with a cough. he just really didn't wanna leave you here alone, and if he could spend some one-on-one time with you, all the better.

"well, i'm hungry. do you want to get dinner together?" you assumed jia and yijun were probably out to eat on their own.

"do you mean going out?"

you steal a glance at the mirror hanging above the couch and catch a glimpse of your drool encrusted mouth and bedhead. going out? no fucking way.

"i was thinking of just ordering chinese food?"

"sounds good to me."

when the food arrives, you make beomgyu go out to get it, arguing that you look like shit. he says you look fine and you roll your eyes at this. you took a four hour nap and you'll be damned if it doesn't show. if it was anyone else, you may have been embarrassed about your appearance, but it's just beomgyu. he certainly doesn't care about what you look like.

in between bites of your noodles, you laugh at beomgyu's storytelling. he's not being as quiet as before and he's talking about an unspecified friend's antics with two new situationships, only to find out he's been fucking two so-called best friends simultaneously. you groan at the revelation and cover your face in secondhand embarrassment. he doesn't spare any of the finer details and you're kicking your feet at the awkwardness.

he's acting normal more or less, but you can't help but notice how hesitant he seems at certain points. you're still set on asking him what's wrong, so after you're done laughing and reacting to his enthralling story, you find a quiet moment.

"beomie?"

"what is it?" he asks, smile still present from your infectious laughter.

"are you alright?" immediately, his smile drops and is replaced by a light frown.

"yeah... why wouldn't i be?"

"it just feels like you're not 100% here, is everything okay?" leave it to you to notice the almost imperceptible changes within him. even his own sister doesn't seem to notice how off he's felt lately, but his heart soars at how much you've been evidently paying attention.

"actually, i—" the front door swings open and jia comes in with yijun in tow.

"jesus, did you just wake up?" she asks, unimpressed with your current appearance.

"more or less," you grin. beomgyu can't help but grin too, but his smile falters when he realizes the conversation you two were having was cut short and he's unsure of when you two will be alone again.

"we brought you guys some food, but i guess we didn't need to," she says, eyeing the chinese food messily sitting on the coffee table.

"really? you're the best," you answer.

beomgyu thinks he gives his thanks too, but he honestly can't tell if he said it aloud or not. he's so disappointed because he felt like you two were finally getting somewhere, but he supposes he'll have time to talk to you again during the trip. he just hopes jia and yijun take a hint and fuck off for awhile sometime soon.

they don't. actually, it feels like jia is more glued to you than usual, which could be due in part to the heartbreak you've just borne, but he still can't help but feel indignant. he wants to tell her to kick rocks, but he can't — that would raise too much suspicion. so he sits patiently, like he always has, and waits.

in the meantime, the rest of his crew is blowing up his phone — coaching him on how to make subtle moves on you. sometimes, he stands behind you and grabs things you can't reach on your own, which seems innocuous enough, but he feels so close you can feel his breath on your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. other times, he gently touches your shoulder or knee when redirecting your attention. these harmless gestures are meaningless to you, but you have no idea how much courage it takes him to make these moves. you and beomgyu have touched each other before, so it's not like you question a single thing he does. in fact, you've hugged him, even, but that was only ever once and never again. you don't like to relive that memory for reasons unrelated to him, but he remembers everything.

being with doyoon was everything you ever hoped love could be. it was patient, it was kind, and it was unbreakable, at least to you. you didn't want to be naive, but after a few months, you already knew you wanted to marry him.

you always felt a little lost. the reason why you even went to college in the first place was mostly because you didn't want to be home anymore, not because of some grand plan for yourself and for your life. doyoon was the exact opposite. he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it, but you loved him for that. he seemed so determined and sure of himself, everything you weren't. being with him made you want to be better. actually, being with him made you better. sure, you still weren't 100% sure what you were doing, but you knew you wanted more. whatever happened, you knew he'd be there to help you figure it out. or that's what you used to think, at least.

for three years, you tried to measure up to him. you wbeing with doyoon was everything you ever hoped love could be. it was patient, it was kind, and it was unbreakable, at least to you. you didn't want to be naive, but after a few months, you already knew you wanted to marry him.

for three years, you tried to measure up to him. you wanted to become someone worthy of him to the point where you abandoned a lot of who you used to be. good riddance to bad rubbish, you thought. no need for tears spilled over the loss of someone you didn't even like. jia would worry, though. she said you weren't acting like yourself because you were wound so tight you were no longer the easygoing person you always had been. you were hard on yourself to the point of tears at times, wanting so desperately to be someone doyoon could be proud of, but you fell short every time.

when you didn't get promotions and the internship you wanted, doyoon would always comfort you, but you knew he was disappointed. not with the fact that you failed, but just in you. he said you needed to apply yourself more, so you did. he said you had more potential than you even knew and he didn't want you to settle for anything less, but one day you couldn't help but ask "what if this is all i can do?!"

he was silent for a moment, seriously contemplating your question. you felt an unparalleled sense of dread while you waited for him to answer. why didn't he know his answer? why wasn't it "then i'll love you anyway"? why, why, why? eventually, he replied, and your dread was met with despair.

"then i can't be with you."

he said more after that. something about wanting different things, something about needing to find someone more compatible, something about needing to grow with someone instead of watching them wither. the last one in particular hurt the most. you had tried so, so hard to be someone you wanted to be around, but it was never enough. you felt like everything you did had been pointless and the person you had become was a façade. a really strong person wouldn't crumble the way you did. a really strong person wouldn't cling to his shirt and beg him to see the good in you, and you knew that, but you did it anyway.

when he inevitably left you as you sobbed alone, you wanted to see jia immediately, but she was home for the holidays. you tried calling on your drive over, but it went straight to voicemail. do not disturb, a nasty little feature. she must have been asleep. still, you drove over like a madman and paused several times when you couldn't see through your tears.

when you arrived at the choi's house, you knocked rapidly on the door — basically pounding on it. you sighed in relief when the door opened and you expected to see her face on the other side. what you didn't foresee was her little brother answering instead.

"what's wrong?!" he shouted in concern, taking in your pitiful frame. to this day you don't know why, but you took the 19-year-old beomgyu in your arms and released your sobs onto his chest. maybe you just needed somebody, anybody, to hold onto. and he let you. he pulled you in even closer and shut the door behind you. he shushed you as he gently rubbed circles into your shaking back and let you cry.

when you finally calmed down enough to talk, your voice was still choked and heavy with emotion.

"it's doyoon, h-he doesn't want me anymore. he said he can't be with me because i'm not — because i can't be good enough for him. he said we want different things, but we don't. i'm trying! can't he see that i'm trying?! can you see that i'm trying?!" you asked, not even really making sense, but beomgyu seemed to understand perfectly.

he knew jia had expressed concern for you and your relationship. she said you weren't acting like yourself anymore. she didn't mention that you would have meltdowns over not achieving what you felt you were supposed to achieve, but beomgyu overheard her consoling you more than once. he wanted to grab the phone from her and talk to you himself, but what could he say? that he saw you, the real you? that he could understand how you felt? that he always understood how you felt?

he couldn't before, but there you were, asking him the questions he always wanted you to ask. he wouldn't miss that chance.

"of course i can," he said softly. "of course i can. anyone can see it, and if they can't, they just don't know you." not like i know you.

"then — then why? why can't he understand me?" you seemed so lost he wished he could find the right words to soothe you. it felt like if he just said the right thing, maybe it would click for you that you just had the wrong person. maybe it would click for you that he could be the right person.

"because he's not the right person for you. the right person would never make you doubt yourself. the right person should make you want to be better on your own terms, not theirs. the right person would accept you just as you are even when you want to be something more."

you couldn't help but scoff at this.

"and who is the right person for me? who would want me the way i am right now?" you didn't mean to sound frustrated, but you were racking your brain trying to figure this shit out yourself too.

"i... i don't know." coward, he thought. "but i know he's out there. there's someone out there who really wants the best for you, but will never make you feel small while you're still trying to figure out what that looks like."

"i just want to know when that will be," you cried, fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. he almost took a chance to wipe your tears, but he opted to push your hair back behind your ears instead.

"it will be soon, just wait. don't cry. it's okay, don't cry."

you can't recall how long you cried after that, in spite of beomgyu's sincere pleas. after you were all cried out, you put your head on his shoulder and he tried not to visibly stiffen.

"thank you. you know, beomie, this might be weird to say, but i've always felt that you're like..." he gulped and hoped to god you didn't hear it. was this it?

"that you're like a little brother to me, honestly." he felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "i really hope that's not weird, but i really do love you. you're such a good friend to me." he felt like he had been kicked in the stomach, actually.

"any time. i mean it. i love you, too." the sentiment was a little different, but he was still glad to say it.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 5 months

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Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 17 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Spencer struggles with the side effects of his medication before his worlds collide. Secrets and feelings come rushing to the surface causing Spencer to battle with his alcoholism.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - antidepressant side effects, erectile dysfunction, making out, brief mention of oral (fem! Receiving), talk of therapy, Spencer struggles with his drinking, mentions of failed masturbation, swearing, drinking, break ups.

WC - 5.8k

Chapter 17 - Someone You Loved

I’m going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me,

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.

I need somebody to heal,

Somebody to know,

Somebody to have,

Somebody to hold.

It's easy to say,

But it's never the same,

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.

“I swear this has nothing to do with you.” Spencer tried to insist, a look of mortification on his face.

Blair pulled the sheets up around her naked body, looking as uncomfortable as Spencer did.

“I mean, I guess you wouldn’t tell me if it was.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

The girls left for California yesterday and tonight Spencer had taken Blair to the movies before they’d ventured back to his house.

The moment they’d walked through the door things had grown hot and heavy, a trail of clothes left between the front door and his bedroom.

They made out fiercely for some time but nothing was happening for Spencer. Even once she was naked and he pawed at her body, there was no movement downstairs.

He’d gone down on her in the hopes it would awaken his lifeless cock. Usually it would have worked, worshipping a woman with his tongue was one of his most favourite activities.

But even still, his cock would not cooperate.

Eventually Blair had shied away, clearly thinking his dicks lack of interest was her fault.

“Goddamnit,” he shook his head as the realisation washed over him. “It’s my meds.”

“Meds?” Blair tentatively asked.

Spencer sighed, his whole body heaving as he did so. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell her about this, he wasn’t sure he planned on telling her at all if truth be told.

“When you looked after the girls for me last week, I didn’t have a work thing. I had my first therapy session.” He would so much rather have this conversation with more clothes on.

Blair shuffled up in the bed, keeping the sheet pulled tightly around her as she lent against the pillows.

“Why did you lie to me?” She looked at him curiously.

“We’d be on one date, I didn’t want to freak you out. My doctor prescribed me antidepressants. I’ve been taking them for almost a week and she said within a week I might start noticing some side effects. One of which being…”

“Erectile dysfunction.” Blair fielded when he trailed off.

He pulled face and nodded, raking his fingers through his messy hair.

“It won’t last forever. I did some research. Supposedly within fourteen days I should start to see the side effects wear off.” He hung his head.

“You could have told me,” she placed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok Spencer. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you need a little help.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I was some kind of basket case.” He glanced at her.

“I don’t.” She insisted, smiling softly at him. “But from now on you’re going to need to be honest with me ok?”

“You’re not leaving?”

“Why would I leave?”

“Because…” he trailed off, nodding his head in the direction of his crotch.

“I can wait.” She squeezed his arm. “And I didn’t exactly come away empty handed in this situation.”

“No, you did not.” That was just me.

“So no more secrets?”

“There is one more thing I should tell you,” He shuffled in the bed so he could get a better look at her. “On our date I didn’t drink. And that’s because I’ve recently quit drinking.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, scrutinising him. It made him feel uncomfortable.

“You had a problem?” Her eyebrows knitted together.

“I guess. I’ve been drinking a lot since my wife left, only when my kids aren’t home. I’ve battled addiction once before, a long time ago and I didn’t want it to get to that point again. So I’ve quit drinking all together.” He pursed his lips, waiting for her reaction.

“And you didn’t tell me because of what I told you about my ex.” She nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “There are a lot of men out there who have way less issues than me, way less complications. I would totally understand if you wanted to walk away before this gets serious.”

Her expression was curious as she looked at him, lip twitching slightly at the corner. She took hold of his hand in hers.

“Why would I want to walk away?” Her smile grew until it encompassed her face.

“So many reasons.” He laughed but Blair leaned in and kissed him.

“I like you Spencer, you aren’t going to scare me away so easily.” She mumbled against his lips.

“Good to know,” he cupped her face, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Before I forget, my gallery is having this big, fancy show on Tuesday night. I wondered if you wanted to come? I’ll be working up until the show starts and I might have to do some running around during the night but for the most part I should be able to enjoy it with you.”

“I’m pretty good with my own company so even if you do need to run off I can take care of myself.” He smiled at her.

“So that’s a yes?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Yes, I’d love to come.” He kissed her again and rolled her back to the mattress, climbing on top of her.

She giggled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him.

“What are you doing?” She laughed, his lips trailing down her neck towards her collarbones.

“Just because I can’t exactly show it right now, doesn’t mean for a second that I don’t love being between your legs.” He spoke against her skin and she moaned at his words.

His lips continued lower and her fingers threaded into his messy locks when he started kissing across the planes of her stomach. Soon his head was dipping lower and Blair’s eyes rolled back in her head.

Spencer was only mildly disappointed when he still couldn’t get it up.

***

You smiled sleepily as Sam strolled back in the room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and carrying two glasses of water. He got back into bed and handed you one, which you sipped before setting on the nightstand.

“I think I’m going to sleep for a week.” Your head flopped to your pillow.

“Me too,” he chuckled, laying down to face you. “But I have to say, I very much enjoyed skipping our dinner plans for this.”

“Agreed.” Your eyes started to flutter closed.

You’d spent the whole evening in bed together, exploring each other’s body and finding new ways to get each other off. It had been fun but you were still yearning for more, for someone else.

Sam was good in bed, great really. But he couldn’t make you come with the ease in which Spencer always had. Sometimes it didn’t even seem as though Spencer needed to try.

You hadn’t meant to think about him, but at some point during the night he’d just slipped to the forefront of your mind and once he was there, you couldn’t get rid of him.

It was good with Sam but there was something missing. That spark of passion, that desperation. Hopefully one day you’d be able to stop thinking about your ex, but today certainly wasn’t that day.

“Before you fall asleep,” Sam spoke, tucking your hair gently behind your ear. “A guy at work’s wife is an up and coming artist and she’s showing in some gallery in the district on Tuesday night. He got us all tickets and I’ve got a plus one.”

“An art show?” You opened your eyes.

“Yep. Super fancy apparently.” He smiled at you.

“That sounds amazing. Let’s do it.” You pulled him close by his broad shoulder and kissed him.

“Great, I can’t wait.” He settled down and pulled you into his arms.

Your head found purchase on his chest and you tried to focus on the rhythmic beating of his heart. He held you close, placing sporadic kisses on the top of your head.

Maybe one day you would grow to love him. If you could learn how to stop loving Spencer first.

***

The girls called everyday to regale Spencer with stories from California. And despite herself, Daisy was actually having a lot of fun.

It at least allowed Spencer to worry less about one aspect of his life.

He dressed in his best suit, crisp white button down, black jacket and slacks paired with a black tie. He even passed on his trusty converse and went with his black dress shoes instead.

He shaved, slicked his hair back off of his face in the hopes it wouldn’t look so messy. He spritzed a little of an old bottle of cologne he found in the back of the bathroom cabinet.

Forgoing his satchel he slipped his keys, phone and wallet in his pocket along with the art show invite.

Blair was already at the gallery setting up and she was meeting him there. And for some reason Spencer was incredibly nervous.

It occurred to him that there would be alcohol at this event and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to be around that much temptation.

He’d had his second therapy session this morning and spoken to Doctor Sanchez about it at length.

He felt better for talking about it but he was still concerned. Maybe he’d need a meeting again soon, he was certainly craving something to take the edge off.

It didn’t help being alone in his stupidly large house. The girls had been gone for four days, the longest he’d been on his own in this house for.

It was too quiet all the time, too big and empty and lonely. Honestly he couldn’t wait for them to come home.

He had Taco he supposed but that somehow made the situation more depressing.

At Luke’s instruction Spencer had installed a child gate at the bottom of his stairs to stop Taco having the run of the house. The dog needed boundaries and thus he was now only allowed on the ground floor, something Spencer was glad about but knew his kids wouldn’t be.

Luke advised to try and leave him home on his own more and not let him get used to kennels. He told him to shut Taco in the kitchen when he went out, so as to limit any destruction he may cause.

Spencer had moved the dog's bed into the kitchen, in the corner next to the fridge. Luke told him to ensure he had food and plenty of water and even leave a couple of toys out for him to play with when he was bored, hopefully to stop him attacking anything that didn’t belong to him.

So far Taco had not had another rampage during the small windows Spencer left him alone. Luke’s advice seemed to be working and he wasn’t sure why he was surprised about that, clearly Luke knew what he was doing.

Tomorrow Luke was coming over and they were going to take Taco to an enclosed dog park so Spencer could start to train him off lead around other dogs. Aside from Roxy, Taco was not very good with other dogs, usually hiding behind Spencer when one came near. Roxy was the exception to his rule.

He’d also, somewhat reluctantly, talked to his Doctor about his problem with the meds. He really did not enjoy talking about the fact he couldn’t get hard but it was starting to get on his nerves.

He’d spent a lot of time the past few days trying to masturbate. Trying and failing miserably. At best he’d managed to get a semi, but even when he did it didn’t last long before he was flaccid again.

He felt like he was being betrayed by his own anatomy, like it had turned against him. Since he was a teenager and discovering self pleasure for the first time, Spencer had never once had a problem getting it up.

Doctor Sanchez assured him those side effects would lessen over time and unfortunately he needed to exercise patience. He didn’t feel particularly patient though. He just wanted to have a goddamn orgasm.

He had a half hour until the gallery opened and so he shut Taco in the kitchen, bid him adieu and left the house, trying to leave thoughts of that nature at home.

***

You cautiously pushed open the door of the chic looking art gallery, handing your invite over to the man on the door. You swallowed nervously and stepped inside.

It was already packed, although admittedly you were running a little late. Today was the deadline for your final thesis and you’d used every available minute you could to perfect it.

If all went well you could have your doctorate in a few months but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. You were using tonight as an excuse to get out of your head and just have some fun.

You spotted Sam with ease, at six foot five he towered over the crowds. He saw you too and grinned wildly at you, making a beeline for you.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, eyes grazing up and down your body. “You look phenomenal.”

You felt your cheeks redden and you rolled your lip between your teeth. You’d found the dress in the back of your closet, you hadn’t had an excuse to wear it in years.

It was a black, one shoulder, floor length garment which hugged your curves in all the right places. It had a slit up one side, all the way to your thigh.

Sam looked much like the cat that got the cream.

“Thanks,” you shrugged. “You did say fancy.”

“I did say that. And you delivered.” He placed his hand on your lower back and kissed you gently.

He didn’t look so bad himself. You’d never seen him in a suit before and he looked devilishly handsome, even if the fabric of his jacket looked as though it struggled to contain his large biceps.

In another life, he could have been a football player, he certainly had the build for it. He played in high school but ended up following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a lawyer, a very well respected one at that.

“I want to show you off, is that ok?” He motioned you forward with his hand still on your back.

“I didn’t get this dressed up for nothing.” You smirked.

He picked up two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handed you one before continuing to lead you forward towards the group of his work colleagues. You took a sip of your drink as you walked and accidentally nudged against someone.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” The woman halted in her tracks, her large icy blue eyes full of apologies.

Her long dark hair was curled to frame her petite face. She wore a stunning satin blue dress that cut off at the knees and she held a clipboard under one arm.

“Don’t be, it was my fault.” You smiled at her.

Sam removed his hand from your back and nodded in the direction of his colleagues, wordlessly telling you to join him before he headed over.

“I think I was a little to blame, I’m getting a bit flustered.” She laughed lightly, a nice, easy sound as she motioned to the clipboard. “It’s my first big event.”

“You’re an artist?” You found yourself asking, this woman was extremely easy to talk to.

“Oh no,” she laughed again with a shake of her head. “I’m the manager here. Just making sure things are running smoothly before I can enjoy my night. I think my date would appreciate it, he’s looking a little like a spare part…I’m sorry I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this.”

“It’s fine.” You smiled at her, hoping to calm her. “For the record this place looks great. I mean I don’t know much about art shows but it looks like it's going pretty well.”

“Thank you, even if you don’t know what you’re talking about that means a lot.” She laughed yet again before holding her hand out. “I’m Blair.”

“Y/N.” You shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Perhaps once things have calmed down we can have a drink.” Blair shrugged awkwardly.

“I’d like that.” You nodded. “Come find me when you have a chance.”

Blair left you with a nod of agreement before she carried on with her rounds. You took a breath and sidled up to Sam who was laughing heartily at something one of his friends had said.

When he felt you at his side he was quick to put his arm around you, looking at you with pride swelling in his chest.

“Everyone, this is my gorgeous date, Y/N.” He beamed. “Y/N, this is Sampson, Richards, Sinclair and Montgomery.”

“Hi,” you waved at the group. “It’s so nice to meet you all, Sam has told me so much about all of you.”

You fell into conversation with the group, nuzzling against Sam’s side, watching him converse with these men. He was clearly in his element, a side of him coming out you hadn’t seen before.

He was more confident, he laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. Perhaps it was the kind of fake laugh he used around colleagues, a persona he’d created to fit in with the other lawyers at his firm.

You mostly stayed silent, only speaking if someone asked you a direct question. The more time you spent with Sam and his work friends, the less you felt like you fit into his world.

When it was just the two of you things were wonderful, but after seeing him tonight with his colleagues you weren’t sure you liked this side of him. He was a little smarmy, making inappropriate jokes just to fit in with the other men. This wasn’t the Sam you’d known in college, and it wasn’t the Sam you’d gotten reacquainted with recently.

You knew it was probably just an act but that still didn’t mean you liked it. And perhaps all those doubts you’d had about him in the back of your mind were coming to the surface all at once and flooding your senses.

But you were sure of one thing. As you stood there like some kind of trophy on his arm, you knew you and Sam had no future together. It was possible after tonight you wouldn’t even have a tomorrow.

***

Spencer made the rounds, eyeing each of the pieces of art hanging on the stark white walls in slight confusion. He understood that art was subjective but he did not understand any of these paintings.

Art had never been his thing. He had a few pieces in his home but they had been Maeve’s decorating choice not his.

Maybe if Blair would stop running around like a headless chicken for two minutes she could explain some of this stuff to him. Or better yet maybe they could make out in the corner instead.

He tried to keep his head down and ignore the near constant passing trays of champagne. He would give his right arm for a drink right about now, even if only to stem his boredom.

After taking in the artwork he settled over by a back wall, slowly sipping a glass of water. He wanted to go home, being alone with his dog had to be better than being alone in a crowded room.

Time passed painfully slowly, like it may have actually stopped altogether. This was not quite the night Spencer had in mind.

It was well over an hour since he’d arrived when Blair, in a blur of blue satin, headed his way. Her clipboard was gone, and he perked up.

“Are you done with work now? At the risk of sounding like Lily, I’m so bored.” He held his arms open for her and she embraced him, giving him a chaste kiss.

“I think so.” She smiled guiltily. “I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

“I don’t mind being dragged places as long as I actually get to spend time with you.”

“I’m all yours now, I swear.” She stroked his cheek. “Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?”

“It was implied.” He smirked. “You look absolutely incredible.”

“I don’t scrub up half bad, do I?” She giggled.

“You most certainly do not.”

“I met this woman earlier. She looked almost as out of place as you do and I wanted to find her, make sure she was alright.”

“You just can’t turn off that mom-brain can you?” He teased, kissing her cheek. “Let’s go.”

“You’re sure? I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the night you had planned.” She pouted her apology.

“It’s fine, it’s cute that you care so much.”

“I mean I wouldn’t take in stray dogs like some people.”

“I’d like to see you try and say no to my girls. Honestly it’s impossible. Those damn little pleading eyes and when they pout it rips me apart.” He held his hand to his chest.

“You’re a softy.” Blair teased, slipping her hand in his and forcibly removing him from where he’d been leaning against the wall.

He pulled a face, slightly wounded by her words. He knew she hadn’t meant them in the way he’d taken them but he couldn’t help find the second meaning to it.

Clearly she noticed him tense and she looked at him, quickly realising her error.

“Not like that. I’m sorry I didn’t mean…” she trailed off and Spencer filled in the blanks in his head.

You didn’t mean to reference the fact I can’t get a goddamn erection.

“I know you didn’t.” He tried to shake it off. “Just touched a nerve.”

“I’m sorry. Poor choice of words.” She squeezed his hand.

“It’s fine, it’s just a sensitive topic.”

“It’s still not…?”

“Cooperating? No.” He shook his head.

“I mean I’m kinda glad it wasn’t just me.” She shrugged.

“Trust me it is not just you.” He sighed. “But I would really rather not be talking about my sexual problems right now.”

“Of course. Let’s go mingle shall we?” She squeezed his hand again.

“Sure.” He nodded, swallowing down his embarrassment.

He let Blair lead him through the crowds, talked amicably to people she was trying to schmooze into buying the very expensive artwork.

Spencer felt tense, tenser than he had already felt now his erectile issues were playing on his mind again.

If he couldn’t even muster a little excitement seeing Blair in that sinfully tight dress, he knew he was fucked.

On top of everything else this was literally the last thing he needed to be dealing with. He already had two kids who barely listened to him, he didn’t need the same treatment from his dick.

Life was unusually cruel. But it was about to get a whole lot crueller.

***

After an hour of listening to Sam and his lawyer friends you were so ready for this night to be over.

You’d consumed three glasses of champagne but you didn’t feel the nice buzz you were hoping for. You kept checking the time on your phone, praying for this night to end so you could leave.

And you were sure it would be you and Sam’s last date.

Sure he was lovely and sweet when it was just the two of you but you didn’t like this man he’d become tonight. If you continued to date there would inevitably be more nights like this with colleagues and you weren’t prepared to sign up for that.

When his friends left the two of you alone finally tearing themselves away to at least pretend to look at the artwork, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you ok? You’ve been really quiet tonight.” Sam asked once you were on your own.

“I guess I’m just not feeling all that well. Do you mind if we go?”

“Of course not. I’ll take you home.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing your cheek.

For a moment the rest of the night melted away and Sam was the same man you started to develop feelings for. But you had to remind yourself it wouldn’t always be like this and you knew you had to get out before things got too serious.

He placed his hand once again on your lower back and started steering you towards the door. As you were weaving in and out people to the front of the gallery, you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you.”

You turned slowly on your heels, recognising Blair’s dulcet tone. You made eye contact with her and smiled briefly before you noticed the man standing at her side, holding her hand.

Your eyes leisurely moved from Blair’s hand interlocked with another much larger one, up the slim frame of the man who the hand belonged to. When they landed on his face you felt your chest instantly tighten, and all the air left your lungs at lightning speed.

Spencer’s lips parted a little and you saw the way he sucked in a deep breath. But to his credit his expression didn’t change all that much.

Time seemed to stand still and Blair and Sam momentarily slipped away as the two of you stared at each other. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cast up and down your body, taking in the sight of you in that dress.

Spencer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he felt the telltale stirring in his crotch seeing you in that goddamn dress. It wasn’t much, but it was the most his cock had reacted in over a week.

Blair and Sam both exchanged a look before she glanced back at you and Spencer, seemingly lost somewhere in your own world.

“Hi Y/N,” he finally spoke, his voice a little gruff.

“Hi Spencer.” You replied, swallowing thickly.

“You know each other?” Blair’s voice snapped you both out of the stare off and you looked at her wide eyed.

“Uh, yeah.” You shrugged. “I guess. Uh…we were just leaving so…”

“Oh no, don’t leave!” Blair gasped, clearly not noticing the tension between you.

“You haven’t even introduced us.” Sam’s hand ran up and down your back.

“Right,” you nodded, your head was spinning and you thought you might throw up. “Sam, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Sam.”

“And Blair you seem to already know.” Spencer narrowed his eyes on you.

“This is the woman I told you about. We met earlier.” Blair gave his hand a soft squeeze. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for a single moment.

“So introductions over. We really have to go. It was nice to meet you Blair. And it was…” you trailed off trying to find the right word. Nice to see him? No, that would be an outright lie. “I’ll see you.”

You grabbed Sam by the forearm and spun him around, starting to drag him towards the door before anyone could say anymore.

Spencer watched you go, heart in his throat. Seeing you had taken him by such surprise he honestly didn’t know how to react to it.

“So,” Blair’s tone forced him to look away from you and back at her. “I can only assume by how awkward that was, that she’s your ex-wife? I thought she was in California?”

“That’s not my ex-wife.” He shook his head, only then realising he’d never said Maeve’s name in front of Blair. “But she is an ex. We dated for a few months before I met you but it ended terribly.”

“I can tell.” Blair rolled her eyes, freeing her hand from his. “Another secret you kept from me. We talked about dating history Spencer, you never once mentioned her.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any excuses for that. I just wasn’t ready to talk about her.”

“I don’t like being lied to, Spencer and I hate being blindsided. You need to take a breath, figure out what it is you want. I’m not looking to be messed around, I’ve been there before. I like you and if I’m the person you want to be with I’m all in. But quite frankly, I don’t want to compete with Y/N and your ex-wife.” Blair folded her arms across her chest.

“That’s fair.” He nodded. “I’m sorry. I guess I should go. I just need some time to think, ok? But I’ll call you.”

“Don’t,” she shook her head. “Not unless I’m the one you’re choosing.”

With that she turned away and weaved between people until she was out of sight. Spencer felt a led weight emerge in his chest as he forced himself to leave. He shoved open the gallery door and stepped onto the dark street, briefly glancing around to see if you might still be here but came up short.

He rolled his lip violently between his teeth. The only thing he could focus on was his desperate need for a drink. He pushed everything else aside and started down the street in the direction of the nearest bar.

***

You and Sam walked in silence for a few blocks, your arms wrapped around yourself and his hands in his pockets. The silence was deafening. You wanted to say something to alleviate the discomfort but had no idea what to say.

Eventually you heard Sam’s footsteps slowing until he stopped all together. You halted your movements too and faced him.

“So that’s the professor?” He dove straight in.

“Was it that obvious?” You hugged your arms tighter around yourself.

“Anyone within a five block radius could see the way he was undressing you with his eyes.” Sam scoffed.

“He was not.” You rolled your eyes.

“Trust me Y/N, I have done the same thing to you enough tonight to know that look. And it wasn’t just the fact he was undressing you with his eyes, it was that it was clear he knew exactly what you look like under that dress.” He took his hands out of his pocket and folded his arms across his chest.

“We both have exes, Sam.” You shrugged in frustration.

“Yes, we do.” He agreed. “But I’m not still in love with any of mine.”

You felt tears brimming in your eyes and you tried to blink them back.

“There really isn’t any point in me lying to you, Sam. Yes I still have feelings for Spencer. It was recent and I guess I didn’t really give myself a chance to get over him before we started dating.” You sniffed.

“Well here’s your chance.” He spat.

“What do you mean?” You frowned at him.

“You can have all the time in the world to get over him Y/N because I’m out. I’m done.” He dropped his arms to his sides.

“Sam, don’t say that.” You took a step closer to him but he shook his head.

“I’m not looking to be a rebound, Y/N. I’ve been crazy about you since college. I always thought the reason I never settled down was because of you. I couldn’t believe my luck when I bumped into you again, it felt like fate or something. But I don’t want to be with someone who wants to be with someone else.” He ran his fingers through his hair and started pacing the sidewalk.

You had a horrible feeling of deja vu, except you were Sam and Spencer was you. It took you back to the day on the front steps of your building after you’d heard Spencer confess his feelings for his ex-wife.

What Sam was saying felt so reminiscent of what you’d told Spencer that day.

I think you need to deal with whatever residual emotions you’ve been harbouring for her before you jump into something else. I don’t want to be someone’s second choice, Spencer.

Right now you couldn’t even begin to unpack how much it hurt that instead of dealing with his feelings for Maeve, he’d found someone else. Someone beautiful with electric eyes and a heart warming laugh.

Someone who wasn’t you.

You swallowed, understanding exactly where Sam was coming from and knowing you couldn’t argue with him. It wasn’t fair on him, it wasn’t fair on you.

“You’re right. It’s not fair on you, I really am sorry.” Your first tear fell.

“So I am.” He sighed. “So am I.”

***

He sat at the bar staring down into the glass of scotch. It had remained untouched since the bartender placed it in front of him and the ice cubes had started to melt.

In the last twenty minutes he’d typed out three different text messages to you.

📱 Y/N, it was really good to see you tonight. I hope everything is well with you. Enjoy the rest of your summer.

📱 Y/N, can we talk? I would really like to talk to you, so maybe you can meet me for a drink? I’m at Dooley’s near the art gallery. Please come and meet me.

And finally -

📱 Y/N, I miss you so fucking much. Seeing you tonight was like a jolt of electricity. I’ve been an idiot. I love you, I love you so much. Please say you still love me too.

So far he had not sent a single one, which was probably for the best. Instead he continued to stare down into the taunting drink and contemplated throwing away his newfound sobriety in lieu of getting blind drunk just to take some of his pain away.

His life was just one fuck up after another recently and no matter how hard he tried to better himself he kept stumbling over each new hurdle.

He pulled out his phone again and opened the photos app. His phone was old and the images were grainy but he needed a reminder of why he needed to stay sober.

He pulled up a recent picture of Daisy and Lily, Taco cradled in the younger girl's lap as they smiled brightly for the camera.

A tear crept from his eye. He missed them so much. He wished they were here, wished he could hold them, to feel tethered to them in order to stop himself from throwing his life away at the bottom of a bottle.

It was too late to call but he wished he could hear their voices, have them pull him back from the brink.

Maybe he should call Tara.

Chances were she was working and if she wasn’t she’d no doubt be at home in bed at this hour.

He didn’t want to burden her, but he could really use a meeting right now and he certainly wasn’t strong enough to go on his own.

He pulled up his contacts and located her number. His thumb hovered above it for a moment or two before he slammed the device back on the bar counter.

Then he picked up the glass and downed the scotch in one. And then he quickly ordered another.

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