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#so maybe Mondays trip will be better
shiningstages · 2 years
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I’m really excited today since coworkers from work invited me to a dinner girls night, and I’m going to my old college choir’s concert to surprise them!! It’s also my older brother’s birthday, so I’m gonna bake him a cake before I leave (even though we’re officially celebrating tomorrow after I get off work, I still wanna do something since after he gets off he’ll be home alone)!! A call I had with my capstone group + prof went well, and I have my stuff plotted out for that, and have one (hopefully two before I leave) blogs for my internship to hopefully post soon!! It’s just been a very good feeling day after a few days of weird bluh IRL.
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asiananeurysm · 1 year
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😴
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loveshotzz · 2 months
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I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter three -
This has got to be the longest crush ever
Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.
warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚
wc: 6.3k
authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡
series masterlist | series playlist
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June -
Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 
                            Baby, I want you to want me.
You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.
All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 
When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 
Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.
”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.
“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”
Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming
Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 
Oh no. 
Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 
“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.
No, no, no, NO.
You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.
Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 
Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.
He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.
”Psst, hey.” 
The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.
”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.
”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.
You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 
“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.
”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.
”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.
Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.
”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.
Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.
”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”
“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.
”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.
”Is it?”
”Absolutely.”
“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.
”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 
Yeah… you were fucked.
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“I’ve got a date tonight!” 
Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 
“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.
”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”
“Yeah, okay, Steve.”
It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”
Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 
“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.
“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”
Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.
”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.
”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.
”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.
”Robin.”
”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.
If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.
”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.
”Maybe.”
”Maybe?!”
”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.
”What?”
”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.
Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.
The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.
The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 
Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 
The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.
”Buckley residen-“
”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”
“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.
”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“
”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.
”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.
”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 
”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.
Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:
Eddie and Steve.
You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.
You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 
It only rings twice.
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.
”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.
“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.
“Yeah, the middle schooler.”
“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“
“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 
“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”
”My shoes are already on.”  
After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 
Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.
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The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.
One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.
You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.
He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.
”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.
When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.
”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”
”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.
”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.
Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 
There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.
A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.
”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.
”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”
He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 
“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 
He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 
Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 
It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 
“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 
She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.
“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”
Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.
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Got me up all night
            all I’m singing is love songs.
“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”
Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 
“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”
”Shut up!”
”Will you stop?!”
You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 
“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.
“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?
”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.
“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”
Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.
”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”
Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.
”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”
You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.
”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’
His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.
”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  
“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.
“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”
It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.
But Robin does.
With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 
With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.
Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.
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You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.
Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.
A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 
The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 
He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.
It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 
The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.
You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 
“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”
Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 
“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”
His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.
Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 
“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.
”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”
”What?”
”Last week,” 
”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”
“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.
“What about now?” 
“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.
”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.
”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 
Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.
”Please tell me you want me to.” 
The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.
“Kiss me, Steve.”
A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.
He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.
Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.
“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.
It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.
He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.
”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.
”Steve -“
”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.
”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.
”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.
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🌻 chapter four
678 notes · View notes
heartateasee · 14 days
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“Intraoffice”
ceo!harry x you
Word Count: 13k
Warnings: a handjob, some comeplay, fingering (f receiving), brief spitting and protected sex.
Plot: Your previous CEO was retiring, and Harry is taking his place. Neither of you were expecting each other to be so young, and after while, you begin to develop a flirty friendship within the workplace. One business trip causes all those feelings to come to fruition.
(I stumbled across this TikTok account the other night, and it caused me to spiral. So, this is the result of that 🤭 Big thank you to my bestie @finelinenina for giving me some ideas for this one as well 🫶🏻)
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
To say that you were going into work nervous today would be an understatement. Today was the day you were going to meet the new CEO of the company, and you were praying to whatever was above that he was kinder than the current CEO - your boss. It wasn’t that he was necessarily a mean man, Mr. Crawford, but he was older, and he liked for his assistant to not be seen or heard. He expected for you to get the job down silently, and while being invisible. It took you a little bit of time, but for the most part, you had your day down to where you and Mr. Crawford never crossed paths - something he very much appreciated.
His coffee was on his desk, as well as a print out of his meetings for the day before he even stepped foot into the office, and by the time he did, you were already behind your own desk working on other tasks. When lunchtime came, you had his lunch hot and ready, once again on his desk, before his late morning meeting finished. And then when it was time for his afternoon coffee, you snuck it into his office during his after lunch meeting.
The other assistants commented on how odd it was that Mr. Crawford made you arrange everything while he was out of his office, and you felt the same way, but it was just routine now. Hell, you had been doing it for the past four years since you were offered the position right after you had completed your internship. It was just normal now.
So this morning, you placed two cups of coffee on Mr. Crawford’s desk as you knew the replacement CEO would be with him, and you printed off two copies of the day's meetings since he would also be shadowing him all day. You didn’t really mind if the new CEO wanted you to be invisible as well, but you hoped that maybe you would start having a little bit of appreciation thrown your way instead of just being met with silence.
Just as you had turned on your heel, going to exit the office, you heard Mr. Crawford’s voice which caused your eyes to widen. He was earlier than usual today, and that caused your heart to race a bit. The last thing you needed was for him to scold you in front of your new boss.
“And just in here is where your office will be,” Mr. Crawford stepped into the doorway, and you stood there like a deer in headlights - fiddling with your fingers behind your back. “Oh, Y/N, I was hoping we’d catch you.”
You had to force off an expression of confusion at his words as you knew he was probably trying to make himself come off as a better boss. “Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’ve just placed your coffees on the desk, as well as your schedules for the day.”
“Thank you,” he nodded at you before moving out of the way, and it was as if time stood still once the man behind him was revealed. “This is Mr. Harry Styles. He’s going to be your new boss as of Monday.”
He was young - way younger than you anticipated. With cropped curls and moss colored eyes, you truly found yourself in a bit of a trance looking at him. He had plush, pillowy looking lips with a nose that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Fuck, it was honestly as if every part of him had been sculpted by the gods.
“Mr. Styles, so nice to meet you,” you extended your hand to him. “I’m Y/N. I’m looking forward to working so closely together.”
Harry smiled at you, and once he took your hand, you immediately felt a warmth spreading all over your body. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Y/N. Thank you for the coffee.”
You felt your face flush at his politeness before your hold dropped. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” you flicked your eyes between the two men before giving them a nod. “Well, Mr. Crawford, you know where to find me if you need me.”
As you went to leave the office, you could feel Harry’s eyes following you, and you peeked over your shoulder - confirming that he was indeed still staring. You subconsciously bit down on your bottom lip as you quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention from Mr. Crawford. Once you were back at your desk, you let out a deep breath as you stared at your computer screen.
Harry wasn’t at all what you were expecting, and little did you know that you weren’t what he was expecting either. 
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
It had been a couple of weeks now that Harry had been your boss, and he honestly hadn’t seen or heard you much. Occasionally you would have to call into his office to let him know that he had a call, or he’d approach your desk if he needed to have a meeting rearranged, but other than that, the situation was very much like the one when you worked for Mr. Crawford.
This morning, however, Harry made it a point to get to the office almost ten minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to try to catch you, to see exactly why you had been avoiding him. He wasn’t really aware of the fact that this is how you did things previously considering Mr. Crawford seemed more than elated to have caught you during your initial introduction. He thought that maybe you didn’t like him, and if that was the case, he needed to make things right.
He greeted a few people as he walked through the lobby, heading towards his office where he hoped you’d either be, or he’d be able to already be there before you came in. As he got closer to his door, he could hear slight shuffling, and he quietly poked his head in to see you organizing his meeting schedule, while placing another stack of papers down beside it. He figured those were the contracts that had been finalized for him to sign. His coffee was still in your hand as you did this, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.
“Good morn-”
Harry couldn’t finish his greeting as a scream left your lips, and you jumped, spilling his coffee all over the front of your dress. You gasped as the hot liquid seeped through the fabric, and the paper cup was quickly dropped to the ground as you tried to pull your dress away from your chest. Thankfully you were wearing one with a high neckline so you wouldn’t be exposing yourself, but the material was a cream color, something you normally knew better than to wear given how clumsy you were.
“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed as he walked forward, and without even thinking, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, assisting you with pulling the fabric away from your skin. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” you sucked in a deep breath as the burning sensation began to fade away, and you swallowed harshly. “It’s fine. I’m a klutz anyway. I’ll make sure to get you another coffee as soon as possible. Thank god it didn’t get on your documents.”
Harry’s eyebrows narrowed as you spoke, and he shook his head. “I could care less about the documents. I’m not worried about them or another coffee. How’s your chest? Did it burn your skin?”
Your eyes darted down to where only you could see the exposed skin from you dress still being pulled, and you shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it,” you dropped your hands, causing Harry’s to leave your wrists, and the damp dress clung to your abdomen once again. 
“Please, take the morning to go home and change and to regather. I can’t tell you how sorry-”
“Oh, I won’t need to go home. I keep a spare change of clothes in my desk. Like I said,” you spoke as you lifted your hand above your head before pointing down at yourself. “Klutz.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your gesture, and he pursed his lips to the side. “Alright then, how about this? You go ahead and change, and then we’ll go out for some breakfast so I can make this up to you.”
“Breakfast? But you have a meeting at-”
“Reschedule it,” Harry said as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re going to the diner down the street. You’re my new meeting.”
Your stomach formed a knot when you heard his words, and you finally found it within yourself to clamp your jaw shut. “Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ll just be a few minutes. I won’t keep you waiting long.”
“Y/N,” Harry stepped forward, and you looked up at him with round eyes. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait however long if it means you’ll feel comfortable again.”
Words escaped you at that point. This was your boss, and you had never had a man show this much concern over you before, not within the first couple weeks of knowing each other at least.
“Mhmm,” you hummed out a squeak before quickly leaving his office. 
You made your way over to your desk to retrieve the extra black trousers, and the maroon colored jumper stashed away in your bottom drawer before making your way into the employee bathroom.
Pulling your stained dress up, you grimaced as it stuck to you slightly since it had just barely begun to dry. You grabbed some paper towels and ran them under the water for a few seconds before beginning to wipe over your chest, and some of your abdomen until you were rid of all the sticky substance.
You pulled on your clothes quickly, not wanting to make Harry wait too much longer, and you exited the bathroom.
Once Harry saw you back at your desk, he left his office as you made the phone call to reschedule his morning meeting to tomorrow instead since you knew he had an opening. You watched as he grabbed your dress from where you had it laying over the back of your chair- eyebrows narrowing as you saw him drape it over the crease of his arm.
You hung up the phone and placed the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing with my dress?”
Harry smirked softly before tilting his head towards the elevators. “Ready to go?”
You nodded in response, and then the two of you were down and out of the building - heading down the street.
“Which diner did you want to go to? I can call ahead and make sure a table is ready,” you stated, fumbling to get your cell out of your purse.
“That’s not necessary, Y/N. If we have to wait, we’ll wait,” Harry shrugged as he started to guide you down a side street, and you began to look around.
“Mr. Styles, I’m not trying to overstep here, but I don’t think there’s a diner down this street.”
“I’m not heading for the diner right now,” he shook his head, and you only walked a few more paces before he was opening up a door to a shop.
He lifted his eyebrows in encouragement for you to step in first as he held the door open, and you did so. Harry followed close behind, and you watched as he approached the counter.
“I’ll need this garment dry cleaned, please,” you heard him state before he was handing your dress over to the elderly woman helping him. “Do you think it could be finished by tomorrow?”
“Oh, Harry, I’ll have it done for you by this evening,” the woman cooed, reaching across the counter to pinch one of his cheeks.
You watched him smile, his deep dimples denting into his skin as he left out a soft laugh. “You’re too good to me, Muriel. We’ll be back whenever you give me a call.”
At this point, you were floored. Not only was he so apologetic about the spill that he practically begged you to join him for breakfast, now he was getting your dress dry cleaned?
Once you stepped back out onto the street, you started back in the direction you came from.
“You really didn’t need to do that,” you told him as you pursed your lips to the side. “I could’ve just taken care of it at home.”
“Nonsense,” Harry said, glancing over at you for a moment as you crossed the street. “If I hadn’t startled you, the coffee wouldn’t have been spilled, therefore, I wanted to make it right.”
“I really need you to stop blaming yourself for that,” you laughed softly as you continued down the sidewalk - not realizing where you were stepping was a bit unlevel.  
It caused your ankle to slightly roll, and you let out a yelp as you tripped. You braced yourself for impact with your lids shut tight, but instead you were met with a solid chest and an arm around your waist. You blinked your eyes open to see Harry looking down at you - his eyebrows up on his forehead.
“You weren’t joking when you said you were a klutz, were you?”
You felt your cheeks flush before shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”
You both shared a chuckle as you separated, and you were grateful to see that you were approaching a diner not too long after your stumble. The last thing you needed was to trip over another uneven sidewalk, or even worse, your own feet. 
Just like before at the dry cleaners, Harry held the door open for you, and you immediately walked over to the host stand - a habit of yours to just do this on your own. Any time Mr. Crawford held a dinner at a restaurant, it had always been your responsibility to make sure they knew you were checking in for their reservation.
“Hello, we’d like a table for two please,” you greeted her with a smile, and watched as she gathered a couple menus before nodding her head for you to follow.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry watching you intently, and you tried to swallow down the nerves starting to bubble in your chest. You had never seen someone look at you the way he did before. You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, to be honest, but all you knew was that it made you nervous. 
The host set your menus down on the table of a booth, and you and Harry both slipped into the opposite benches. You tried your best to focus on narrowing down what you wanted, but this was an unusual circumstance. Never once were you asked by your boss to go to breakfast just the two of you, and as appreciative as you were that Harry had asked you, it was unfamiliar territory.
“Do you see something that you think you’d want?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, and you flashed your eyes up to him over the top of your menu to see that his were already on you. “If not, we can go somewhere else.”
His need to make sure you were constantly comfortable was so foreign that you could hardly wrap your head around it. You realized it had been a few moments since he had asked his question, and you had remained silent. “Oh no,” you shook your head before clearing your throat. “This is perfect. I see a couple things that are peaking my interest actually.”
Harry smiled at you, and you felt a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Get whatever you’d like.”
It was only a few minutes later that a server came over to the table, and Harry ordered a carafe of coffee for the two of you, as well as two waters before extending his hand over to you - asking you silently to order your food first.
“I’ll take the breakfast sampler, please,” you stated, looking over everything that came on it so you didn’t miss any of the options. “I’ll take one sausage and one bacon with that, sunny side up eggs with white buttered toast and hashbrown casserole, please.”
Handing your menu off to the server, you turned your attention back to Harry. His eyes were darting over the laminated paper in his hand before he looked to the server. “You know what? I’ll do the same please, but instead of the sausage and bacon, could I have a bowl of fruit with that?”
The server nodded, taking Harry’s menu as well before walking away from the table.
“For a second I thought you were going to break your vegetarian status,” you said playfully as you leaned forward onto the table - intertwining your fingers together.
Harry mimicked your actions, and you caught sight of the cross tattoo on his hand. You knew he had another right along his wrist as you could see glimpses of the ink sometimes, but you always wanted to ask him if he had any others. 
“As much as I do miss bacon, I’ve been going strong for too many years to break it now,” he smirked, and you were slowly feeling more comfortable with the one on one time together.
You weren’t a nervous individual by nature, to be honest, however, you did tend to be particularly quiet. You’re sure a lot of that had to do with the fact that’s what was asked of you for the past four years. Once conversation struck, and you were interested, you could hold a proper interaction.
“Didn’t mean to tempt you,” you giggled before biting down on your bottom lip.
Harry noticed that was something you must do subconsciously, but he found it alluring. 
The server came back with your two waters, two mugs and the carafe of coffee - setting it all down on the table alongside sugar packets and cream. You and Harry both went to reach for the carafe, fingers brushing against each other, and you pulled your hand back quickly.
“Sorry,” you muttered, dropping your hands into your lap, but Harry held that coy half smile as he poured you each a cup of coffee.
“How do you take yours?” Harry asked, as he set the carafe towards the end of the table against the wall to have it out of the way.
“Two sugars and just a splash of cream, please.”
Your eyes were fixed on his every move as you watched him pour the contents into the mug before he pushed it over your way. He pulled his own mugs towards him - not putting anything in it, as always. 
“Thank you,” both of your hands cupped the warm mug, and you fought off a hum at just how wonderful the heat felt against your palms.
The hustle and bustle of the diner blanketed over the two of you, and for a minute your attention was caught by just how quickly all the servers were moving around to make sure everything was getting taken care of in a timely manner.
“Y/N,” Harry saying your name caught your attention, and you looked back over to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you gave him a nod. “Yeah, of course.”
“Have I done something to make you not like me?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.
Your eyes widened at his question, and you quickly shook your head. “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”
“Well, I never see you.”
You were caught so off guard. Him not seeing you made him think you didn’t like him? You thought you were doing him a favor by not being an interruption. 
“Well, I just thought that maybe Mr. Crawford had talked to you before he left, and maybe you wanted me to keep doing things the way he liked,” you explained.
“Which was?”
It was then you realized that Mr. Crawford didn’t tell Harry at all about how he really didn’t want you being present around him. It was a bit shocking to you that he wouldn’t have mentioned that, considering a lot of businessmen had that preference, and it seemed to be a little hard to find assistants who would obey that rule so well. 
“He didn’t really like seeing me,” you shrugged. “Or hearing me either. That’s why I always have your coffee, schedule and any documents you may need to take care of on your desk and ready to go before you’re there. It’s also why your lunch is delivered while you’re in your late morning meeting.”
An expression you really couldn’t make out rested on Harry’s face, and since he didn’t speak, you continued.
“If I had to run things to his house after work, I’d use my key to let myself in, drop off whatever he needed, and regardless of whether or not he or his wife were home, I would be in and out. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did, it was easy.”
You watched as Harry lifted a hand to run it through the front of his curls, and you forced yourself to look away from the flex of his bicep as he did so. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that’s how you had to do things when he was around. I can promise you that’s not how you have to be with me.”
Slipping your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” you giggled before looking at him again. “It was easier with him because I had his routine down. I was guessing every day with you.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your giggle. It was hard for him to believe someone couldn’t want you to work around them and do your job properly. From the little bits of you he had been able to see, you seemed like the perfect employee. 
“So with that being said,” Harry started. “I’d like my morning cup of coffee after I’ve arrived at the office.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry held up a finger to stop you. “And I’d like to prepare it myself in the kitchen with you, as you prepare your own. Then from there, we can go back to my office, and you can walk me through the meeting schedule for the day. You don’t have to worry about ordering me lunch anymore, I can take care of that myself.”
“What about your afternoon cup of coffee?” You blurted out, making Harry smile even wider than he already was.
“Can I be honest with you?” He waited for you to nod before proceeding. “I was only drinking about a quarter of it before dumping it out. Coffee that late in the day would keep me wired all night.”
“Mr. Styles,” you gasped, jaw dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It seemed a bit impolite, you know? I felt bad that you had gone through the trouble of making it for me, and I didn’t want to just waste it. It also felt wrong to tell you to stop when I thought it was something you enjoyed doing for me.”
You wanted to respond again, but the server was back - placing the appropriate sampler in front of the two of you. You both thanked them as they walked off, and you shook your head as you reviewed the newfound information from him in your head.
“Mr. Styles, I-”
“Y/N.”
“Yes?” You looked at him as he sent you one of the most gentle looks you’ve ever seen.
“You can call me Harry.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
In the few months that followed your breakfast “meeting” with Harry, the two of you developed a really great work relationship. The truth was, the two of you knew that this was a full on friendship as well at this point, but keeping things professional was necessary. If you texted after hours, it was about work only, and if you saw each other outside of the office, it was at work oriented events.
Regardless of that, you each had gotten in the habit of doing little things here and there for each other. You never made a big deal about it, neither of you would tell the other it was you who did it, but you both just knew. 
The first time Harry did something unexpected for you was about a month after your new work agreement. That morning you had noticed that the pink peonies you had in your vase on your desk were on their last leg, and you frowned as you tossed them into the trash. 
“Maybe this time I can get yellow ones,” you had told Stella, the assistant who worked at the desk right next to yours. “I wanted them the first time around, but they were all out.”
That afternoon when you came back from having lunch with Stella, you saw that your vase was full of yellow peonies. Your mouth gaped as you raced over to them, running the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. It was then you caught sight of Harry leaning against the doorway of his office out of the corner of your eye, and you looked over to him. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he gave you a smile, and you stared into his eyes as you gave him a knowing one back.
A couple of weeks ago you walked into the office on a Monday after having a relaxing weekend of self-care, and as you met Harry in the kitchen for your usual cups of coffee, you watched his eyes light up as he took you in. “You got your hair done,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You noticed?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you asked. You were so surprised.
“Yeah,” he nodded, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip. “It looks really good, Y/N.”
You had blushed furiously that day that you were surprised you didn’t combust into flames.
The vibe between the two of you had floated over into flirting territory probably more times than it should, but you both were responsible enough not to take it any further. Sometimes the flirting involved little remarks, or long glances, and even sometimes Harry would take your breath away with a small squeeze to your hip as he moved behind you to reach for something.
You both felt incredibly comfortable around each other, but regardless of that, you had turned Harry’s invitation down for dinner at his house a couple of times. He would only ever offer when you would come by his house after work to drop something off for him, or when you needed to pick something up to be delivered over the weekend. As much as you wanted to tell him yes, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing either of you needed was someone finding out that you were spending personal time outside of work. 
Of course he was the CEO, the one calling most of the shots, but he still had his own people to answer to. You didn’t want to get the two of you in trouble, and Harry didn’t either - that’s why he understood every time you would decline. No matter how many times you had rejected the offer, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to stop asking, and part of him hoped that one day would give in.
Harry had noticed so many little things about you during the time you had spent together. The way you ate crunchy cheetos with chopsticks so you didn’t get your fingers dirty while working was adorable to him, and he picked up on the way you would slightly scrunch up your nose when you were working on a spreadsheet that was proving to be troublesome. 
He noticed the way you came into work each week with a different color of polish coating your impeccably manicured nails. When you told him that you did them yourself one day when he complimented the small polka dot designs you had adorning each of your ring fingers, he was floored. He had become completely infatuated with your presence - if he was going to be completely honest. 
That’s why as he stood at the bar with a pint in his hand and his eyes set on you speaking with a man he didn’t recognize, he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The office had gone out for drinks at the usual spot on a Friday afternoon to celebrate an easy and successful week, and most of the time you were attached to Harry’s hip, however, there seemed to be a law firm that was also occupying said bar.
You had been speaking to this same man for about fifteen minutes now, and Harry watched as he moved slightly closer to you over time. You weren’t a very big drinker, Harry knew that. You’d always have one cocktail while out with everyone, and you’d sip on it the entire time - finishing it up just a few minutes before you’d announce you were leaving.
So, when Harry saw the man gesturing to your drink, clearly asking if you’d like another, his hand tensed around his cold glass before he brought it up to take a large swig of his beer.
He saw that you politely declined, and luckily the man honored it and didn't push. If he had, there’d be a serious problem.
For the remaining hour that you both were at the bar, Harry had managed to get himself properly wasted. It made him sick to watch you openly flirt with some else when all he wanted to do was to be able to do that with you. 
It wasn’t until you walked over to the bar to stand next to Stella for a moment to pay your tab that the man walked back over to his friends. Harry watched him closely, and his stomach churned as he watched the way the man tapped each of his colleagues and pointed at you. The men surrounding him, both younger and older, eyed you up and down like a piece of meat. 
Harry quickly asked to pay his tab, scribbling a hefty tip and his signature on the receipt just in time as he saw you walking back over to the asshole who had every ounce of your attention. After what Harry had just seen him do, there was no way he was going to let you leave with him.
Just as the man was beginning to ask for just your number, Harry practically stumbled up next to you, and your eyes widened as you quickly wrapped an arm around his torso - having him fully lean into your side.
“Harry, you alright?” You asked with narrowed brows.
As you studied him, you could see that he was more drunk than you had ever seen him. Hell, you had really only seen him tipsy before. This was extremely out of the ordinary for him.
“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he slurred just slightly, but he still managed to stay poised. “Jus’ wanted to come and check on you.”
Your eyes flitted over to the man, and you sent him a weak smile. “This your boyfriend?” The man asked, and you heard Harry try to stifle a laugh in the back of his throat before you saw a look take over his eyes - as if a light switch had gone off.
“Actually, I am,” Harry nodded, and your lips parted at that response. “I am Y/N’s boyfriend, and if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time we went home.”
The man scoffed, and Harry watched as his eyes now looked over you with disgust. “Pretty cheap of you to flirt with me for the past hour when your boyfriend’s in the same building, but I guess I kind of understand if he gets this wasted and ignores you all night.”
“Hey, that’s enough!” You snapped, speaking up before Harry had a chance to - even though his mouth was open to do so. His body was clearly working on a delayed system. “You don’t get to speak about him like you know him. You don’t know him at all.”
Shaking your head, you tightened your arm around Harry’s waist as he threw one of his around your shoulders, and as you began to walk away, Harry turned his head to look at the man with a smirk.
“Oh, and one more thing!” You spoke up as you turned around, talking a bit louder so the man could hear you over the music, causing the attention from some of the other patrons to be on you. “Your cologne fucking reeks - smells like a cat pissed all over your suit.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he let out the loudest cackle you had heard within your time together as you pushed open the front door to the bar. As you headed down the street, you could barely walk in a straight line due to having your tall British boss clinging to your side.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” You told him as you approached your car that was parallel parked on the street. Using your free hand, you fished your keys from your purse and unlocked the car before helping Harry into the passenger seat.
Once he was good and buckled, you shut the door and rounded over to your side. You slipped inside and turned on the car as you felt Harry’s eyes lingering on the side of your face. 
“Let me know if you’re going to get sick or something, alright? I’ve never seen you drink this much before,” you commented as you pulled out of your spot and started down the roads towards his house.
Harry didn’t live too far from here, probably around five minutes maximum, so you really didn’t mind taking him home.
“Yeah, but ‘m not gonna get sick. I have an iron stomach,” Harry stated as he patted his palm against his covered abdomen. “Haven’t puked from drinking in years.”
The car ride was silent except for the light music playing on the radio, and at first you thought Harry had fallen asleep, but when you glanced over, he was just staring at his hands in his lap. 
Once you pulled into his driveway, you got out and went over to his side to assist him - supporting him in almost every way as you stepped up onto his porch. You got his keys out of his suit jacket to unlock the door before the two of you were heading inside.
“Didn’t like that guy talking to you,” Harry mumbled as you tossed his keys into the bowl on the table near the door.
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” you laughed sarcastically. You weren’t irritated by any means, but it was all just a little confusing to you why he was acting that way. “Called yourself my boyfriend.”
Harry hummed as he nodded, as you started up his stairs to where you knew his bedroom was. “I could be, you know?”
“What?” You looked over at him quickly, stopping the progress you were making on the stairs.
You soon realized that was a big mistake as Harry started to sway, and your eyes widened as you started leaning backwards. “Okay, hey!” You exclaimed, pulling him forward again before continuing to walk. “About sent us down the damn stairs, Harry.”
“I said, I could be your boyfriend,” Harry repeated himself, completely ignoring the almost tumble once you got him into his bedroom.
“Alright, big guy,” you couldn’t help but let out an actual giggle now as you patted him on the chest. “I’m going to lay you out some pajamas, and you’re going to change while I go downstairs and get you some medicine and some water. Then I’m gonna get you tucked in and leave.”
“I mean it,” Harry’s eyebrows narrowed, clearly offended even in his drunken state that you weren’t taking him seriously. “I like you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you’re bright - you light up a whole room when you walk into it.”
Never once did you know that’s how he felt, but you obviously couldn’t be sure given his current alcohol level. “Harry,” you said softly as you guided him to sit on the end of his bed. “We can talk about this more when you’re sober, alright?”
You almost felt guilty. If this really was how he felt, you were sure this wouldn’t be the type of situation for him to tell you. You knew how Harry was just from the little things he had done for you over your time together. He was sentimental, and he treasured when things were genuine. This isn’t how he would want this to go.
“No, no,” Harry reached forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him which caused you to gasp. He rested his forehead against your stomach, but you kept your arms limp by your sides. “The thing is, ‘m too much of a coward to tell you when I’m sober. Never been so intimidated by someone in my life.”
You? Intimidating?
Yeah, he was definitely letting the pints and shots he had do the talking.
“Look, I can initiate the conversation next time we see each other that way we can ease into it, but you’re going to regret doing this right now.”
Lifting his head, Harry stared up at you with his droopy green eyes. He moved one hand to rest on your hip, while his other just barely reached to wrap around the back of your neck. “Thought about kissing you,” his lips rolled into his mouth for just a moment before continuing to speak. “Think about it all the time.”
The truth was, you had thought about kissing him too, and you’re sure if you were the one spilling your guts right now, you’d use the same phrasing - you thought about it all the time.
“Come on, H,” the nickname you rarely used slipped from your mouth as you tried to calm him down a bit more. “Let me get you some pajamas so you can change.”
You wrapped your hands around each of his wrists to break his hold on you, and you walked over to his dresser to pull out a pair of joggers and a shirt. 
By the time you turned around, Harry was on his back still fully clothed with his mouth wide open. In the twenty seconds it had taken you to get him proper pajamas, he had passed out.
“You’ve gotta be joking,” you mumbled as you walked back over to him, tossing the pajamas onto the top of the dresser before doing so.
Lowering yourself to the ground, you untied each of his shoes and slipped them off of his feet before tossing them to the side. You stood up, tugging his body around so you could at least get his suit jacket off. Unfortunately, the rest of it would be staying on. You didn’t feel comfortable changing him without his permission as this situation had never happened before.
With every bit of strength you could muster up, you pulled Harry further back onto the bed so that his head was on one of his pillows, and you tucked him underneath the sheets. 
You went downstairs to grab the glass of water that you had talked about before, as well as two Tylenol and a granola bar. Going up to his bedroom one last time, you placed all the items onto his nightstand, and retrieved his phone out of his jacket pocket to plug it in before you exited the house all together.
You weren’t sure if Harry was going to remember this evening or not. And you weren’t really sure if you wanted him to.
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
“Y/N, are you almost ready?” You heard Harry’s voice, followed by a tapping of knuckles against your hotel room door.
You and Harry were out of town for a work event, and you were just putting the finishing touches on your look, however, you hadn’t been able to put your dress on yet as you just finished curling your hair.
Making sure that your robe was tied securely around you, you walked over to the door and opened it - your jaw immediately dropping as you saw how delicious Harry looked in his suit.
“Oh my,” you gasped before you could stop yourself, but once your eyes met his, you cleared your throat. “You look spectacular, Harry.”
You could see a pink tint washing over his cheeks, and it was then you noticed the garment bag he had draped over the crease of one of his arms.
“Thank you,” he smiled before tilting his chin towards the bag. “I know you probably brought your own dress, but I saw this the other day when I picked up my suit, and it reminded me of you.”
You watched as he extended the garment bag to you, and you shook your head. “Harry, I don’t know if I could-”
“Please, Y/N, it would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it. If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to.”
You wanted to ask how he knew your size, but you figured he made a mental note when taking your dress to the dry cleaners that one day. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you took the bag from him. “I just need to change and then I’m ready to go.”
Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you down in the lobby. Do you want me to order you a quick drink?”
“That’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’ll have a drink at the event.”
Harry knew that would probably be the only one you’d have for the evening given your track record. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
You kept your eyes on Harry’s retreating frame as he walked down the hotel hallway, and you sighed as you shut the door.
It had been a few weeks since Harry’s confession after the bar. When you saw him at work on Monday, he apologized profusely for how drunk he had gotten, but he also thanked you for getting him home. You didn’t want to just flat out ask if he remembered what happened by reciting exactly what he said, so you asked him if he remembered almost pulling the both of you down the stairs instead.
That’s when he confessed he didn’t remember a thing after approaching you at the bar. Since he didn’t remember anything, you decided that you’d leave it. It was probably for the best anyway, and you didn’t want to embarrass him.
But the truth was, Harry lied.
He remembered everything, which shocked him given how drunk he was, and he was so ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe that he rambled to you about how he felt, how he wanted to be your boyfriend. Not to mention he spilled that he thought about kissing you all the time.
Harry knew it was wrong to lie to you, considering it wasn’t like you could forget what happened. Technically neither could he, but at least he could act like he did.
The fact that you accepted the dress made him happy. There had been a weight in his chest since everything happened because things didn’t feel like they used to between the two of you, and he had no one to blame for that by himself. He didn’t lie about how he came to find the dress though. He really did see it in the window a couple shops down from where he got his suit. He just hoped that you liked it.
Leaning against the bar in the lobby, Harry had ordered himself a short glass of tequila on the rocks - just something to ease his nerves as he waited for you. He was hoping the fact that it was just the two of you on this trip that things could go back to the way they were. You were here together for the weekend, just arriving today and then heading home Monday morning.
He missed the playful banter between the two of you, but most of all, he missed your giggles. He had only heard one or two since that night, and it was eating away at him that he was the reason they went away.
Just as he was sipping the rest of his drink, he heard the clicking of heels against the tiled floor of the lobby, and he turned to look towards the elevators.
Harry thought he was going to fall through the floor just at the sight of you in that dress. He watched as your eyes searched around before falling onto him, and you sent him a small smile as you started to make your way over. 
“Wow, Y/N,” Harry met you halfway, having finished off his drink and already paid his tab. “You're stunning.”
You knew you were blushing due to his compliment, so you tried your best to change the subject off of your appearance.
“Let’s just hope I make it through the night without breaking an ankle in these heels,” you joked, causing a soft laugh to leave Harry.
“I’ll make sure you’re steady on your feet, don’t worry.”
You each took a moment to take each other in once more before Harry was extending his arm out to you. “Shall we? The car is waiting out front for us.”
Your eyes dwelled on his arm for a moment before you closed the gap between the two of you completely, cupping the crease of his elbow as he started to lead you towards the doors of the hotel.
Once outside, the driver opened the back door of the car, and when he went to extend his hand for you to take for assistance while getting in, Harry made it a point to stand right in front of him and offer you his hand instead. You couldn’t fight the small smirk that pushed its way forward, and you took Harry’s hand before entering the back seat.
You slid all the way over, watching as Harry got in right behind you, and the driver shut the door.
“Didn’t want him holding my hand?” You asked, raising a brow.
Harry rubbed his hand along the back of his neck before shrugging. “I guess not.”
It reminded you of him saying he didn’t like that man talking to you at the bar, and for some reason, the thought of him being jealous over you caused a new feeling to ignite in your stomach.
Did it turn you on?
You were drawn out of your thoughts as you heard the driver’s side door shut, and you started off towards the event venue.
“Nervous?” You questioned, knowing this was Harry’s first big event since taking on his position.
“A little bit, yeah.”
But not because of the event. He was nervous because of you.
“Me too,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t been to an event like this in a while. I’d come along with Mr. Crawford, but I’d stay at the hotel.”
Harry’s brows narrowed. “He didn’t allow you to accompany him?”
“No, not seen and not heard, remember?” You shrugged. “It’s okay though. I used to just order a bunch of room service, or I’d pay the hotel spa a little visit. He covered all the expenses which was the silver lining.”
“But still. That’s awful to make you travel all this way for you not to be able to participate in the main reason for coming.”
“To be honest, I probably would’ve had a terrible time. He was no fun,” you laughed softly, causing a small smile to grace Harry’s lips. “Not like you.”
“You think I’m fun?” Harry tilted his head to the side playfully.
“Definitely the most fun boss I’ve ever had. But I’ve only had one other than Mr. Crawford, and that was when I worked at a clothing store,” you joked.
“You wanna know a secret?” Harry asked.
Your stomach swirled a little bit at his question, but you nodded. “Sure.”
“I’ve never been a boss before. I wasn’t CEO at my last office even though I was practically doing the job. The other guy just got to be the face for all my hard work.”
“Oh my god, Harry, that’s awful,” you shook your head. “That’s seriously messed up.”
“It was, but I would’ve never left had I actually been the CEO, therefore, I would’ve never met you,” the words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could process, and you watched as his eyes widened.
His slip up caused your heart to flutter, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get too giddy over it. Harry made it clear that his confession that one night was just drunk rambling, so it was clear your affection wasn’t reciprocated in the same manner.
“Very true,” you decided to finally respond after a moment. “I could’ve had another Mr. Crawford if it weren’t for you.”
The conversation came to an end as you approached the venue, and Harry got out of the car first - extending his hand out just like he had when you got in. You took it, and once you were out of the car, he offered you his arm just like he had back at the hotel, and your hand once again made its home in the crease of his elbow.
The two of you walked into the building, and when you saw just how many people there were, you subconsciously curled yourself into Harry’s side a little more.
“Lots of people, yeah?” Harry asked, and he turned his head to look down at you. Even with your heels, he still stood taller.
Biting down your bottom lip, the two of you ran your eyes over each other's faces before you answered. “Mhmm.”
You noticed the way that Harry’s eyes focused in on your mouth, and for the first time, you wished he’d actually kiss you. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours, but you knew it was wishful thinking.
“Mr. Styles!” The call of his name caused the two of you to separate, and you looked over to see the investor who had invited you to this event. “And Y/N, you look amazing.”
The man placed his hand on your hip, and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes flitted over to Harry as he did so, and you could see his fists flexing by his side.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Noble,” you said once he pulled away from you. “Thank you again for the invitation.”
“Of course, Harry here was also very insistent that you be joining him, even though it was already my intention to have you here.”
You could see Harry’s cheeks flush as Mr. Noble spoke, and you knew that wasn’t necessarily something he wanted you to know.
“Well still, I appreciate it very much.”
Mr. Noble nodded before extending his hand behind him. “Bar is all the way in the back, and there’s servers walking around with hor-d’oeuvres, so please, help yourselves.”
Once he walked away, you looked over to Harry. “Should we get ourselves some drinks?”
“Sure,” Harry placed his hand along your lower back as you made your way through the sea of people.
Just the smallest touch from him could warrant butterflies flying in your tummy, and as much as you loved it, you also hated it. You hated it because you knew those butterflies would never lead to anything. Sometimes you wondered if you’d be stuck with this stupid crush on your boss forever.
“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked you once you approached the bar, and you knew you needed something strong to ease your mind.
“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”
Harry’s eyebrows raised at that, and part of him wanted to question you about it, but he decided against it.
“A tequila on the rocks, and a whiskey on the rocks, please,” he spoke to the bartender for the two of you, and you turned your attention to the floor of people conversing around you.
It wasn’t until you felt the side of Harry’s finger gliding against the outside of your arm that you looked back to him, and you saw he was extending your drink out to you.
“Thank you.”
You took it from him, taking a large sip to start which caused you to wince.
“Everything okay?” Harry’s face showed his concern.
“Just a lot of people,” you repeated his observation from earlier, and even though Harry didn’t believe you, he let it be.
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in ten minutes!” The announcement rang overhead, and you felt Harry’s hand against your back once more.
“We should find our seats.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
You ended up having another whiskey, which Harry knew was extremely unusual for you, and it caused him to worry. Even though you still seemed just fine, he didn’t want you overdoing it. You had mentioned to him once that you didn’t like the feeling of being drunk, and that’s why you only ever stuck to one drink.
The event had wrapped up, and you and Harry found yourselves back in the lobby of your hotel.
“Feeling okay?” Harry checked in on you as he pressed the up button for the elevator, and you nodded.
“Just fine,” you answered, which was the truth.
The extra drink didn’t have you feeling very different, it was just helping you calm those nerves that had been wracking your system for the past few hours.
As you both stepped into the elevator, you ran your hands over your dress which had you realizing you hadn’t thanked Harry for buying it for you.
“This dress is so beautiful, Harry,” you told him, and he looked over at you as you did. “Thank you for buying it for me. I know it must have been expensive.”
Harry waved his hand in the air softly while the other stayed tucked into his pocket. “I didn’t even think about that when buying it for you. Just saw it and knew you had to have it.”
“It’s probably the prettiest piece of clothing I own now,” you laughed, which brought a smile to his face.
The elevator doors opened, and you both started towards your rooms which were right next to each other. After fishing your room key out of your clutch, you turned to face Harry for a moment.
“I had a really good time this evening. I hope that you did too.”
“I did,” Harry nodded. “It was nice seeing them raise all that money for charity, and I was happy to be a part of it.”
Part of you hoped he would have complimented the company he had instead of just speaking about work, but you didn’t know why you had expected that to begin with. 
He’s your boss. That’s all. 
You had thought for a moment there that it was maybe leading to something more, but with the way Harry had been acting ever since the night you took him home, you knew that was no longer the case.
“Well, goodnight,” you said softly, forcing a smile on your lips before swiping your key and entering your room. 
Your mood was officially deflated, and you hated that you felt that way. You had no right to. You indulged too far into the fantasy you had created in your head. You had no one to blame for that but yourself.
Sighing, you tossed your clutch onto the dresser with your room key before heading into the bathroom. You reached your hands behind you to pull down the zipper, but it wasn’t budging.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed as you turned and looked over your shoulder in the mirror so you could properly see the zipper, and it was then you noticed it was caught on the fabric of your dress.
You closed your eyes as you took in a deep breath as the realization that you were going to have to ask Harry for help dawned on you.
Grabbing your room key, you walked out of your room and over to his door. You had your fist raised above the wooden surface for a few seconds before you finally found the courage to knock. At first you didn’t hear anything, and you thought maybe he was in the shower and couldn’t hear you. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock again, in case he had heard it and was ignoring you, but just as you turned to walk back to your room, you heard the door open.
You looked over to see him standing in the doorway, and you couldn’t help but drop your jaw as you saw that he was just wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips. 
Your eyes ran over the ink that was etched into his skin, particularly the ones that draped over his hips, and the large butterfly on his stomach.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, clearing your throat once you forced yourself to look at only his eyes. “My…my zipper. It’s caught.”
Harry’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped to the side. “Come on in - let me have a look.”
You walked into his room, and you glanced into the bathroom to see that his toiletry bag was open.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stated, figuring he was just about to get in the shower.
“Nonsense, Y/N, you’re not bothering me. There’s no need to apologize. Turn around so I can see.”
Swallowing harshly, you turned around and brought all your hair over one of your shoulders so he had proper access to the zipper. You soon felt his hands on you, one cupping your ribcage while the other fiddled with the zipper.
“Oh, I see,” he mumbled, and you knew he was mostly talking to himself.
His hand gave your ribcage a small squeeze before he brought it up to meet the other one. You felt a bit of tugging for a few seconds before the sound of the zipper being pulled down filled your ears, and you felt the dress loosening against your torso.
“There you go,” Harry whispered, and you felt his fingertips dancing along the tops of your shoulders.
You kept your back to him, looking at him over your shoulder as you licked over your bottom lip. By the look in his eyes, you could tell he was pondering over something, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself before speaking.
“Are you thinking of kissing me?”
Harry’s lips parted at your words, and you held a hand up against the top of your dress to keep it in place as you turned to face him.
“You told me you think about it all the time that night,” you told him, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “And I should have told you that I think about it too.”
Stepping forward, Harry got rid of all the space between the two of you as he brought a hand up to cradle your chin in his palm. “Y/N, please don’t be playing with me.”
You shook your head as you let your freehand glide over the forearm of the hand connected to your face. “I’m not, Harry. I know it’s wrong, and that we’d be stepping over a line, but I can’t help it. I’m so enamored by you.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Harry moved his face forward, but you felt him tilting your head to the side - giving him full access to one of the sides of your neck. His lips grazed your skin, and as little as the contact was, you couldn’t stop the moan that left you.
“Please,” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around his wrist and giving it a squeeze. “Please, Harry.”
It was then that his lips fully connected to your neck, and he kissed his way down over the top of your shoulder. Your fingers dented his skin as he then made his way back up to your jawline. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”
“You,” it came out as a whine unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. You were a woman blinded by your want for him. “I need you.”
All time stood still as Harry’s mouth finally met yours - causing you to let out a small gasp. He took this as an invitation to seal his lips around your bottom one, and he lightly sucked it into his mouth. Another moan left you, and it was then you moved your hand from your chest - your dress falling to the ground around your heeled feet as you pressed your body against his.
Harry’s hands then grazed down your body until they met the rounds of your ass, kneading them softly before he dropped them lower to the back of your thighs. He was then lifting you off the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist - ankles crossed along his lower back as he walked you over to his bed, and you kicked your heels off your feet.
He laid you down gently right in the middle of the bed, and you finally opened your eyes to see him hovering over you. His eyes were drinking you, and you could tell he was admiring your breasts as they heaved up and down from the deep breaths you had to remind yourself to take. His cross pendant swung back and forth before resting against your chest when he leaned down to place another sweltering kiss on your mouth.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Something that you had imagined in your mind for so long was now becoming a reality.
Your hands trembled as you brought them up to rest on his pecs, and you could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard as yours.
“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” Harry pulled away from your lips with a soft smack, and you couldn’t help but panic at his words. “I lied.”
You waited a moment before speaking. “You lied about what?”
“That night. I do remember confessing everything to you, but I was so embarrassed that it felt better for me to act like I had forgotten it. I was so nervous that I had ruined everything, and I thought lying would make things okay. I was wrong for doing that.”
“And you meant what you said?”
Harry nodded. “Meant every fucking word. I’m crazy about you.”
This time you initated the kiss as you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck, and you brought his mouth down against yours once more.
Your other hand journeyed down his chiseled chest to the waistband of his joggers, and you tugged at them - signaling that you wanted them off. Your eyes were closed as you felt him moving around, but they shot open when you could feel his hard length resting against your stomach. You had expected him to be wearing underwear.
Disconnecting your mouths, you looked down to see his cock - hard and leaking against your skin.
“Sorry,” he blushed furiously as you briefly looked up at him before looking back down. “I’m just so turned on right now. I’ve thought about this for so long.”
“Me too,” you nodded, running your tongue along your cheek before you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft.
Keeping your eyes on his face, you watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing deepened once you began to work your hand over him. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” You let your hand leave him for just a second to spit into your palm before you started your movements right back up. “Can’t even fit my hand around you, Harry. You’re so big.”
Your dirty talk shocked him. For someone so quiet and reserved in the office, you sure did have a way of speaking in the bedroom.
“Pretty little hand just squeezing me, hm?” Harry knew he could dish it right back to you - the thought of the two of you going back and forth causing another blurt of precome to drip from his leaky slit. “I could come just from this, to be honest. Fucked my fist so many times thinking about you. Felt wrong to moan your name, but I couldn’t help it.”
“Thought about me while touching yourself?” You earned a nod from Harry in response. “Thought about you too when I’d have my toy sucking on my clit. I always pictured it was your perfect lips playing with me. I would moan your name too. I had to. I could only get off when thinking of you.”
“Who knew you were so dirty?” Harry chuckled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. My little minx.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, but you nodded as well. “Just yours. Only want to be yours.”
Your hand began to work him faster, and you moved your free hand down to swipe your fingers along the precome that was continuously dripping onto your stomach. Harry’s eyes were glued to your every move, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you smeared his arousal over his lips before slipping your fingers between your own.
“So yummy,” you commented as you held his eyes. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”
“Fuck,” Harry groaned before licking over his lips. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Please,” you mimicked your plea from earlier. “I want it all over my tummy.”
“Want me painting your skin with my come?”
“Again, I need you to,” you moved your legs around to where one of Harry’s toned thighs was pressed right against your covered cunt.
You began to rock your hips back and forth, a hardy moan flooding out of your throat as you did so. Your clit was throbbing - begging for attention as your hand continued to glide up and down Harry’s prick.
“Oh my god,” Harry gasped, and you looked up just in time to see his eyes shutting again with a slack jaw. “For fuck’s sake.”
It was then you felt his come shooting out, coating your stomach and even reaching up to your breasts as you rode him through his orgasm. Once you knew he was finished, you couldn’t help but tighten your hand once more, and you watched as you milked another string of come from him.
“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry dropped his forehead against you, but he kept his torso hovering yours.
Still mesmerized by his load on your stomach, you didn’t even notice his hand had slipped between your legs until you felt his fingers gliding through your drenched folds - your underwear tenting around his hand.
“Oh,” you whimpered, tossing your head back. “Feels good.”
“Barely touching you, baby,” Harry chuckled as he used his index and middle fingers to spread you apart - the pad of his thumb pressing down against your pulsing clit.
You moaned as he began to move his digit in circles, and your eyes followed him as he leaned down. Sticking out his tongue, he licked over your nipples, cleaning up his come as he sucked on them. It caused you to clench down around nothing, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
“Yes,” you gasped as his teeth grazed against the pebbled bud.
“Like having your little nipples played with, honey?” Harry asked, smirking up at you. “Pretty little things they are. I knew they would be. Pretty nipples, and a pretty pink pussy. Never seen something as pretty as you in my life.”
“And I���ve never seen something as pretty as you,” you breathed as he started giving attention to your other nipple as well.
Soon his mouth had worked to clean all of his come off of your skin, and it was then that he moved his hand around to have his middle and ring fingers slipping inside of your welcoming entrance while his other hand pulled your underwear off.
“Christ, Y/N,” Harry groaned, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“It’s been a while,” you confessed as you bucked your hips up against his hand - feeling the heel of his palm against your clit.
“How long?” Harry began to move his fingers with more purpose, and you choked as a moan got stuck in your throat.
“Three…three years.”
Harry’s movement stilled, evoking a whine from you as you snaked your hips around.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” you swallowed, using this little pause to try and catch your breath. “Haven’t had anyone since my last boyfriend. I don’t go out much, and I don’t like dating apps. I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet anyone.”
Harry leaned down to massage his lips against yours briefly before pulling back - knocking his nose against yours. “I’m about to give your the best fucking of your life, you understand?”
Another moan left you at his words, and you nodded. “Please.”
Harry’s fingers left you, and he got off the bed to walk over to his wallet on top of the dresser. You watched as he retrieved the square foil package from it before he climbed back onto the bed over you.
“You’re sure about this?” Harry asked. “This…this changes everything.”
“I’m sure,” you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Harry. I know that I want this.”
“I’ve wanted you too, Y/N. You have no idea how badly.”
You heard the sound of the package opening, and you looked down to watch Harry roll the rubber over his length - him having grown fully hard once again.
“Ready?” Harry lined himself up with your entrance, and you felt his head pressing just lightly against your fluttering hole.
“Yes, yes. Please, fuck me.”
With the angling of his hips forward, Harry’s tip entered you, and you groaned as you felt him stretching you completely.
“Gotta relax, honey,” Harry’s hands reached down to massage your hips. “Breathe in with me. I’ll count. One, two, three, four, five.”
You each let the deep breath back out, and he smiled down at you.
“Again,” he instructed you, but this time, he began sinking his length inside of you as he spoke each number. “One, two, three, four, five.”
Eventually he bottomed out completely, sheathed inside your warm cunt, and you felt yourself clench down around him.
“You’re so big,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps. “Never had anything this big inside me before.”
“Never? Not even a toy?” Harry asked as he drew his hips back before thrusting in again.
“No,” you shook your head. “My biggest is hardly half your size. I’m not the biggest fan of dildos or vibrators. My suction toy gets me off just fine.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that too much anymore,” Harry laughed as his hands now cupped your breasts. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every damn day.”
He gave you three aggressive thrusts as he spoke those last three words, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yes.”
“That sound good to you, baby?” Harry started up a steady pace - his balls slapping against your rear entrance as he did so. “Have you coming on my fingers, my tongue or my cock every day? You’re never going to go without, understand?”
“Mhmm,” you mewled, arching your tits further into his palms. “I understand.”
For a few moments, only soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the sound of your skin slapping together as Harry satiated your sexual hunger. You had never been fucked like this before in your life. He was taking you with such precision - each of his thrusts filled with a purpose. The purpose being to get you off by any means necessary.
“You know what else I’ve thought about?” Harry asked after capturing your lips in a brief kiss. “Thought about taking you in my office, especially on those days where you wear those tight pencil skirts, or those flowy dresses, and I think about bending you over my desk - taking you from behind.”
“Yeah?” You stared up at him. “Thought about taking you at work too. I thought about - uh - riding you as you sit in your desk chair, and I wouldn’t even care if people heard. I see the way Darlene in marketing looks at you. I’d want her to know it was me who got to have your cock.”
Your words caused Harry to give you an extra hard thrust, and you could feel his tip punching against your most sensitive spot.
“I would hope they all hear,” Harry tilted his head down, spitting against your clit before beginning to use the tips of his fingers to play with it. “Hope they all know it’s me who gets to fuck you this good.”
“Promise me,” your hands found their way to Harry’s back, and you dragged your nails down his skin. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in your office first thing Tuesday morning. I’ll wear my prettiest underwear - just for you.”
“Better be just for me,” Harry growled as he smacked your wet pearl. “I’m the only one who gets this cunt now.”
“The only one,” you agreed. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”
“And I only want you. God, I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve finally got you underneath me.”
“Want to stay underneath you,” you babbled as you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach. “Harry, I’m close.”
Harry’s fingers applied more pressure to your clit, and it was then that your orgasm washed over you. You could feel yourself gushing past Harry’s covered cock - your body trembling as your knees squeezed against his hips.
“Oh my god,” your head lulled to the side as you started to come back down. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
“Look so pretty when you come,” Harry shook his head, still not believing that he was seeing you like this. “It’s a fucking honor to see something as gorgeous as that.”
You started to lift your hips up to meet his movements, and you could feel yourself clenching down around him again. If he kept this up, you’d definitely be having another orgasm before you were finished.
“You feel so good around my cock, Y/N. Never had a cunt fit me so perfectly. Take a look.”
One of Harry’s hands cupped the back of your neck, and he sat up just a bit as he pulled your head up. You peered down, spreading your legs further as you watched his thick cock glide in and out of you.
“Look at that,” you bit down on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving you as you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. “Just clinging to you, huh?”
Harry hummed in response, and you could feel his thrusts growing a bit uneven. “I’m about to come, baby.”
“Me too. I’m going to come again, Harry. I want you to come with me.”
After a few more thrusts, you felt absolute pleasure blanket over you for the second time, and you watched as your orgasm coated him completely. It was then you looked up to see Harry’s face contorting once again, and this time he looked even more glorious than before as he emptied himself inside of the condom.
Making sure that you both rode your highs out completely, Harry continued his movements for just a few more seconds before he collapsed on top of you.
Your bodies were sticky with sweat as you clung to each other, and your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. This all felt so right - that the both of you were exactly where you needed to be in each other’s arms
You opened your eyes when you felt Harry’s head tilting up, and you both smiled at each other. “Hi,” he said, fingertips dipping into the ridges of your ribs.
“Hi,” you giggled, and you saw his face brighten even more at that. 
“I missed that sound,” he told you. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
“Well, I think you’ll be hearing a lot of it now,” you smirked, pushing some of his curls off his forehead.
“I can’t wait.”
Harry gave you a quick kiss as he pulled out, and he helped you into the bathroom before giving you privacy to clean yourself up. He discarded the condom in the trash can before slipping back into his joggers.
Once you were out of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes ran over your naked form as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck to bring him down for another kiss as Harry rested his hands against your hips.
“So, I guess now if someone at the bar asks if you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to lie this time,” you teased.
“Oh yeah?” Harry’s smirk that you’ve come to love so much crept its way into his lips. “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed. “If you want to be.”
“Are you kidding me? Been dying to be able to say that and actually have it be real. I wanna fucking tell everyone that I’m yours, but I’ll make sure we’re careful at the office. It’ll all work out.”
You both shared another kiss before you just hovered your lips over his.
“So…round two?”
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honeybubblebeeeeee · 2 months
Note
need pt 2 of the arranged marriage wit toji im begging
THE WAY YALL BLEW THAT UP AND I DIDNT THINK IT WAS GOOD OMG <333333 HERE IS MORE I HOPE I PUT THE SAME CRACK IN THIS ONE
Arranged marriageAU!Toji x reader PART 2
CW: Toji had gone on a business trip just when you and Megumi get sick, what will you do
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You knew it was going to be a bad weekend when you woke up in the middle of the night to a raging fever. You squinted at your phone as you picked it up - 3 am. Fuck.
Megumi slept soundly on the baby monitor thankfully. A sick baby while you were sick was not something you wanted to deal with. Toji was away on a work trip this weekend and wouldn't be home until monday so in the event something were to actually happen this would not be the weekend for it.
You crept to the kitchen, throwing back Tylenol and brewing some tea. Every muscle and bone in your body ached, your head swam and you could feel a sheen of sweat along your skin.
As you sipped your tea and the Tylenol kicked in, slowly you were feeling better. Things could be worse but for the moment you could deal.
Until the faint sound of crying hit your ears. You leaned your head back preparing yourself for what you knew was coming.
Quickly you went up the stairs and to Megumi's room. His crying only got louder as you opened the door to see him standing in his crib, his face flushed red as tears stained his cheeks.
"Megumi baby what's wrong?" You felt the heat radiating off of him as you picked him up. "You have a fever too don't you?" He wailed as you tried to feel his forehead and to your dismay he was definitely feverish. You cooed at him as your tried to soothe his screaming.
"Maybe a bottle will help 'Gumi? Do you want a bottle?" He took a short breath before wailing again as you took him downstairs to the kitchen. It was safe to assume you weren't going back to sleep.
It was hard to do anything while he flailed and screamed in your ear. "Megumi it's okay you're okay baby but I gotta put you down for a second." you placed him on the floor beside you but he only then stood, gripping your leg as he wailed. You felt terrible to say the least.
You made his bottle as quickly as you could with him latched to you. A few drops of children's Tylenol to hopefully soothe his raging fever.
"Okay baby come here. You want up?" His cries died off as you picked him up and gave him the bottle. The tears dried and you paced around as you bounced him, hoping to soothe him back to sleep.
Eventually his eyes closed, and quietly you walked up the stairs and to his room. Just as you set him down and went to walk away his eyes opened and he cried once again. "Megumi, I don't know what to do." You picked him up again, his cries softened to sniffles as you bounced him. Your body ached with every movement.
He settled, his head resting on your shoulder but his eyes still open. The sun would be up but you were both riding on no sleep and a tired Megumi was not something you needed on top of you both being sick.
Walking to your room you tried to lay him down in your bed with you but he only cried. Sighing you stood and picked him up again. "I don't know how to help gumi. I'm right here. Mama doesn't feel good either." Nothing soothed him.
The entire day continued. Your own fever raged on, your head pounding as Megumi cried and wailed at every point. You had never wished so badly for Toji to be home.
It was late in the evening now on saturday, Toji wasn't supposed to be home until monday but you couldn't do this. You could feel yourself getting irritated and upset. It wasn't Megumi's fault and it wasn't your own either.
You stared at his contact on your phone. Would he be mad? Would he even do anything to help? He probably wouldn't even answer. Sighing you pressed the call button, Megumi crying in your other ear as you tried to soothe him at the same time.
It rang and rang, you felt tears brimming as you listened to it. He wasn't going to pick up. You pulled it away from your ear ready to hang up.
"Y/N? Is everything okay?" His deep voice sounded through the phone, you could have cried. You wanted to. You were.
Sniffling you stuttered trying to find your words. "Toji I'm sorry I-I-"
"What's wrong? Is that Megumi crying?" You didn't even notice the concern in his voice, over the tears and crying.
"Toji can you come home please? I can't-"
Before you could even finish he cut you off. "I'll come home immediately. It'll be a couple hours though. Are you going to be okay or do you want me to call someone?"
A sob left you, you couldn't even think you were so tired. "I-I'll manage for a little longer I think. I'm so tired Toji."
"I know mama, you're doing good. I'll be there soon okay? If you change your mind and want me to call someone I will just text me okay."
A shuddering breath left you, Megumi's own hiccups from crying sounded into the phone. "okay, thank you.."
"I gotta hang up now. Text me if you need anything okay?" The call ended and silent tears left you quietly as you pushed the damp hair out of Megumi's eyes. Both of you were feverish and no medication was bringing it down. "dada is coming home. You miss dada Megumi?" His little hands rubbed his wet eyes as you swayed softly hoping to soothe him. "I miss him too baby."
What you didn't know was Toji had missed you too. Since that night in his room, he's only been plagued with thoughts of you. He thought going on this work trip that he originally had not agreed to would allow him to put space between you two. To build the walls around his heart again but here you were, melting it. He had never moved so quickly after hearing you crying through the phone.
It had been an hour, then two, then three. It was pushing midnight and Megumi's cries never stopped. No matter what you did he continued. You had cried with him. Had cried even hard when he was sick all over you. He cried even harder when you had to quickly put him down to rush to the bathroom to be sick yourself.
Relief swept over you as the lock turned and Toji's large frame came into view. He kicked off his shoes and threw down his bag before swiftly moving towards you. Still in his suit, not even taking a moment to strip off his jacket. His hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you and a crying Megumi into him. Kissing the top of your head, he mumbled against you. "You did good mama. Let me take him."
You mind reeled at the affection but you were too tired and too sick to say anything. Toji took Megumi from you, mumbling something to him as his tears slowed. "Come upstairs." You nodded, following behind him. At the top of the stairs you went to turn towards the hall with Megumi's room but Toji grabbed your hand with his free one. "Come this way."
You looked at him with large eyes but followed him anyway. He pulled you along to his room, past the sitting room, into the bedroom and then the large bathroom. Toji dropped your hand, still holding on to a sniffling Megumi who had stopped crying for the time being. He opened a door, pulling down two black fluffy towels and placing them on the toilet beside the shower. He even went as far as to start the shower.
"I'll take care of Megumi. Take some time to relax." He left the room shutting the door before you could even register what happened.
The shower was heaven, somehow the water pressure in his room was so much better and you knew you would be sneaking in here when he was gone to use it. You felt refreshed and mildly human again, still lightheaded and ill but not so yucky.
You wrapped the fluffy black towel around yourself before realizing you didn't bring clean clothes in here. It wasn't like Toji had never seen you in a towel or naked for that matter but it still felt odd to just walk out only in a towel.
Cracking the door open a tiny bit only to see Toji sitting on the bed, legs spread as his elbows rested on his upper thighs, still sitting in his suit. He looked up at you through the door as it opened. "Feel better?"
You opened the door all the way and nodded. "Yes thank you."
Toji nodded back before handing you a pile of clothes. "Here, I grabbed some clothes for you." You nodded your thanks before slipping back into the bathroom to change. Heat rushed to your face, surely not because of the fever, when you looked at the clothes. The black shorts were yours but the large black t-shirt was definitely his, it smelled like him too. A little too happily you slipped it on. It covered your shorts but it was so comfortable and soft.
You opened the door once again, holding your towel in your hand as you tried to dry your hair. Toji stood, towering you as he held out his hand. "Give me the towel." Unnerved you handed it over, he threw it into a basket in the corner of the room before turning you around and leading you back towards the bathroom mirror.
Toji moved around you, pulling out a hair dryer and plugging it in. Turning it on, he pointed it at your hair, softly moving through the strands. This moment felt more intimate then any time you had sex with him. The image was also a little funny. A huge intimidating man in a suit drying his wife's hair. Well forced wife. That thought ruined the cuteness of the moment.
You could feel your eyes getting heavy as he worked. "Oh wait, where's megumi?" Your eyes snapped up to look at him in the mirror.
He chuckled low. "I gave him some medicine and put him to bed. I grabbed the baby monitor from your room. I'll worry about Megumi."
Toji wrapped up the hairdryer putting it away once he was finished. You followed him out of the room and stopped short as he pulled back the fluffly comforter on his bed as if he was about to go to sleep in his suit.
"Well I guess I'll go to bed now. Are you sure you don't want me to take care of Megumi?"
He turned to look at you, his hands resting in his pockets. "No. I want you to rest."
You nodded and turned around to leave the way you had entered his room.
"Where are you going?" Turning to look at him as he had taken steps towards you as if to stop you if you got too far from him. "To bed?"
A smirk crossed his face. "You're sleeping in here."
"What? I-"
"I wasn't asking." Your eyes widened at his words but you followed as he beckoned you over.
You got under the blankets where he had pulled them back, hating how much more comfortable it was. Toji pulled the blankets up and over you before moving to turn on the lamp beside you and turning off the big light in the room.
"I'm going to shower. Go to sleep. If Megumi wakes knock on the door and I'll go check on him. Understood?" His voice was stern but there was an underlying softness to his words.
You nodded, not being able to hide how heavy your eyes felt. "Take this first mama" He handed you a pill and some water, choking it down before resting your head on the pillow once again.
He slipped into the bathroom and you slipped into a slumber.
Your eyes weakly opened as light from the bathroom shined into the room, framing Toji's body, making the water on his skin glisten. He looked almost otherworldly from your perspective. You could barely see the smirk that played on his lips. "Go back to sleep doll, I didn't mean to wake you."
Mumbling something in coherently you closed your eyes, his soft chuckling floating through the quiet room.
It could have been ten minutes or an hour since he came out of the bathroom but you couldn't mistake the way the blankets moved and the bed dipped next to you as Toji got comfortable next to you. You were much to tired to object to the way he placed his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature, or the way your body shook from chills.
"You awake doll? You're shaking."
Somehow you forced out a, "cold" through your sleepiness.
But you didn't protest when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against his warm and bare skin. You also didn't have any control over the content hum that left your body at the feeling of him against you.
You had fallen back asleep before hearing the soft chuckle that left his lips or the wide smirk that crossed them. "What am I gonna do with you doll."
Tag list for those who requested a part 2: @acroso @chilichopsticks @freshscrumptiousgoateepeanut @kodzukenwhore @maskedpacific @jdasiilva @xdrcula @jdjsj377777
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minimickzy · 7 months
Text
Oh My God || Hazel Callahan
Listen- I believe in loser hazel and I find her to be perfect- I know this isn't my best fic but I've been in serious bottoms brain rot
dialog prompts:
"Hold my hand" "Absolutely not"
Characters: Hazel Callahan x Reader, the whole club
Word count: 2359
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Hazel Callahan was your mortal enemy. Did she know? Probably not. It was honestly beside the point. Because what mattered was that bitch seemed to have it out for you since the start of high school. First, it was taking your topic for a history project. Whatever- no big deal. Then all the “accidents” spilling coffee on your backpack (she had given you money for a new one but still), tripping you in the walkways, and hitting you in the face with a volleyball (multiple times). After that, she got the better parking spot for senior year, and finally, the great big plump cherry on top, she took the lunch table you had practically reserved since freshman year. 
At the end of the day, the whole ordeal may be a bit over-dramatic… but that table was perfect. In the corner, you could either hide or have a great undisturbed lunch with your friends. Hazel had sat there one day with Josie and PJ. which was weird in itself because they never had eaten in the cafeteria before and you didn't even remember them being friends. 
For how much you didn't care about Hazel Callahan- she sure took a lot of your attention.  
If anyone else had done any of those things- you probably wouldn’t have thought anything about it. But this was Hazel Callahan who despite your best efforts you could not stop crushing on. 
The stolen table was a very recent development. As in on Monday and it was now Wednesday. You sat at the next best table with Sylvie and Krystal, watching as Hazel feverishly wrote something in her notebook as PJ seemed to make a grandiose speech. 
She had no right to look that attractive while sitting in your spot. You groaned and face-planted into your crossed arms on the table. 
“Are you good dude?” You rolled your head to the side to look at Sylvie and then let out another frustrated groan. 
“Everything is awful and I hate it here.” 
Krystal patted your back while Silive sighed, “You know what you need?”
“Hmm?” 
“To hit something.” 
You laughed from inside your arm fortress, “Okay Sylvie- what should I hit? A fucking tree? Jeff? A Huntington player?” 
“No, you should join the fight club! It’s for women empowerment- I’m trying to train up to deal with my stepdad ya know?” 
You lifted your head and gave your friend a questioning look. “Fight club? For women empowerment?” 
Sylvie and Krystal both nodded excitedly. 
“When and Where?” 
----------------------------------------------
Of fucking course. 
When you walk in behind Krystal and Sylvie to the gym, the first person you see is Hazel.
Your body immediately fills with rage. At this point, it’s starting to feel like you're more angry at yourself for crushing on someone you barely even know. But you believe in self-love so you plan to continue projecting your anger onto someone else. 
Everyone was milling about and chatting, you left your bag on the bleachers by everyone else’s and followed your friends to the middle of the gym. 
Stella-Rebecca caught your eye and waved, which you gladly returned before PJ stomped as hard as possible on the floor to get everyone's attention. 
“What time is it?!” She screamed and was answered by a chorus of “3:15”s 
“That’s right you sluts! It’s time to get down and dirty!” 
You couldn't help the look of mild disgust that passed across your features. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. After al, Sylvie made some seriously questionable choices- you thought you could trust Krystal though. 
“Alright cunts- who wants to start us of-” PJ started by being cut off by Hazel who whispered something to her and then directed PJ’s attention onto you with a point of her pen. “Well look what the cat dragged in.” PJ gave you an unimpressed look which made you roll your eyes. 
“I can leave if this is a closed cl-” You started to point behind you to the door but Josie stopped you by waving her hands
“No- no you're more than welcome. PJ just gets a little into it- you know flashbacks to juvie and all that.” Josie gives a reassuring (and awkward) smile.
You pursed your lips and nodded, “Cool.” out of the corner of your eye you could see Hazel giving Josie a thumbs up. 
“Well, Since you’re fresh blood let's see what you got,” PJ says while smiling at you. 
“Okay,” you shrug. “I really don’t know what I’m doing though so don’t expect much.” 
PJ just brushes you off, “Don’t worry. It’s mostly just instinct.”
You nod and step into the center of the circle of girls. Okay, maybe this was a stupid fucking idea. 
“Let's see…” PJ looks around the circle, trying to decide who to pair you up with. “Hazel- why don’t you hop in.” 
Hazel looks nervous, but she still nods and enters the ring, giving you a small smile and nod. 
You look at her blankly, “Now what?” you ask.
“Now you hit each other.” PJ claps her hands together, “Fucking beat each other the fuck up!” 
“What-” You can’t finish your question because Hazel deals a hard hit right to your gut. “Fuck!” you double over in shock before gathering yourself again. “What the fuck.” 
Hazel looks a little confused but motions to herself, “Hit me now- that's how this works.” 
You give her the best “what the fuck” look you can convey before settling into a fighting stance. You thought there'd be a little lead-up or something.
You swung and got in a decent hit to the side of Hazel's face. It left a stinging sensation on your knuckles but you tried to shake it off. 
The two of you exchanged a few more punches and kicks back and forth before Hazel managed to catch you completely off guard and- 
BAM 
Your ass hit the ground hard. “Fuck!” you couldn't help the curse from leaving your lips. You let yourself unfurl onto the ground and stared at the ceiling. The girls around you clapped as you tried to catch your breath. 
“Good fight,” Hazel said, reaching one of her hands out towards you on the ground. 
You just looked at her, “Yeah. Good...” Suddenly your head hurt a lot more than it did a minute ago. “Fight.” This was definitely a stupid fucking decision. Maybe this is what killed you. RIP the girl who got her lights knocked out but the girl who was both the love and hate of her life. 
You tried to sit up but the world was kinda spinning. 
“Hazel, how hard did you hit her?” Josie asked as she joined Hazel looking down at you. Hazel looked like a lost puppy. 
“I didn’t think it was that hard- are you okay.” 
You laughed not handling the embarrassment of the situation well, “I am so good actually.” You went to stand up but stumbled before your legs gave out putting you back on the floor. 
Hazel tried to grab at your hand to help you up but you retracted your hand on instinct. “Hold my hand.” 
“Absolutely not.” 
Silvie barked out a laugh- “damn rejected!”
Hazel looked at you- her big blue eyes filling with hurt. Fuck. You didn't want to have to see those sad puppy dog eyes. You took hold of her hand and let her pull you up. If you thought the world was spinning when you were sitting, now it was like you were on a tilt-a-whirl. “Shit.” you couldn't keep yourself upright and leaned into Hazel so you didn't fall back to the ground. 
“Uh- I’m gonna take her to get some water.” Hazel sounded very concerned but you giggled. This was so embarrassing. Not only were you weak in front of your enemy- but also your crush. “Oh my god, I think I broke her!” 
PJ scoffed, “You just gave her like a concussion- she’ll be fine.” You nodded to agree with PJ. 
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god…” Hazel mumbled as she walked you out of the gym.
“I’m so so sorry.” She continued to apologize to all the girl's bathrooms where she propped you against a sink. “I didn’t think I was that strong.” She gathered some paper towels and got them wet, dabbing them to your forehead. 
In all honesty, you feel fine now. The dizziness was gone and replaced with a dull ache. But you were kinda enjoying Hazel being all over you. 
“It’s fine. Don't worry about it.” 
“If you want to hit me I get it- I deserve it.”
You laughed, “Yeah you can say that again.” You needed to practice biting your damn tongue. 
“I’m so sorry- I can’t believe I did that- I always do something stupid around you. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard- I just can’t like to focus with you around and I’m sorry-” Hazel continued to ramble and you started to zone out a little before saying the only thing running through your mind. 
“You stole my table”
Hazel stopped talking and looked at you. “No, I didn’t”
“Yes, you did.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never stolen anything let alone a table- I don’t even know where I would’ve put-”
“No Hazel, my seat. In the lunch room.” 
She just stared at you and blinked. 
“You stole my spot- where I have sat every day for the last and you spilled coffee on my backpack and hit me in the face with volleyballs and… and… and now you gave me a concussion with your fists.” 
Hazel groaned and moved away from you holding her face in her hands, “Oh my god you must think I hate you.”
“Well yeah!” 
Hazel just groaned again. “I just like you.” 
“Oh yeah sure- wait- what did you just say?”
“I just like you okay,” She kicks the floor and starts to pout, “You’re just like really cool and like always around and you make me nervous.” 
“Oh my god.” 
“I know- i’m sorry- I knew you hated me cause of all that stuff”
“Oh my god-”
Hazel made more inhuman nosies as you started to laugh.
“Hazel what the actual fuck- you like me? You like me? For how long?” 
Hazel stopped with the noises “I don’t know? Like freshman year? Why?” 
“Despite all of the mishaps, and how much they pissed me off- I could not stop crushing on you… since freshman year.” 
Hazels jaw literally dropped, “What, no way?” 
“Yes way. Why didnt you just like talk to me?” 
“Well everytime I did I would somehow manage you hurt you.” 
You shook your head and laughed lighty, “thats actually fair, I can’t blame you for that.” 
She cracked a bit of a smile, relief from the last few seconds flooding over the both of you. 
“This is crazy.” 
You laughed, “it is. And to think all it took was you punching me to the ground.” 
She groaned, “god I really am sorry-”
“It’s fine- definitely worth it.” 
She smiled, “now what?” 
You shrugged, “I don’t know- we’ve wasted almost four years it seems like so theres no point in wasting any more.” 
She gave you a dopey look and figeted with the rings on her fingers.
“Hazel come here.” She followed your instructions obditally and stood in front of you- close enough that you could feel the gentle wind of her breath. 
You placed your hands on her shoulders, not entirely sure the right way to go about this- and maybe this was moving a bit fast and the common sense had gotten knocked out of your head but at this point you were kicking yourself for not making a move over the entrieity of your highschool career. 
Her eyes were open, glued to your lips. 
“Gotta start making up for all that lost time.” you leaned forward, barley brushing your lips together, when you pulled back Hazel stood completely still with her eyes shut tight. You smiled to yourself. “Do you want to..” Hazel keep her eyes shut but nodded. 
You leaned again, this time trying to add in some movement. It was painfully obvious that neither of you really knew what you were doing. Hazel seemed to have a sudden surge in confidence after accidentally (maybe?) bitting your lower lip which drew some type of sound from you. She stepped forward, pushing you aagint the bathroom sink and putting the two of you in a much more intainte position. 
Despite the awkwardness and surprise, it felt nice- or good? Something like that. You stopped anazlying everything and instead focused on the fact that their was a very attractive girl running her hands down your back and letting your shirt cover her finger tips as she explored you. 
The second you started to thank whatever god was a above that it was after school hours so the building was essentially vacant- the door brust open, followed by two very loud “fuck”s. 
Hazel rushed back away from you, her face already blushing a bright pink. 
PJ and Josie stood in the doorway- matching faces of shock painting their features. 
“No fucking way Hazel is getting puss before us.” PJ rolled her eyes. 
“Uh- sorry we just uh- you know- wanted to make sure you were good.” Josie was doing a horrible job hiding her uncomforatbleness as she questioned you with a thumbs up. 
You bit your lip to stop from laughing and gave her a thumbs up back, “Doing great in here. Thanks- but if you wouldn’t mind leaving-”
“Oh yeah! Yeah! For sure- we’ll let you two lovebirds get back to it.” Josie did a half bow before turning and pushing PJ out the door. 
You laughed as hazel just looked mortified, “we’ll continue this later, I think we should get back to the club though- kinda wanna see you lay some bitchs out.” 
She took a deep breath and patted down her shirt, before looking in the mirror and fixing her hair. 
You gave her another thumbs up before the two of you left the bathroom to go back to the gym. 
----------------------------------------------
Send me requests please 🙈
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kpopfanfictrash · 9 months
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Elemental (Teaser)
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(NEW) Posting Date: September 28th, 11:00 AM (CST)
Genre:  Second Chance / Magic!AU / Modern Fantasy
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader
Length: One Shot 
Synopsis: Fear has never been a foreign concept to you. Your entire life has been shaped by knowing you’re different, and fear of the stigma which might follow discovery. Although fire, earth, air and water Elementals have been public for decades, the fear-mongering around your kind hasn’t changed. Something you have intimate knowledge of, having experienced it firsthand. Since then, you’ve done your best to hide your water powers. This is for your own safety, as your mom likes to say.
Safety flies out the window though, when you fall in love. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just any love, either, he’s the love. The one person making you feel as though your darkest corners deserve to be seen. Unable to control your magic around him, you find yourself faced with a horrible fact: you need to break up.
A plan which proves difficult when Jungkook simply refuses to go. And just maybe, you find the constraints you place on yourself don’t make sense anymore.
Author’s Note: Loosely inspired by the Seven MV. Songs to listen to: Dark Skies, A R I Z O N A; Fallingwater, Maggie Rogers; Cold Water, Justin Bieber; Hold Back the River, James Bay; Through Me (The Flood), Hozier
Estimated WC: 23K
Rating: 18+
Preview: 1,015
[ A/N: this is not the start of the story! There is a scene before this, but the teaser is starting here. ] 
“Tell me again.” Seokjin sits at the table, spooning yogurt and berries into his mouth. “Why did you have to end things with your boyfriend?”
Cracking open an eye, you glare from where you sit, slumped beside him. “You know why, Seokjin,” you grumble, lifting your head. “Not all of us can be air Elementals in perfect control of their magic.”
“You could be,” he counters, pointing his spoon. “If you put in like, five seconds of training and embraced your water powers instead of running away any time something bad happens.”
“I am not running.”
“No.” He lifts a brow. “You’re cowering, which is far less attractive.”
“I’m not cowering, either.” Scowling, you lower your head to rest on your arm. “I’m wallowing. Big difference.”
Scoffing, Seokjin’s spoon scrapes the bowl. Pushing back his chair, he heads towards the sink and turns on the faucet. The water itches a spot deep in your chest, almost taunting. 
“I can’t be too hard on you, though,” Seokjin says as he cleans. “You did get fired and dumped in one day – that’s pretty rough.”
“Does it count as being dumped if I did the dumping?”
“I’ll allow it.” He opens the dishwasher. “But only because really, you didn’t want to break up with Jungkook. You’ve just convinced yourself the world is better without you – something I highly disagree with, by the way, but can’t fault you for feeling. It’s too sad.”
“Thanks,” you mumble and close your eyes.
Two days have passed since your decision to end your relationship, and it hasn’t gone great, to put things lightly. On Monday, you barely left your room as rain poured from the sky. When you did manage to turn on the TV, the weatherperson on Channel 9 predicted local flooding.
Seokjin came home from his business trip that night, took one look at your face and helped to stop the storm. You sagged in relief, falling into a fitful round of sleep that only lasted three hours.
Seokjin is one of the few Elementals you know who embrace their power. Both his parents are air Elementals, and he recently took over their magical consulting business. It pays well, leading Seokjin to own a gorgeous three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. He got bored last winter, decided to post for a roommate and well, here you are. One of the few people in the city who don’t care if their roommate is an Elemental, so long as your rent is controlled.
Not that you’re in it for the discount. You truly don’t care, being an Elemental yourself. Seokjin’s laissez-faire attitude towards magic can be unnerving at times, though. You’ve lived your entire life under the assumption your existence is dangerous. All you need to do is Google for examples and here Seokjin is, living his life, seemingly none the worse for the wear.
He discovered your magic a month into being your roommate. Coming home early from a trip, he opened the door and stared, slack-jawed, while the dishes washed themselves in the sink. You looked up and swore, accidentally sending two dishes over the side.
Seokjin stared at the broken shards, then looked up. “You owe me new plates,” he called, heading into his room. After a minute, he poked his head out. “Hey – you think if we combined my wind and your water, we could create a waterspout but on land?”
“That’s… that’s a tornado, Seokjin.”
“Right.” He disappeared. “Well, something to think about!”
Months later, Seokjin still doesn’t understand why you don’t use your magic but respects the decision enough to leave it alone. At least, until things like this happen and he’s once more at a loss.
“Listen.” Seokjin turns, shutting the dishwasher with his hip.
“Oh, no.” You grip your coffee. “What now?”
He holds both hands in the air. “Nothing, nothing. Far be it from me to comment on your mistakes. I’m sorry – did I say mistakes? I meant learned life experience. Through mistakes.”
You grimace. “What there a question in all that rambling?”
“No question.” Seokjin gestures at the kitchen. “Just letting you know you can stay here, rent-free, until you figure things out. You know I’m only taking your money because you insisted. I really, really don’t need it. This place is already paid for.”
“Only because you frightened the seller so badly, they cut the price in half.”
“Hey.” Seokjin’s grin takes on a dark quality. “If they were willing to let their ingrained fear of Elementals influence their selling point, that’s on them. Not me.”
Fighting a smile, you lean back in your chair. “Fair enough. But seriously, thank you,” you add, smile fading. “This will give me time to come up with a plan.”
Nodding again, Seokjin leans on his counter. Tracing the rim of his coffee, he glances down the hall, towards his third bedroom. “You know…”
“No,” you respond, automatic.
Seokjin pouts. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“You were going to suggest I use this time to work on my art.”
He shrugs. “Okay, maybe you did know. But seriously, why not?”
“Because, Seokjin.” Wearily, you exhale. “Every time I try and paint, I just feel this… block. I can’t explain it. Watercolors used to be the one place I could freely express my magic but lately… everything feels wrong. Nothing works like it should.”
Seokjin looks thoughtful. “How long has this been happening?”
“I don’t know, a few months?”
He sips his coffee. “Around the time you started dating Jungkook.”
Blinking, you realize he’s right. That’s almost exactly when you began dating Jungkook. The block started soon after, right when you suppressed other parts of yourself. Those early days hurt too much to think about though, and so you block them out.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” you declare. “Right now, what I need is to find a job. And earn money. Preferably, in that order.”
Seokjin’s lips twitch. “Let me know if the order reverses. I know a guy.”
[ TO BE CONTINUED ]
© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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You're my emergency contact.
König x reader.
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Everything started with a simple favor and it all ended with your emergency contact accidentally attending your call.
(Give a ♥️ if you enjoyed it)
Warning: perhaps it is a very long and not good story, mentions of violence, as always grammatical and spelling errors.
You're König's neighbor, he's rarely at home so he asked you to keep an eye on his apartment, he gave you his number, just in case something happened.
- Danke, I Know I'm asking too much but I will give you my number, just... In case something happens, ja?
Your smile when he gives you his number In a piece of paper, he will never recover from that moment.
- For sure, it's not a problem, and thank you König I hope there's no need to use it for an emergency, I would prefer to use it in other circumstances.
-Ja, totally agree, well I have to go, thank you so much Schatz.
- Okay, have a nice trip König, see you!.
As soon as he left and you closed the door you started to jump with excitement, you finally had his number, you tried so hard for the last months to start a friendship with him and this is a big step for you.
But... What's next? You thought. After a few days you got an idea, you sent him a message.
«Hi König, I'm your neighbor, I forgot to give you my number, so here it is.»
An hour passed, two hours, four... Maybe it was a bad idea, then.
«Danke :D»
That's all? Well, at least he texted you back. You decided to not insist, maybe he was busy, another week passed, you really want to text him, why? Why do you want to be around him?
«captain's log: König's house is still safe, a package arrived at your door. :)»
You sent a selfie out of his door. A Risky move, you were getting nervous when you saw «seen» under the message.
«Hallo Schatz, danke for the notice, can you save the package at your house?, I'll pick it up when I arrive» «P.S. you look very pretty today ;)»
That was the beginning, for months you started to text each other. You send a lot of pictures about anything while he rarely sends you something, usually sunsets or just the sky. When he's at home you invite him to eat at your house or to drink a beer, you don't know yet but for König this is more than he expected, you and him are good together, jokes, loud laughs and a good conversation are always present when you're together, he's happy, he feels better with you, he feels affection for you.
- Well, this week I won't be at home for a few days, I hope you don't mind.
- What? Nein! Don't worry, I won't be at home either, I have some work, just a few days.
- ahh well maybe we will arrive home at the same time!
- ja! It would be a coincidence, a good one. Where will you go?
- Oh, my Mom's house, I'll visit her for a few days, my flight is this Wednesday, and I'll be back on Monday.
- Ah that's really nice, I hope you have a nice moment with her.
(...)
You're ready to take your flight, you were just waiting, when a group of armed men appeared.
- okay everybody, lay on the floor! We will not harm you if you obey!
Some people started to run, others screamed, the sound of shotguns...
The same man was shooting, while the rest of his companions were capturing people, you were on the floor, you took your phone and pressed the quick "emergency button" an old app your mother made you download just in case you needed, you knew it was useless because you and your mother lived far from each other, but after König gave you his number you added him on the emergency contacts list.
König was on his way to a mission when he Received a text. Your app sent a message with your location, an audio and a short video of what the camera phone could record, in those 15 seconds a man was yelling at you and others.
He opened it and saw that your location was the same as where he was going, he froze when he saw you were a hostage, the biggest fear, rage and desire to protect you grew inside him.
He and his team arrived, but they couldn't access the place easily, every door had a bomb, they didn't know if those were real or false but they couldn't take the risk, they started to plan and work.
You and the other hostages were on the floor, the group of men were kicking, yelling and hitting you, one of them was enjoying hurting you, taller than you and corpulent, you couldn't do much to protect yourself, he made you stand up pulling you by the hair, you yelped and asked him to stop.
- Sit this one in that chair, we're going to start the show.
You were sitting, you looked like a scared puppy, why you? What will they do to you? Why are they doing all this? What they want?. One of the men started to record everything, while another was talking and showing a photograph of a criminal.
- (...) Yeah, so we have hostages here, innocent people who are in serious danger, if you don't let this man free, we will start to torture and kill everybody in this place, we have bombs everywhere, don't be stupid and don't try to send cops or any kind of shitty government deal maker, those are our conditions.
Both men walked to you, while the guy who initially selected you to be tortured was ready to play his twisted game, he made you stand up from that chair.
- This pretty one is the first, we need an answer in 15 min or this one will be dead soon. Let's start...
You looked at all of them, scared, begging them to not do it, a knife cutting deep your thighs, a punch on your eye, your nose and mouth were bleeding, your ribs broken, you were crying, yelling because of the pain, one of them was ready to stab you when a big man dressed in black shoot at him, a clean headshot, you fell on the floor while all the men started to run, shoot and fight, you saw more people in black joining to the fight, you can't focus your view, you can't see clearly, you're fainting, you saw this big guy approaching, you can't see his face, he's wearing a black mask or something, he's talking to you but you can't hear him well.
- Schatz! Look at me, stay with us! Do you hear me?
Schatz? You remember that word, but... Where? Who? You're exhausted, your body aches, you're probably hallucinating.
«Hey! Prepare an ambulance!» you hear him yell at someone else then he carried you in his arms, this strange blurry guy in black saved you, you rested your head in his chest, you're feeling sleepy.
- Schatz, Mein Liebling, stay awake, I'm taking you to the ambulance, you will be fine, ja?
You didn't listen to him anymore, you closed your eyes, you just had flashbacks of the trip In the ambulance but that was all.
After two days you finally opened your eyes. There's a white lamp in the ceiling, the smell of medicine and sickness, a hospital? Were you alive?
You tried to sit but the pain in your ribs prevented you and a familiar voice filled the silence of the room.
- Hey, easy Schatz, you're fine, you're in the hospital.
There he was, König was in a chair close to you, he looked tired, and... Was he wearing black? What's going on?
- König? What... What's going on? What happened? Why are you here, what happened with your job?
He just let a small laugh out and handed you a glass of water.
- too many questions, drink some water first please, ja? You are in the hospital because you were hurt after the airport attack, I'm here because apparently I'm one of your emergency contacts... Schatz, Do you remember what happened in the airport?
You looked at him carefully, his voice, his clothes, and that word, «Schatz». Was he the one who saved you?
- I remember I was waiting to board the plane when those men appeared, then I... Well... You're my emergency contact, so I sent the emergency text, I remember those men hitting and hurting me and I remember the man who saved me, you probably will think I'm crazy but... That man looked pretty much like you... But he was covering his face with a mask or something.
He smiled nervously at you and hid his face with his hands.
- Was it you könig?
He looked at you once again and nodded in silence, the surprise in your face made him more nervous, he never told you about his job but you weren't expecting to find it out in this way.
- You never told me about your job...
You were playing with your hands and the glass, he was looking at his shoes, talking almost in a whisper.
- I can't talk about it... For your protection... And because it's better if you don't know how and who I am at work.
You don't want to make him feel as if you were angry or uncomfortable with it, you're just surprised, he looks too shy and kind to work in something like that.
- I understand... And I know it was really a coincidence and that you were just doing your job but... thanks for saving me.
He doesn't respond, he's still looking at his shoes. As if he was a little boy in trouble.
- König?
- Hmm?
- I won't ask you about your job, If you can't tell me about it, I'm fine with it... look at me Kö.
He finally looked at you, he looked sad or ashamed but you smiled at him and took his big hand on yours.
- Thank you for saving me. You're a good emergency contact.
You blinked your good eye at him, He smiled at you and kissed your hand.
- Just call and I'll be there Schatz.
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allysunny · 2 months
Note
heyyy hope ur well <3 i looooove ur writing so much it’s amazing! i had a request for bruce if that’s ok 24 & 2 + a book i was reading gave me an idea lol so could the reader be in an unhealthy abusive toxic relationship and falls for bruce who treats her soooo well and loves her soooo much unlike who she is currently with (she could have a reason why she can’t leave her partner maybe she’s so scared) and bruce is there for her always protecting her looking out for her worrying about her spoiling her he he genuinely is in love with her and you can add all ur magic to it and all ur awesome ideas. anyway if it’s not something u think fit ur writing or u don’t have enough time don’t worry it’s totally ok :))))) <3 <3 have a great day xx
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For the Better
“You light up even the darkest of days” + “Please don’t leave me” + Kiss on the lips x Bale!Bruce Wayne
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Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Words: 22.1k words
Warnings: Abusive & toxic relationship, domestic violence, gaslighting, lying, manipulation, I'm talking really, really unhealthy relationship, angst, bruises and some blood, fluff, angst with happy ending, kissing, I literally don't know how else to tag this, but please read the warnings because this is a very fucked up relationship.
A/N: Hey everyone! This is the last entry for my 200 Followers Event. I want to thank everyone who participated and all those who showed their support. That means the world to me.
Now, oh my god. This is my magnum opus, I believe. It took me a whole week to write this. This fic is the apple of my eye, my baby, my sin, my soul, I would die for this. I think it's my best work so far. I have worked my ass off for this, I really have, and I have no words to convey just how special and dear this fic is to me.
I would also like to apologise if there are any inconsistencies - I started writing it last Monday and finished it Saturday, so it's been nearly a week and I might've forgotten small details as the days went on. I tried to proofread it!
I really hope you guys will enjoy it and cherish it as much as I did. <3
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To Bruce, you were the most gorgeous woman in the entire world.
Your eyes could rival even the brightest star in the sky, the sun did not hold a candle to how radiant your smile was, and no flower could compare to your beautiful. You were simply gorgeous, inside, and out.
Unfortunately, you weren’t his.
Bruce had met you during a charity event. Some wealthy couple was raising funds for the Gotham Police Department (even though Bruce did not believe half of them deserved such charity), and he had of course been invited. The couple in question could not care less about philanthropy – they were merely trying to appear that way. That’s Gotham, for you.
You’d been waitressing during the event, carrying trays of hors-d'œuvre and champagne, smiling politely at guests and trying to do your job the best you could. You’d walked by him twice, and although you weren’t really paying attention to the guests (you were far more preoccupied with not tripping and making a scene), he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
He was so mesmerised, that he found himself searching for you whenever he wasn’t talking to anyone else. Sometimes when you returned to the kitchen, he saw you talking to your coworkers, smiling, and giggling about.
After a few hours of being bored to death by patrons with faux smiles and untrue compliments, he was ready to call it a night and return to the loneliness of his mansion – and that’s when you caught his attention.
Or rather, everyone’s attention.
You’d bumped into someone’s shoulder (it was actually someone’s shoulder who had bumped into you) and spilled the tray of appetisers on top of an old man who wasn’t pleased with the situation. The man, who he recognised as Charles Carnegie – a crooked businessman famous for his dabbles with illegal gambling and corruption – yelled at you, insulting you with every name in the book. The man was just about to raise his hand, no doubt to strike you across your face, when Bruce intervened, rushing between the two of you and gripping the man’s arm.  
Charles looked up in confusion and his turbulent eyes widened in recognition.
“Mr. Wayne!” he exclaimed, voice dripping with anger, “Let go of me this instant. Did you not see what happen? This foolish girl was not paying attention and spilled her tray all over me. I do not know how such incompetent staff can be hired. Someone ought to teach this insubordinate brat a lesson!”
Bruce’s hold on the man’s arm only tightened. How dare he speak to you like that? You were standing behind him, head hung low and muttering a string of apologies that were barely audible.
“Mr. Carnegie, if anyone here deserves to be taught a lesson, it is you.” He said, eyes narrowing. “Your inebriation and inability to watch where you’re going is not this woman’s fault. If you cannot behave at a public function, perhaps you shouldn’t think of attending. This server is not at fault, and you will apologize to her.”
The older man scoffed and tried stepping away from Bruce’s grip but failing.
“How dare you! Mr. Wayne, this – this – this harlot bumped into me! My suit is ruined, and she has insulted my dignity. Let go of me this instant, Mr. Wayne, or else – “
“Or else what?” Bruce asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, audible only to the man standing in front of him. “We are currently surrounded by the police our hosts were so kind to fundraise for. The entire Gotham Police Department is here, and while I know that most of them are corrupt scum like you, I am also familiar with the ones who would be more than overjoyed to throw you into jail for illegal gambling, embezzlement of funds and propositioning. I can ruin you with nothing short of three sentences, and you can bet that should you not apologize to the young woman standing behind me, I will.”
The colour drained from Charles’s face, and he stuttered, trying to come up with a decent response. It was no secret that the Carnegies were a powerful family. But the Waynes were almost royalty, and everyone in Gotham would rather swallow their whole fist than get into their bad graces. Especially Bruce Wayne’s. Surely, a man who showed up to every social function with not only a new car but a gorgeous new woman on his arm, wasn’t afraid to pull a few strings to get what he wanted – even if that meant ruining someone’s life.
“I – I – Mr. Wayne, how dare you – “
“Apologize to the young lady, or I will personally make sure all your belongings are gone by the time this godforsaken party is over. You’ll be sleeping on the floor before you can threaten me or anyone else again.”
Charles stuttered a few more times, before gulping and nodding. Bruce released his arm, and the man was quick to hold his wrist, twisting it a few times. Who would’ve known the Wayne orphan had such a death grip?
He looked up and Bruce moved out of his way to partially reveal you, yet still close enough to protect you should Charles decide to hurt you further.
“I – I am…” he stumbled over his words, shaking his head. “My apologies, Miss. My behaviour was… It was unacceptable. I am sorry for my lack of attention, and for bumping into you. I hope you can accept my most sincere apologies.” The words sounded scared – not necessarily genuine but scared – and they almost made Bruce smirk.
“It’s alright,” you muttered, eyes still fixated on the floor. “Don’t worry about it.”
Bruce wrinkled his nose at how meek you sounded and looked around himself. The situation had turned rather awkward – people were staring in his direction and murmuring to themselves. So, he did the only thing plausible.
“Ladies and gentlemen, why are we standing here, when the caviar has just been served?” he exclaimed loudly, plastering on his most charming Bruce Wayne smile, which had the guests immediately react, answering with soft chuckles of their own. “Our lovely police force should be honoured the right way – but that doesn’t mean they should get all the good food for themselves!”
The crowd that had formed around you three quickly dissipated, and so did Bruce’s smile when he finally got a good look at you. You were down on your knees, picking up your tray and trying to pick up some of the appetisers to clean up your mess a bit.
“Hey,” he chided softly to get your attention. “Hey, please, look at me.”
When you didn’t, he kneeled down next to you.
That’s when he saw you. Truly saw you.
Your face was puffy, eyes red and wet with tears that you’d tried your best to wipe away. You looked nervous and miserable, and all Bruce wanted to do was bring you close and make you feel better.
“Sir, I – he was right,” you mumbled, shaking your head, trying your best to clean up the floor with nothing but your bare hands and the napkin you carried on your arm. “I bumped into him. You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”
“I saw him,” Bruce replied softly. “He bumped into you. And even if he hadn’t, it did not mean he had the right to hit you. I was not going to let him do it.”
You nodded and sighed, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your arm.
“I caused you all that trouble. I’m really sorry. Shit, I feel terrible. I ruined that man’s suit and made such a mess… Nathan would mock me to hell and back if he saw me like this…” this caused the dam to break, and you wept loudly. Bruce did not really know what to do. What did one do whenever a woman was crying? He’d had a few one-night-stands in which the women cried once they realised he wanted nothing more to do with them, but they usually left by themselves, claiming he was a “heartless jerk”, and that was the rest of it.
He took the napkin from your hands and offered you a reassuring smile.
“If it makes you feel better that man deserved it. Charles Carnegie is a well-known corrupt and needed a reality check. If I could, I would’ve probably done that on purpose.”
This earned a soft chuckle from you, and you stood up, Bruce following right after.
“I’m going to call someone to take care of this.” You said, to which Bruce nodded.
“I’ll come with you.”
“There’s really no need for that, it’s okay – “
“Nonsense. That old jerk might try to follow you and threaten you again. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
You nodded, and quickly made your way towards the kitchen, where you asked for someone’s help. They were quick to reply, and within a few minutes, the whole place was spotless, and no one could tell anything had happened if they looked at the floor.
As soon as it was done, you turned to Bruce and offered him a small smile.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Wayne. What you did back there was very kind. I don’t even know how I could ever repay you.”
Bruce lifted a hand and shook his head.
“There’s no need to repay me. I’m just happy I could help.”
You nodded sheepishly, and extended your hand, telling him your name.
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
Bruce shook it and his hold may have lingered on yours for a tad longer than what would have been acceptable, before tasting your name on his lips.
“It’s a lovely name. I’m Bruce. Wayne.”
“Yes – I gathered. Everyone knows you,” you chuckled.
“Sometimes I wish they didn’t.” He confided.
“I’m not sure that’s for the best. Being invisible has its downsides, I’m afraid.”
You gave him his number, and the two began to talk rather quickly, even going as far as deciding to gather for ice-cream about two weeks after your initial meeting. He texted you, saying he knew of a fantastic ice-cream parlour next to his company’s building, and invited you. You’d agreed almost instantly, replying with a bunch of emojis – and that’s how you found yourself next to Bruce Wayne, eating ice-cream. You’d gotten a lemon flavoured scoop, while Bruce went for mint.
“I was surprised you wanted to meet up!” You said, beaming up at him once you had paid for your sweet treat. Or rather, after Bruce had paid for it. He insisted, telling you he couldn’t possibly let a lady pay. You made him promise he’d let you pay next time, to which he replied, “We’ll see”.
“Really?” He replied. “Why is that?”
“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne. Don’t you have like, I don’t know, a bazillion cars to drive, and a bunch of models to date, and lots of money to spend? Why’d you invite me to ice-cream?”
“I’m spending my money on ice-cream,” he gave you a cheeky smirk.
“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckled and ate a spoonful of the treat in your hand.
“To be honest, my day was going terribly. I needed some fresh air, and you seemed like good company.” He was being as honest as he could. His day at Wayne Enterprises was going terribly, with a bunch of investors trying to go behind his back and steal some of his money. It had been a hassle, but thankfully all had been taken care of. He needed something to distract him from the stress.
“Oh, tell me about it,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “The restaurant today was hellish. It was as if Satan had spawned a hundred different little devil women to make my day worse.” You told him about all the “Karens” that had bothered you, insisting you’d gotten their order wrong, when they were simply too drunk to function (even though it was around midday), complaining about how weird their food tasted, or even going as far as telling you they did not like the decoration. It made your blood boil, but a girl needed to pay her bills, so you sucked it up.
Bruce chuckled at your descriptions of the acts you’d like to perform to those women – none of them very family friendly – and found it rather cute when you decided to deal with your frustrations by scooping a large spoonful of your lemon flavoured ice-cream. You moaned in delight once the soft food melted on your tongue and smiled.
“Nathan would just freak out if he tried these,” you said, “He’s a sucker for good ice-cream.”
Bruce’s brow quirked quizzically. Nathan? The name sounded oddly familiar coming from your lips, but he couldn’t quite tell why. You seemed to notice his expression because you were quick to continue.
“My boyfriend. I’ve mentioned him before, remember? I think I mentioned at the party too.” You hummed and ate another spoonful of ice-cream, groaning once again. “This is good. Really good. Wow.”
“Ah. Yes, your boyfriend.” Bruce nodded.  He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. Sure, he’d only known you for two weeks, and you had told him about Nathan early on (he simply decided to ignore that) but he’d be lying if he said the thought of more than just a friendship hadn’t crossed his mind. It was only natural, and he considered himself to be an efficient man, who went for what he wanted – well, almost. Batman had made that a tad impossible, but Bruce was still figuring it out.
“Mhm!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Nathan and I have been dating for a few years. We’re actually close to four!” You quickly told him how you and Nathan had met, something you surprisingly had not done before. You’d been accompanying a friend of yours to the ER after someone had spilled a pan of burning hot oil on top of her. The Emergency Room Doctor, Nathan Smith, had taken care of her very quickly, but it was on you he had his eyes during the entire appointment. After the both of you had thanked him, and your friend had a bandaged arm, he’d stopped you in your tracks and politely asked if you would give him your number. You couldn’t lie to yourself – he was handsome, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, and a kind smile, and you swore he could’ve been a model if he wanted to. So, you had said yes.
“And the rest was history,” you finished. “We’ve been together ever since.”
Bruce hummed and busied himself with taking another spoonful of mint ice cream to his lips. “I see,” he hummed. “Well, I hope everything goes well with your relationship. He sounds nice.”
“He really is. I love him.” There were stars in your eyes, and while part of Bruce scowled, unhappy with this man he had never met before, another wanted to smile, because you did seem like a lovely girl, and he did want to see you happy.
After that day, you and Bruce became close friends.
He got to know you. You worked a job at a two Michelin star restaurant, waiting tables. That’s how you’d heard of the charity gala gig – word spread around that a rich couple was looking to hire some servers, and you’d applied in the hopes of making a few extra bucks.
He learned that you were a very resilient person, not at all like the way you’d appeared that day at the gala. You’d told him you were simply having a terrible day, with a few costumers yelling in your face during your regular shift. Charles Carnegie doing the same thing at night was the straw that broke the camel’s back and seemed to break you.
He got to know all your hobbies, and the things you liked to do for fun. Learned all your favourite books, the movies you liked to watch when you were down, the snacks you liked to munch on whenever your day went sour. He learned what made you tick, and the things that inspired you. You told him about your family – the relatives you loved, those you were close with, and the ones that simply did not deserve to be in your life anymore.
Every time you disclosed some piece of information about your life, Bruce drank it all up. He wanted to know you, all of you. He listened whenever you complained to him about work, whenever you texted him with any sort of happy news, or when you called him late at night because you felt lonely. It had been so long since Bruce had someone to call his friend, and he loved every bit of it. He knew he wasn’t the first person you came to whenever you wanted to talk. Part of him wished he was your first choice, but he saw the look in your eyes whenever you mentioned Nathan.
And speaking of, he even got to meet said Nathan.
A few weeks after your second meeting, the one where you’d gone out for ice-cream, Bruce decided to surprise you by having a meal at the restaurant you worked at. He asked for a table, and specifically asked for you as his server. The owner was clearly surprised; not only did he not expect Bruce Wayne of all people to have dinner at his restaurant, but he also wasn't expecting him to ask for a specific server. Especially one that seemed as insignificant as you. Bruce assured him it was vital that he had you as his server, and the man quickly relented, happy to tend to the billionaire’s every need.
“Hi, welcome to La Lune d'Argent. My name is – “ Before you could continue, you looked up and a grin spread across your face. “Bruce! What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner. What does it look like?” He replied with a smile.
“You could've told me you were coming! I’d have gotten you the best table.”
“This one is just fine, I promise. And letting you know in advance would sort of ruin the purpose of a surprise, don't you think?”
“You wanted to surprise me?” Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you shook your head, trying to get rid of it. Not only did you have a boyfriend, but you were also at your workplace and needed to remain professional. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”
Bruce smiled once again, before opening the menu in front of him and eyeing it.
“What do you recommend?” He asked.
“Well, the Seared Scallops with Truffle Risotto are our specialty. The Lobster Thermidor is also really good, and so are the Stuffed Shrimp with Crabmeat. But if you’re not in the mood for fish, then I recommend the Chateaubriand and the Filet Mignon. The Tournedos Rossini is a costumer favourite, but I’ve tried it and don’t think it’s all that.”
Bruce nodded, before going over the wine section.
“And the wine?”
“It depends. If you pick any of the fish dishes, then you should go with the Chardonnay or the Prosecco. If you go for the meat, then you should most likely enjoy a glass of Cabernet or Merlot. There’s plenty more, but I’m I wouldn’t be of any help with those. I’m terrible when it comes to wine.” You recited, the words spilling naturally from your lips – you’d done this a thousand times.
“That’s okay. Well then, how about I have the Foie Gras Terrine and the Truffle Risotto Croquettes as appetisers, and for the main dish, I’d like the Chateaubriand if possible. I’d also like a side of salad. As for the wine, I trust the owner’s good judgment. Cabernet it is.” He waited until you were done writing everything down and handed you the menu.
“Anything else?” You asked, taking it, and tucking it under your arm.
“Is your company too much to ask for?” He offered you a smile.
“Some of us have to actually work, Mr. Wayne,” you joked and stuck your tongue out playfully, “I’ll have your appetisers here in a minute.”
Dinner went well. The food was stellar (there was after all a reason the restaurant had two Michelin stars), the wine lived up to the expectations, and your company – or rather, the small moments you managed to spare him – warmed his heart. You offered him small quips about your work, told him about the usual costumers that sat on their usual tables and had their usual meals, gossiped about those you didn't like. It felt nice, to have a good time at work. You didn't completely hate your job, no, and some days were definitely fun thanks to your coworkers or any sort of shenanigans that happened during your shifts, but it could get boring and lonely and upsetting. Bruce being there was a nice change, and a welcome one.
“When does your shift end?” He asked, after he’d eaten a nice slice of cheesecake for dessert.
“In about half an hour, I believe. I have an early night today.”
“I’ll wait for you then.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to, Bruce – “
“Nonsense. Do you have a ride home?”
“I’ll just take the train.”
“I'll give you a ride then.”
“Bruce, that’s seriously not necessary – “
You were interrupted by the voice of your boss, calling out your name in an accusatory tone. “Do I pay you to sit around and talk to costumers?”
You sighed and nodded towards Bruce.
“Thank you. A ride home would be nice.”
He waited until you were done, paid for his meal and left you a nice tip, and then waited outside. You took a few minutes, but soon enough you were walking towards him, wrapped around in a comfortable looking jacket.
“You ready to go?” you asked before a voice called out.
“Babe?”
You turned around, and your eyes widened before softening at the sight before them. “Nate!” You smiled, making your way to him, and hugging him tightly. Nate hugged you back just as tight, but his eyes did not leave the tall man that had been by your side.
“Who is this?” He asked, discontent clear in his voice.
“Oh!” You turned to face Bruce, arm linked with Nathan’s. “This is Bruce! I told you about him, remember? He’s my friend.”
“You did tell me about your friend. You did not mention your friend was the Bruce Wayne.”
“Well, that’s because he’s not the Bruce Wayne to me. He’s just Bruce.” You smiled, and Nathan didn't seem too pleased once Bruce extended his hand.
“Bruce Wayne.” He spoke. Nathan shook his hand, steel-like eyes taking the taller man in, his expensive clothes and pulled-together appearance.
“Nathan Smith. So, you’re my girl’s friend, is that right?” He asked, pulling you closer by the waist. It wasn't hard to miss the jealous look in his face, and Bruce decided to ease the guy’s mind a bit, not wanting to get into any trouble. And not wanting to get you into any trouble.
“Yes, that’s right. I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Yeah? That’s funny because she’s barely said a word about you.” Nathan replied, offering Bruce a tight-lipped smile, and turning to you. “I came here to surprise you. Heard you were getting an early night, wanted to give you a lift home. Maybe we can make up for lost time? I miss you.” It did not take an idiot to see what the hell he was getting at, and it made your duck your head slightly, clearly embarrassed.
“That’s very kind of you, thank you. I loved the surprise.” You faced Bruce once again and offered him an apologetic smile. “Nate will take me home, if that’s fine by you.”
“Fine by him? What's this got to do with him?” Your boyfriend asked, chuckling dryly, and giving you a not so amused look.
“Bruce had offered to take me home. It was kind of him, so I said yes.”
“Yes, yes, very kind.” Nathan turned to Bruce too. “As you can see, your help is no longer needed. I’ll be taking my girlfriend home now.” He said the words with a sneer, happy to claim you as his.
“Yes, well. Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Oh, I do.”
You looked awkwardly in between both men and cleared your throat moving away from your boyfriend to envelop Bruce in a hug.
“Thank you for the surprise. It was really nice. And thanks for the offer too. The ride back home one. I’ll see you some other day?”
“Absolutely,” He replied and turned to leave.
As he walked away, he could hear Nathan’s voice and how accusatory it sounded.
“Surprise? What was that all about? Why was that guy visiting you at work?”
“He’s a friend, Nate. He just wanted to stop by.”
“Oh yeah? And what business does he have just stopping by? He’s not your boyfriend. I am.”
“He’s just a friend, Nate. I promise. Let's just go home, please? I miss you.”
Bruce was inside his car before he could properly make out whatever Nathan had replied to you, but he could tell it was nothing good.
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The next time Bruce saw you, you were sitting by yourself at a coffee shop, having an iced drink and reading a book. He thought about approaching you but decided against it. You looked peaceful, and he didn't want to upset you should you not want to see him after the whole ordeal with your boyfriend went down.
But he was pleasantly surprised when he heard your voice call his name, and your hand beckoning him to come closer.
“Hey! I had no idea you came to this place. Wanna sit next to me?” You asked, moving your bag out of the chair in front of you, making space for him,
“Sometimes, on my lunch break. I take it today is your day off?”
“Mhm! Got today all to myself. I was supposed to spend it with Nathan, but we kind of fought so I decided to get some fresh air myself. You know, just to clear my head.” You said the words “kind of fought” as if they meant nothing, as if fighting with your boyfriend was a daily occurrence. He didn't like that.
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruce sat down in front of you, placing his own coffee on the table.
“Nah, not really. That’s just who Nate is. He gets upset sometimes, and I have to put some space in between us. No big deal. What about you? What are you up to?”
“Well, like I mentioned, this was supposed to be my lunch break, but I took the afternoon off. Alfred – my butler – is supposed to come pick me up later. It’s the anniversary of my parents’ marriage. I want to visit their graves.”
Your eyes softened and you placed a hand on top of his. Your palm felt warm on top of his, and Bruce immediately turned his hand so he could slot his fingers in between yours.
“I’m sorry.” Was all you said. After all, what more could you? Everyone knew Bruce Wayne’s story, but you did not want to seem presumptuous and assume you knew all about him. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
“Me too,” Bruce replied quietly, his voice thick with emotion, the way it usually was whenever he mentioned his parents. He didn't speak about them to many people, but let his facade slip completely for those he did trust enough.
“Is it okay if I come with?” You asked, and immediately regretted it. Why would you ask such a thing? Why would he even allow you to attend such a private thing with him? It was dumb, really. Before you could take your words back though, he replied, eyebrow quirked.
“Really?”
You shrugged sheepishly.
“Sure. It sounds tough, and I don’t want you to suffer all by yourself. You tend to do that.”
It was true. Bruce often hid his feelings, his emotions, shielding them from everyone. It hadn’t been that long since you two had started talking – maybe one or two months – but you could already tell he was very selective with the people he trusted. And how could he not be? You wanted to be someone he could trust, though. Wanted to be someone he could rely on, help him shoulder all his burdens.
Bruce thought it over for a bit. It would be nice to have some company. Visiting his parents’ grave was a very personal and intimate thing, yes, but he considered you a friend, and he’d be lying if he said he didn't want your company. He was sure both his father and his mother would've liked you, would've enjoyed your sense of humour and appreciated his kindness. So why not?
“I would appreciate that,” he said, and you smiled. “Won't it be a problem with Nathan?”
“Don't worry about him. He’s not the boss of me, and I'm not doing anything wrong.”
That’s how you found yourself, standing in front of the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne, the beautiful Wayne Manor just ahead.
“I’m sure they loved each other very much,” you said, eyes not leaving the carved stones in front of you.
“They did.” Bruce agreed with a nod. “My father would bring my mother flowers nearly every day. She used to joke about having her own private flower shop thanks to him. He never stopped though. He’d bring her different flowers according to her mood. That’s just how he was. Always looking out for her. He could tell whenever she was sad, or happy, or worried.”
“What an amazing husband,” you smiled, picturing the late Thomas Wayne reading his wife and choosing flowers accordingly.
“And my mother was just as amazing as him. She could tell when he had had a bad day at the hospital. I never could – she used to tell me she could sense it in the first few steps he took whenever he arrived home. Whenever he felt down, she’d help Alfred make his favourite meal. He didn't have to ask, she simply did it out of the goodness of her heart, and all her love for him.”
“It must've been incredible to be surrounded by such love. You were very lucky, Bruce. And I'm sure your parents loved you just as much as they loved each other, if not even more.”
You smiled up at him and he offered you a small smile in return. You were right. He had been lucky to have experienced such love and affection at a young age. It made him realise the kind of relationship he wanted to be with and taught him the kind of partner he should be.
He was just about to speak when your phone started chiming.
“Sorry – forgot to mute it,” you mumbled, turning the sound off. It didn't do anything to quiet it down though, since it just kept vibrating in your pocket. You huffed and turned it on, brows furrowing in confusion, and then relaxing.
“It’s Nate,” you said, not looking up from the screen, “He’s apologising for our fight. Says he was in a very bad emotional state. Poor thing… He’s very self-conscious, you know. Keeps telling me he’s too lucky to have me, that I could have anyone in the world, but I settled for him. He always thinks he’s not good enough for me, that I'll leave him for someone else” You chuckled dryly, before continuing, “He couldn't be farther from the truth, though. I’m the lucky one.” You looked up and Bruce and pointed to the phone in your hand. “I should probably go. Nate wants to apologise in person, and I should probably talk to him.”
Bruce nodded and pointed to the limo standing near the street.
“Alfred will take you home.”
“Thanks.” You smiled up and him and moved forward to hug him. Bruce softened immediately. You slotted perfectly against him, and he felt like a piece of a puzzle that had just found its matching half. Unfortunately, you pulled away, taking all the warmth with you.
“I’ll see you some other time,” you said, walking away.
Once you were out of his view, he turned to his parents.
Perhaps someday he’d be able to love you like they loved each other.
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Bruce was working when he received a text from you. It had been a few days since you’d visited his parents’ grave with him, and you hadn't spoken face-to-face since. You’d been texting non-stop though, telling each other about your day, sending pictures of your respective meals, or just sharing funny anecdotes or pictures you saw online that reminded you of each other. Bruce clicked on the notification with your name.
Look at this!
[1 file attached]
Clicking on the picture, he could see your radiant face, partially hidden by a huge bouquet of roses. They did nothing to steal the shine from you though, and Bruce cringed at how they paled in comparison to your beauty. He was quick to shoot back a reply,
They look pretty. Secret admirer?
You were even quicker to reply.
They’re from Nate, as an apology! Isn't he the sweetest? He’s been spoiling me rotten. I don't think I deserve it.
Bruce’s stomach twisted at the mention of your boyfriend. His fingers flew across the screen as he typed.
You deserve that, and much more.
You replied with a smiley face, and that was the end of your conversation for the day.
It was hard to get back to work after that, his thoughts plagued with you. Your nice smile, your kind words, the way you fit perfectly against the shape of his body and how tightly you’d hugged him back on the Manor grounds. He knew it was wrong to want you - you were dating someone else, and it’s not like you knew each other for a long time, but he couldn't help it.
Bruce took a deep breath, and gulped down an entire glass of water, before chastising himself and focusing on whatever task he had left to complete.
It didn't work, and Lucius found him staring at the screen of his phone for a good five minutes, before deciding his boss probably deserved a break from his somewhat incessant teasing.
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After that, you met up with Bruce a few more times.
You’d meet up sometimes for lunch or a late afternoon snack, and you’d even had breakfast together once. You chalk it up to friendly outings, and so does Bruce (although he’s sadder than you to admit that). Unfortunately, these meetings were not filled with chatter about your lives, motivations, and dreams for the future. Instead, you worried your pretty little head off thinking about Nathan, who didn’t text you for hours, seemingly pushing away from you, only to give you mixed signals the next day and apologising for his behaviour. Bruce could see how draining it was, could see how you always glanced at your phone whenever the two of you were together, and how you seemed to walk on eggshells whenever Nathan called you.
Things would get harder for the two of you at night – Bruce was out patrolling the city as Batman, something he had not and would never tell you – and you sometimes you got lonely. Bruce simply told you he was busy, and you in good faith, believed him. After all, he was a busy man, running a busy company, leading a busy life. You were lucky enough he managed to spend some time with you during the week.
Bruce had become your closest friend. You loved hanging out with him. It was like he got you. He was a great listener, always providing you with great insight whenever you asked for it, or simply being a shoulder to cry on if you wanted to. He would give you solid advice, support you on (nearly) every decision and all of your hobbies, encouraging you to seek out new experiences and the things you’ve always wanted to do but were never brave enough to.
One day, the two of you were meeting up for coffee. You had your legs tucked under yourself, grabbing a warm mug with both of your hands. You loved this café; loved the ambient, the fluffy pillows and couches, the vast choice of drinks. It was your own special little corner, and you were happy to bring Bruce along.
You two were in a middle of a conversation about your favourite books, before your phone buzzed. You decided to ignore it, but it just buzzed again. And again. And again. A bunch of texts messages started coming through, and as you picked up your phone, it started ringing.
“It’s Nate,” you mumbled, accepting the call, and mouthing a small “sorry” to Bruce, who nodded.
“Hey honey,” you said. Bruce could make out your boyfriend’s voice from the other side of the line, and he could tell he wasn’t pleased.
“Where the hell are you!?” he heard Nathan say, and you involuntarily flinched in your seat, frowning.
“I’m at a café. I told you this, didn’t I?” you asked.
“Yeah, well, Ricky just texted me saying he saw you sitting with some other guy. What the fuck is going on?”
“Another guy?” you mumbled, “Nate, I’m with Bruce. We’re out for coffee, that’s all.”
Bruce heard Nathan scoff, and his fists curled on his lap. He was just glad you couldn’t see it.
“Ah, of course. Fucking Bruce. It’s always him, isn’t it?”
This seemed to get you riled up.
“I asked you if you wanted to come with me, and you told me no. You said you had better things to do and hated this place,” you shook your head, brows furrowing in anger. “So, I invited a friend. I’m allowed to have other friends, you know.”
“Yeah, sure. And it had to be a guy? You had to invite a guy out for coffee? Just the two of you?”
You curled into yourself and away from Bruce, lowering your voice.
“Nate, if you cancel on me, I’m going to invite other people. It’s just Bruce.”
“That guy’s trying to get into your fucking pants, and you know it, and you keep encouraging him. How does that make me feel, huh? Knowing you’re out there with some other douche who wants to jump your bones?” Bruce wanted nothing more than to seek out the asshole you were dating and beating him to a pulp. How he even dared to speak to you like that was beyond him, but he decided to say nothing. At least not yet.
“Nate, I don’t like it when you talk to me like this. He’s just a friend, I told you, you have no reason to be jealous – “
“Yeah sure. Don’t bother coming home.”
And he hung up.
Bruce eyed you, the way your pretty eyes welled up with tears and how you quickly wiped them away, throwing your phone and belongings to the purse sitting next to you.
“I – I’m sorry, Bruce, I – I need to go. I have to sort this out with him.” You mumbled, standing up. Bruce, however, was quicker, and stood in front of you, blocking your path.
He furrowed his brows and spoke in a low voice as not to startle you.
“He shouldn’t talk to you like this.”
“He’s right. I know he is – I know he’s got low-self-esteem issues, he’s just worried is all. He’s afraid to lose me, I know he is.” You said these words like a mantra, and Bruce wondered just how long you’d been repeating them to yourself. It made his heart ache. He reached out to wipe your tears, but you took a step back, shaking your head.
“I’m sorry for cutting our meeting short, Bruce,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you later.”
And you were out of his sight.
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“Hang out?” Bruce asked, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he shaved.
“Yeah!” he could hear your excited voice on the other side, and it made him smile. “It’ll be just me and Nate and some more friends. I know how you are with strangers, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I thought it’d be nice if you were out of your house for once. You spend all those nights working, you’ve gotta learn to have fun!”
It was partially true. He did spend all these nights working. Just not a very conventional job. In fact, he’d been spending the last few weeks looking into Nathan Smith. His past, his present, and making assumptions on his future. He had all eyes on this douche.
“Bruce? Are you there?” you called, “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re not a fan of other people – “
“I’ll be there.” He said curtly, blade gliding against his smooth skin. “Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”
“Really?” you let out a squeal of excitement and Bruce nearly cut himself with the sound. He realised then just how much he wanted you to be like that all the time. Happy. Excited.
“Really.”
“Okay – okay! I’ll let you know where and when! I can’t wait to see you again! I have to go now though, my shift’s about to start. See you soon, yes?” You hung up and Bruce chuckled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see you either. He wasn’t, although, very eager to see Nathan. But for your sake, he’d be on his best behaviour.
You met a few days after the phone call, at a local bar.
It was bustling with people and energy. Loud music was being played on speakers, the whole place smelled of cheap beer, and the people’s noise was deafening. Still, he overlooked all of that just for the sheer pleasure of hanging out with you.
“Bruce!” You called out, getting up from your spot near the counter and hurrying to meet him halfway. You hugged him tightly and he once again felt like you were meant to be in his arms forever. When you pulled away, he smiled. “You made it!” You were wearing an off-the-shoulder top and a pair of shorts decorated with small lace at the bottom. But Bruce couldn’t care less about what you were wearing – you always looked radiant.
“Of course I did.”
“Here, come meet my friends!”
You dragged him to a small group of people and introduced him to everyone. He was expecting more and was glad to find it was only you plus 4 others. Nathan was still on his way, you told him.
All of you kept light conversation for a while. Bruce did not really try to keep up with your friends’ conversations. One of them kept rubbing herself all up against him, giggling and obviously trying to get herself into his good graces. She was clearly only interested in his money, and Bruce had to excuse himself a few times just to get away.
After a few minutes, your head turned and you smiled, standing up to greet someone.
Nate.
“Hey honey!” You smiled, lifting your head to kiss him on the lips. Nathan quickly scanned the table, and once his eyes fell on Bruce, he scowled, one hand coming down to grip your waist, and the other to give you a light squeeze on your ass cheek (which made Bruce cringe and want to punch this jerk to next Sunday).
“Hello. Didn’t know we’d be having so much company,” the doctor sneered, eyes lingering on the Wayne billionaire.
“Well, if you don’t like me meeting up with friends on my own, I thought we could all meet up. Isn’t it a nice solution?” you smiled, but Nate didn’t seem to care about it. How dare he, Bruce thought. If you were his, he would never overlook your smile. Never. But she’s not yours, a tiny voice whispered inside his head.
Nate then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. His eyes lingered on your exposed collarbone and shoulders, and on the shorts that adorned your pretty legs. He sneered.
“And what the fuck is this?” he asked with a scoff.
“Hm?”
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
“Oh! These are new!” you spun in your place, showing off your outfit. “Do you like them? I thought the lace details were super cute – “
“So you’re wearing this out?” Nate crossed his arms, visibly upset. “Seriously? Don’t you think it’s a bit too revealing?”
It wasn’t, really. The top, even if it was off-the-shoulder, did not expose your cleavage too shockingly. The shorts weren’t too short either, covering just the right amount of skin. And even if the clothes were too short (which they weren’t), Bruce thought Nathan should just mind his fucking business.
“You think so?” your smile was quickly replaced by a pout, and you looked down at your clothes self-consciously.
“Yes, I fucking think so. I don’t understand why you feel the need to dress like that, show that much skin. People might get the wrong idea.”
“What wrong idea? Nate, they’re just clothes. There’s nothing wrong with them.”
The atmosphere had become tense. Your friends were all giving each other knowing looks but kept to themselves. Bruce didn’t have the heart to simply stand there and watch though. He put an arm in between you and Nathan and spoke calmly.
“Look, I think she should be allowed to wear whatever she wants. It’s not like she’s naked – “
“Stay the hell out of this, rich guy. I couldn’t care less what you think, this is not your relationship, and she is my girlfriend.”
Bruce looked at you, but you seemed to be avoiding his gaze, eyes fixated on Nathan.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think they were that revealing when I tried them on. I just liked how they looked on me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m fucking embarrassed to be seen with you when you dress like that. Dressed like a common whore.”
That was enough for Bruce. He stepped forward, ready to send his fist flying across this jerk’s face, but your smaller hand wrapped itself around his arm.
“Bruce, please,” you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay. He’s right. I am showing too much skin. I should dress more modestly.”
“He’s being a jerk,” Bruce muttered, eyes urging you to let him go. “I’m not letting him speak to you like that.”
“Please.” You sounded so meek, so small. It tugged at Bruce’s heartstrings, and he immediately lowered his arm. He’d do anything for you, really.
“Fine.”
“Yeah, that’s better.” Nathan scoffed, before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you close. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Without sparing him a second glance, you were out of the bar.
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“I’m telling you, Alfred, that guy is the worst. I don’t understand how she’s still with him, he treats her like shit,” Bruce muttered to himself as he paced back and forth in his bedroom.
“Master Wayne, although I admire your compassion, I cannot help but wonder if you are sticking your nose in someone else’s business.” Alfred replied. He’d been watching Bruce walk holes into the floor, and although he wanted to help, the older man knew there was really nothing he could do.
“I know. I know I am but – she deserves better. She does, she deserves someone who’ll treat her right, who won’t talk to her that way, who will respect her and adore her – “
“Someone like you, I presume.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Bruce sighed and sat on his bed, defeated.
“Master Wayne, have you considered telling this girl the feelings you’re harbouring for her?” Alfred asked, moving closer to the bed.
“I can’t. She loves him Alfred, she… she loves him.” He muttered again.
The butler gave Bruce a sympathetic smile, before walking away.
You loved Nathan. You didn’t love him.
So why did it all feel so terribly wrong?
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You walked inside Wayne Manor for the first time a few weeks later.
It was raining – pouring, even – and you’d desperately knocked on its big doors. Alfred opened them for you, and recognised you instantly, having stolen glances at Bruce’s phone whenever he looked at pictures of you.
“Hi – Hi, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” you quickly introduced yourself, tears running down your face. “Is – is Bruce here?”
Alfred gently guided you to the living room, where he told you to wait. You stood there awkwardly, picking at your fingers, and looking around, taking in the beauty of Bruce’s family home.
When Alfred returned, he brought with him a few towels, and Bruce Wayne himself. The latter was just about to leave for patrol, but upon hearing from Alfred that you were standing on his doorway, drenched from head to toe and crying, he decided to ditch his nightly duties.
“Hey,” he said, hurrying towards you. It was all it took – you collapsed in his arms, tears running down your face. Bruce held you tightly and you cried, burrowing your face in his chest. Alfred simply placed the towels on top of one of the couches, and took his leave, silently going upstairs to get a robe for you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Once you managed to stop crying, you looked up at him and sniffled, shaking your head.
“I’m so sorry – you’re all wet because of me now,” you told him.
Bruce shook his head and moved to hand you a towel.
“It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
You sighed and used the towel to dry your hair, wrapping the other one around your shoulders.
“It… it was Nathan.”
Bruce looked at you, eyes narrowing.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing! I mean – we just fought, that’s all. But it was a really nasty fight.” You said and burst into tears again. “He – he kept saying all I did was walk around and cheat on him! He said I didn’t truly love him, that I was selfish and only thought of myself. It – it’s not true! I love him Bruce, I really do!” You buried your face on your hands, and Bruce moved to sit by your side.
Bruce held you tightly in his arms, hand stroking your back and your head. You melted in his hold, breath evening out and tears eventually subsiding.
"I just... I don't know what to do, Bruce..." You mumbled against his chest. "I really do love him, but he said all of those mean things..."
Bruce's lips pressed into a thin line as he navigated the best way to go about this conversation.
"Nathan..." He mumbled, hands running through your hair. "Does he speak to you like this a lot?"
You sniffled, stilling in his arms.
"We fight... Lately we've been fighting a lot, but... I know he loves me... He doesn't mean it. He's been under so much stress, things at the hospital are getting chaotic and I've been stressing him out..."
Bruce shook his head, his hold unconsciously tightening around you. So he took his stress out on you? Jerk.
"That's not okay. He can't speak to you like this, he doesn't have the right to." Bruce pulled away to look you in the eyes and you sniffled as his big hands wiped your tears.
"He doesn't mean any harm, you know... He's under a lot of pressure from his superiors..."
He sighed once again, and then watched from the corner of his eyes as Alfred carried in his hand a tray of warm drinks and a fluffy robe.
"Look," he said, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "How about you change into something more comfortable, and we'll talk about it over a drink?"
You smiled and nodded, getting up and thanking Alfred, grabbing the robe so you could go change.
Once you came back, you told Bruce you did not want to talk about such sad topics any further, and simply wanted to distract yourself. Bruce was happy to oblige.
You settled in the couch side by side with a blanket covering your laps. He let you pick a movie, and you sat side by side, poking fun at whatever it was that was playing on the TV, sipping on warm beverages, and talking.
“So you’re telling me you don’t know how to make a cup of tea?” You asked, leaning back to look at Bruce with a serious expression.
“Look, I was a failure and I decided it was better not to learn instead of having Alfred annoy me about it. He’s very serious about his tea. You should hear him yell at me.”
You chuckled and involuntarily placed your legs over Bruce’s lap under the blankets. He was quick to lay his hands on top of them, drawing patterns absentmindedly.
“You’re impossible,” you chuckled.
“Oh, so you’re all high and mighty and capable of cooking anything and everything?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Even if I wasn't very good, I'm sure I'd be able to cook more than you. I had to, you know. Living on my own and all,” you shrugged, “Some people don’t have butlers doing everything for them.”
Bruce hummed. You were right. It was one of the things he admired the most about you. How unafraid you were to tell him exactly what you think, and how resilient you were, how strong-willed and stubborn. Bruce was sure he’d never met a woman as strong as you in his entire life.
“Alright, pay up.” You extended your hand.
Now you were sitting a few inches apart, a Monopoly board on the couch in front of you.
“You’re cheating,” he huffed, counting his bills.
“No, you’re simply not very good. Aren't you like, supposed to be a god at this or something? This is your whole life.” You popped a popcorn inside your mouth and smiled.
“Usually, lives aren't dictated by the throw of a dice,” he said, handing you two bills. “You're ruining me here. I’m gonna go bankrupt.”
“Then learn how to play better.” You shrugged and rolled your dice again, moving your piece accordingly. Bruce smiled. He could get used to this, spending time with you, cuddled up in his couch. That's where you were meant to be, next to him, in his arms, in his blankets. You were meant to be in his home, brightening up the place with something as small as a smile, in his life, brightening his whole existence with just a tilt of your head. It was at this moment that Bruce realised that his feelings for you ran way deeper than just a simple friendship. After all, friends didn't wish to spend eternity together. Friends didn't want to lick the popcorn salt off each other’s lips, friends didn't want to hold each other close and whisper sweet nothings in their ear.
As the night went on, so did the activities. When you were done with board games, you switched to card games (getting your ass kicked by Bruce, who was far too good at Poker for your own liking). You changed movies about three times, simply not satisfied with the choices you’d picked earlier – not that Bruce minded. You’d made a game out of changing movies every time the characters gave you second hand embarrassment and had plenty of fun yelling at the protagonists who slipped and stuttered and acted like bozos.
“Oh, come on,” you cringed, body twitching involuntarily. “Why is she singing Fight Song on top of a table? Do directors think this is how people behave?”
“You stood on top of my couch and yelled. I think that’s close to what’s happening on the TV,” The man next to you eyed you with amusement as you scoffed and pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“That’s different, I won Monopoly,” you said nonchalantly, “Everyone knows you’re entitled to do whatever you want once you win Monopoly.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it in his direction, but you should've known better, because Bruce simply picked it mid-air and raised it in front of his head, to hit you back. However, at the sudden movement, your eyes widened, and you quickly flinched away from him, panic spreading all over your face.
Bruce let go of the pillow, heart breaking at the sight before him. What the fuck had just happened? Did you flinch away from him?
“I – “ You seemed to notice his worry and were quick to shake your head, laughing weakly. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?” He asked, torn between reaching out and staying in place. He didn't want to scare you even more than he already had.
“Yes! Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I wasn't expecting you to do that. Was just trying to get away from the pillow.”
“You scrambled away from me.”
“Well, yes, you were going to hit me with a pillow, weren't you, Bruce?”
“I would never hurt you. You know that,” he whispered, and you looked away, still trying to pretend everything was fine.
“Well, I didn't want a pillow on my face. Alright? It’s nothing, I promise.”
He wasn't convinced in the least, and Bruce knew what it usually meant. His mind went back to Nathan, to the way he had treated you at the bar, to his behaviour towards you whenever you and Bruce were out for ice-cream or coffee. The gears were turning in his head, and you took notice of that, moving forward and holding his hands.
“Hey,” you smiled, although it didn't reach your eyes, “It’s fine. I promise. Everything is okay.”
He didn't believe it. Didn't buy it. But he had to earn your trust if he wanted to do something about it, and scaring you away wasn't an option.
He attempted to smile back, and nodded, muttering a small “Alright.”
You settled back next to him, and he could feel the way your body had tensed up as soon as your arms had brushed together. He needed to calm you down. So, he spoke.
About his life, about his childhood. He told you about all the times his father would let him tag along whenever he went to work at the hospital, how fascinated he was with his occupation. Saving lives. How great was that. He told you how much his father’s work had inspired him. He explained to you the intricate games he’d play in his gardens, pretending to be a detective who was investigating every sort of crimes. He wanted to save lives, just like his father did.
“You do, you know,” you mumbled, looking up from under his chin to get a good look at his beautiful face. “Even if you’re not a doctor, you still save lives. You make people’s lives better. All your philanthropy and charity are helping Gotham. You’re not doing this in vain.”
He smiled. If only you knew how much his charity and philanthropy extended.
You replied with stories of your own. The things you liked to do while growing up, the games you’d make up in your room, thinking of faraway lands with castles and elves and fantasies. You’d be a police officer one day, and a pirate the next. You told him about your childhood home, your high school, your college major. You showed him pictures of your roommates and the fun activities you did together.
It was an exchange. You’d tell him about yourself, and he would open up to you in return. The TV was still on, and both of you were looking at it, but none was paying attention. Your conversation was much more important.
Bruce told you about his childhood, how lonely he would feel sometimes. He told you sometimes he would isolate himself, the grief of having lost his parents far too much to bear. It made your heart ache and you found yourself leaning closer, wishing to take all of his pain away.
"You don't have to suffer all on your own now, though," you said, looking up to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "I'm here now. You can count on me to help you with whatever. You can trust me, Bruce." Your hand was suddenly on his cheek, palm hot and caring, and Bruce instantly leaned into it, sure that this was where he was meant to be – in your arms, staring into your eyes, baring his soul open. The air crackled in between you – it was as if the world had shifted and finally landed in place. It felt right. Everything felt right, and your eyes briefly drifted towards his lips.
He was just about to say something when a few loud knocks could be heard on the door. Your head whipped around in panic, the sound clearly startling you (something Bruce kept in mind).
"Alfred, could you please get that?" He asked, arm wrapping itself around you in an unconsciously protective move. You relaxed in his hold just as quickly as you’d stiffened, and his heart leaped. Did you feel safe with him?
The door slid open, revealing behind it a massive bouquet of red roses. The roses moved and Bruce quickly spotted the figure who was holding them.
"Nate?" You whispered, untangling yourself from Bruce's hold and taking tentative steps towards the door. Shit.
"Babe – hey," Nathan replied, sighing with relief once he spotted you. "I'm so sorry, I – I'm such an idiot. I'm the worst."
You eyed him sceptically, something like doubt shining in your eyes.
"I shouldn't have said any of those things. The hospital has been so busy, my bosses have been giving me shit every day, and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry, will you please forgive me?"
You hugged your arms, shielding yourself. You looked back at Bruce, who was watching the situation, lips a thin line and eyes cloudy.
"I didn't like the way you spoke to me... You really hurt, Nate, did you mean all of those things?"
"No! No – fuck no, I didn't. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. Please, let me make it up to you. I don't deserve you, but if you forgive me, I'll spend the rest of my days trying to prove to you I am worthy of your love. I'm so sorry. I'll be better. I promise. Babe, you make me better."
Bruce wasn't fazed by this speech. He didn't buy a single word of what Nathan had just told you, and once again, he would not keep it to himself. This man was manipulating you, preying on your emotions and your love for him, probably even going as far as laying his hands on you, and you deserved better.
"Perhaps you should've thought of those things before you treated her like shit." He said coldly, standing up and walking towards you. You turned away from him, which had Bruce's heart clench. Why were you turning from him?
But he didn't need to give it much more thought – you were already falling for Nathan's narrative.
"You ��� " Nathan's grip tightened. Bruce saw the way it tightened and saw your eyes land on his fist as well. This caused him to loosen it, and give a small, dry chuckle. "Bruce. Thank you so much for taking care of her. Truly. I'm so thankful you took care of my girl when she wasn't feeling well."
You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes, babe, really. He's your friend, and I'm willing to get along with your friends. I'd do anything for you, you know it. Don't you?" He stuck out his hands, presenting to you the bouquet of roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. It was only now that Bruce (and apparently, you as well) realised that both items, as well as the person who was carrying them, were dripping wet.
"You came all the way out here in the rain to apologise?" You asked, stepping out towards the man standing outside the door.
"Yes. Of course. I would do this and more for you, baby. You know that, don't you? I'll do anything for you. You drive me nuts, that's it. That's all! It's only because I love you so much that I act like this. Please give me another chance. I won't waste it. I know you deserve better than me, you could literally get any guy out there, but fuck... Please, just let me prove to you that you make me a better man." He looked desperate, panicked, blue eyes widening with fear.
It was useless. You were completely entranced by the manipulative bullshit this guy was spewing.
“Do you promise not to yell at me again?” You asked, taking another step towards him, fingers softly touching the rose petals.
“Yes. I do. I’ll never do it again – I promise babe. I’ll be better. I am better whenever I am with you. I know I overreacted, but it’s only because I love you. You make me crazy – I am crazy, for you.”
You looked up at him, something unsure in your eyes. You glanced back at Bruce, who furrowed his eyebrows and softly shook his head “no”. It wasn't a command or an order, simply some advice. This jerk didn't deserve you. You turned back to look at Nathan and took the roses he was holding from him.
“These are really pretty,” you mumbled, inhaling their scent.
“Not as pretty as you. So, what do you say? Will you forgive me? Please? Just give me another chance.”
You seemed to ponder it, quietly analysing the roses before you. Then, a bigger smile spread across your face, and you nodded, moving towards Nathan to wrap your arms around his neck. He sighed in relief and hugged you back, burrowing his face in your hair. When his gaze caught Bruce’s, his eyes hardened. If looks could kill, Bruce would be dead and gone. Perhaps it’s a good thing he wasn't scared of this jerk.
You let go of your boyfriend and turned to Bruce, holding the bouquet tightly in your hands.
“Thank you for your kindness, Bruce.”
“Are you sure about this – “
“But this is my relationship. We’re friends, aren’t we? I need you to trust me here, okay? It’s fine. Nathan’s apologised. Everything is okay now,” you smiled, and Bruce swore he could see something breaking behind your eyes.
“He doesn’t deserve you, he yelled and – “
“Look, I said I was sorry, alright, rich boy?” Nate interrupted, spitting the words. “Mind your own business. This is my relationship, alright? I appreciate that you were here for my girl, but your help is no longer needed.”
Then, he turned, taking you away with him.
The last thing Bruce saw before Nathan’s car was out of you, was you leaning over the console to press a sweet kiss on his cheek.
He didn't like this one bit. And he was not going to rest until he was sure you were away from this guy.
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He didn't see you for a while after that.
At least not directly.
During his patrols, he would stop by your apartment and watch for any signs of either you or him. But either you were extremely shy, or Nathan was very careful about not letting anyone peek into their lives, and usually closed the blinds. Bruce was sure it was the latter. He could no longer peek inside – Lucius had destroyed the system that had allowed him to spy on every citizen in Gotham, after all – and was stuck texting you and trying to pry information from you.
The only thing you told him was that everything was fine. Nathan was a gentleman, taking you out for dinner and showering you in gifts, telling you he loved you. According to you, things couldn't be better.
Your texting patterns would be sporadic. Some days, he’d spend all day chatting with you, sending pictures and things that had reminded him of you, making plans to meet up and grab a bite. Others, you’d ignore him all day, giving him one-worded replies once or twice.
“Alfred, I just don’t know what to do,” he confessed once. “I’m pretty sure the bastard might be hitting her or something. The way she acts, the way he acts? Yelling at her, fighting, and then showering her with gifts and affection? It doesn't sit right with me.”
“Have you thought about reporting it to the police, sir?”
“I don’t have enough evidence,” he grumbled. “She flinched once, and they fight. That doesn't necessarily mean he’s abusive towards her. Besides, what if anyone investigates it, does not notice anything wrong, and he gets angrier? What if he takes it out on her?” Bruce placed his hands on his face and laid his arms on his knees. It was a tricky situation. If he wasn't abusive but was still a scumbag, he doubted you’d ever leave him. If he did hurt you in any physical way, he might be risking your own safety in case he reported anything.
Suddenly, his phone chimed, and he was pulled from his thoughts as your ringtone played. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?”
You were breathing heavily but did not say anything. Bruce was starting to worry.
“Hello? Is everything okay?”
“Yes – yes, it is,” you quickly said, and your voice held a foreign emotion to it, something Bruce couldn't quite place. “I’m sorry, I know it’s short notice, but do you want to grab something to eat? I was supposed to meet a friend, but she cancelled on me.”
Bruce looked up towards Alfred, who nodded in acknowledgement.
“Yes, sure. Of course, I'll meet you. Did you have any place in mind?”
“There’s this sandwich place near Gotham Mall, perhaps we could go there? I’ve been meaning to try it out for a while, but… Well, it’s just never been a right time. I’ll text you the address if you want to.” Something was up with your voice. You didn't usually sound so unconfident, at least not with him.
“I’d appreciate that. I’ll meet you there in 20. That okay?”
“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you, Bruce.” There was a small tilt to your voice that Bruce paired up with a smile, and then you hung up.
20? He’d be there in 10.
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Bruce was already sitting down by a window, wearing a casual dark blue polo when you walked in. It was impossible to miss him – you found him the most handsome man in the world, with his beautifully carved jawline and his kind eyes.
What were you even saying? You have a boyfriend. Control yourself. If he knew you were even having these thoughts…
Instinctively, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you.
Once Bruce spotted you, he stood up to meet you halfway. You hugged him briefly, tensing under his touch, which he simply chalked up to awkwardness after that night. Had you felt the same he had? Was that why you were acting so strange?
“Thank you for meeting me,” you sighed, sitting down. “My friend cancelled last minute; I didn’t know who else to call. I hope you don’t feel like a last resort or anything – you were actually the first person I thought about.”
Bruce nodded. A waitress came over and asked you both if you would like to see the menu. You looked over at the options and a small smile was pulled from your lips. Once Bruce had picked a Caprese sandwich, you asked for a Pesto Chicken one, and a lemonade. The waitress smiled at you both (well, she smiled at Bruce), grabbed your menus (making it a show of bending over to show off her cleavage) and walked away.
Bruce, however, didn’t seem to notice, seeing as his eyes were on you.
“Is everything okay?”
You looked away, before meeting his gaze. And you smiled. It was gentle, and soft, and fake. Bruce knew, because he plastered on the same smile whenever he had to attend galas full of people whose only interest were his last name and his bank account.
“Yeah! I’m just tired, I think. Haven’t been sleeping well.”
Bruce’s gaze landed on your figure. You were leaning on your right arm, staring absentmindedly at the counter. You were wearing a pretty denim jacket, and a simple purple shirt underneath, as well as a pair of jeans. It wasn’t a very flashy outfit, and yet he thought you looked gorgeous.
“Aren’t you going to take that off?” he asked, nodding towards the jacket you were wearing.
“Hm?” You turned to him and blinked repeatedly. “Oh – no. No need, I’m kind of chilly. How have you been?”
Rather good at deflecting attention, you were. He decided to play along for the time being.
“I’ve been good. Work has been hectic, but what else could you expect when you’re running a company,” he sighed. “I’ve been worried about you, though. You’ve been ignoring me for a few days – are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Work has been hectic as well. The restaurant is going through a few renovations, and we know have more tables to wait. It’s been a hard adjustment, but I’m doing my best.”
“I’m sure you are,” he smiled.
After that, conversation flowed easily, as it usually did between you two. Your sandwiches arrived and you tried each other’s comparing tastes and flavours, trying to prove to each other that your choice was superior. You told him about your new patrons at your job, an old couple who left you extremely big tips and called you “darling” every time you walked by. In return, he told you about this big investor who was interested in a fundraising project to combat poverty in Gotham.
It was as nice as always, and when the bill came, he reached for it without batting an eye.
“Hey – Mr, let me. You can’t just pay for everything.” You chided, reaching out to grab the bill from his hands.
“No, that’s out of the question,” he replied, as casually as asking about the weather. “You don’t have to pay for anything when you’re with me.”
“Bruce,” you whined half-jokingly, still trying to fetch the piece of paper from him. He lifted it over his head, and you huffed, leaning back once again. “You can’t pay for everything every time we’re out.”
“Why not?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I’m allowed to spoil you. Aren’t I?”
The word spoil had you turn your head, heat creeping up to your cheeks.
“I don’t deserve to be spoiled.”
“Sure you do. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s you.”
You looked into his eyes for a few moments, unable to form any words. Every time you were with him, you felt your heart warm. You felt like everything was right. It was easy to talk with Bruce. To Bruce. You felt like you could tell him just about anything.
Not anything.
“How about we go for a walk?” Bruce asked. You nodded and moved to get up.
But as you did so, the left sleeve of your jacket got stuck on your table. You pulled away, causing your whole arm to be exposed to him, a large bruise running along it. Your eyes widened and you panicked, forcefully pulling your jacket from the chair, and wrapping it around yourself again.
You heard Bruce call out your name, but you were far too focused on picking up your things and running out of the establishment, Bruce right behind you.
“Hey! Hey! Come black, please! Don’t go!” He wanted to scream, to yell, to reach out to you and hold you tight, but he knew doing any of those things could scare you off. He could lose you forever, and he was not going to let his anger at Nathan cloud his judgement.
You didn’t want to run, though. You crossed the street and stopped right in front of a park bench, tears streaming down your face. Once Bruce caught up with you, he maintained his distance, but remained close enough should you want to come closer. He called your name. Softly. As if it was some sort of prayer, a mantra. It felt nice coming from his lips. He sounded kind. Unlike…
“Who did that to you?” he asked, exasperation in his voice. There was no point dancing around the subject.
“No one. I tripped, and I fell, and I – “
“Please, don’t give me that crap.” His words were harsh, but his voice was soft, and everything was so confusing, all you could do was sit down on the bench in front of you and cry.
“I fell, Bruce. I’m so clumsy, I fell during one of my shifts at the restaurant and that’s all, I promise you.”
Bruce sat down next to you. A few inches, but still, next to you. His mind was running hot with anger. That bastard had done it, he’d actually touched you and hurt you, and Bruce was going to do everything in his power to make sure he never saw the light of the sun again. You raised your head and looked at Bruce. You thought he’d be looking at you with disgust, but there was none in his gaze. Only kindness, only softness.
“It was an accident…” you mumbled, and he had to move closer in order to make out the words you were saying. “It was my fault. I provoked him…”
There it was.
Not his fault. You’d provoked him.
Bruce did his best to school his features. He needed to be calm, he needed to look collected and cool. If he acted out and showed just how angry he was, he might scare you off, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want you to associate him to Nathan, to the monster who’d hurt you.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.
“It, it was my fault…” you sobbed. “He came home from work, and he was so tired… He’d had a really rough day, and all he wanted was to come home to a nice warm dinner, but, but… I was so tired, Bruce, I was so tired, so I didn’t cook – not even for myself! And when he came home, he started shouting and telling me I wasn’t good for anything, that he couldn’t even count on me to make him dinner.” You hid your face in your hands and sobbed louder. “So – so I told him to cook his own dinner, and I know I shouldn’t, because he was so tired! And – and he got mad, and… He... he...”
“Can I come any closer?” you furrowed your brows. Why was Bruce asking that? Why was he being so sweet with you? Especially after you’d just told him you were a terrible girlfriend, being as selfish as to not cook for your boyfriend after a tiring day. But the only thing in his eyes was gentleness. And he was being so sweet with you. Did you even deserve such a treatment?
You nodded your head yes, and he slowly moved closer, hand picking up yours.
“You need to report him to the police.”
Your eyes widened, and you began to shake your head while he spoke.
“He hurt you. This is domestic violence, it’s abuse. You need to report him – “
“No. No, no, no – “
“He can’t keep hurting you like this. All the yelling, all the fights, he’s taking advantage of you, and you don’t deserve any of that. Honey, he’s hurting you – “~
“No, no, no, no, no, no – “
“He’s abusing you.”
“He’s not – he loves me, it was an accident – “
“It wasn’t an accident; he’s hurt you before – “
“He hasn’t!” you exclaimed, shaking your head, “He has not hurt me!”
“Not physically, maybe, but he treats you like shit, which also counts as abuse. Listen to me, please,” he moved closer and slowly lifted his hands to cup your face. He did it slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust, react, move away from him, do anything to show your discomfort. You did not, so he held your face in a way that showed just how afraid he was that you would break.
“You deserve better. This scumbag is hurting you. Let me help you.”
You looked into his eyes, and the whole thing felt foreign to you. Being held so gently, being talked to so calmly, being regarded as something close to precious, to dear. Wasn’t this how relationships were supposed to go? Wasn’t Nathan supposed to be just like this?
“I love him…” you whispered, attempting to look away. Bruce did not let you. He kept his gaze focused on you. “I can’t leave him Bruce, I… He was so sorry… You should’ve seen him; he was so broken… He regretted it so much.”
"He looked broken because he's trying to fool you." Bruce let go of your face and held your hands in his, hoping to convey everything he meant just by this touch. "I can't stand and watch as he hurts you like this. Please let me do something. Let me help. I'll get him fired. I'll get him arrested. This can't go on; he can't keep hurting you – "
"I love him!" You sobbed, shaking your head. "I do, and he loves me, and he did not mean it! It was an accident! You can't do anything; you can't take him from me! Please, if you care about me in any way, don't do anything. We'll sort it out. I promise you it won't happen again, honest."
Bruce was torn. Torn between storming out of there and beating that asshole boyfriend of yours into a pulp and staying there comforting you. He wanted to do both so badly. He couldn't just stand aside and do nothing, but he also did not want to lose you forever. He could still do it, of course. Hurt Nathan, the same way he'd hurt you. But then he was most definitely sure he'd lose you forever. And would that be worth it? It would. He'd lose you, but you'd be safe. And wasn't that what mattered the most in the end?
"Please, Bruce... Trust me..." You whispered, looking deep into his eyes, trying to find some sort of sign in there that would show you he was still on your side, by your side. Your friends were against you, so was your family. Nathan was right. They were all terrible, they hated you and did not want you to be happy.
With all those people gone, you needed to know you still had Bruce. That despite everyone leaving, he was still yours.
He's not yours though, a little voice said inside your head. You tried to drown it. Who Bruce belongs to is none of your business. And it’s not like he even belongs to someone, he is his own person. Not some property to be handed around carelessly.
You’d never handle him carelessly though. You’d love him. And he’d love you, the way you’re meant to be loved. No. This was wrong. You were not supposed to have these thoughts. You had Nathan. And you loved him.
Did you, though? What had Nathan done for you as of late? Hit you and berate you and fight you and yell at you. Was that even how relationships went?
Sure. That's how passionate relationships went. And you knew Nathan was passionate about you. That’s why he got angry so often, because your love drove him nuts. Loving you drove him nuts. He adored you so much, you made him lose rationality. And wasn't that romantic?
Bruises aren't romantic. Taking care of someone is romantic. Holding them while they cry. Cheering them up with ice-cream and Monopoly, and surprising them at work. What a wonderful boyfriend Bruce would be.
No. Stop it. Those thoughts are wrong.
You looked at Bruce, standing in front of you, regarding you with so much care and worry. How you wished you could just melt in his arms forever. Sometimes you liked to relive how nice it felt to rest in his hold. How natural. You wished you could hug him again and never let go.
It was frightening, really, the way your feelings for Bruce were growing. He’d been just a friend at first, someone you could trust, someone you could spend time with and have fun. But now, he was so much more than that, and you feared the lines between friendship, and something more had begun to blur.
“I’d treat you so much better,” he suddenly blurted, drawing circles on your hand with his thumbs. “You deserve better than him. Please let me do better. Let me show you how you deserve to be loved.”
Tears found their ways to your eyes, and you shook your head, slowly.
You couldn't. No, you couldn't, possibly.
“I’m sorry…” you started, trying to choke back a sob.
“Please. You deserve to be treated with respect. With kindness, with love. Nathan isn't doing any of these things, he’s disrespecting you by laying his hands on you and hurting you all the time.” His face was mere inches away from yours now. Why was he so close? You could smell his cologne, see every speck of light in his eyes, listen to the breath he let out as his lips parted.
It wouldn't hurt to get closer. His lips must taste nice.
It would be wrong. So wrong.
You like him, don't you? And he treats you nice and likes you so much.
You love Nathan. You’d been with him for years now and loved him. He was good for you. He loved you, he provided for you. He paid most of the rent every month and 1bought most of the groceries. Your salary as a waitress could not compare to his, the one of a prestigious doctor. You couldn't leave him. It would ruin you.
Bruce has way more money than him. He would help you get back on your feet.
Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, getting away from him. This was wrong. Extremely wrong. You were dating Nathan. And that was the end of it.
“I'm sorry, Bruce,” you said, sounding more confident than you felt. “I'm in love with Nathan. Please trust me on this. I know what I'm doing.”
“I can’t just stand by and watch as he hurts you.” Bruce's voice held something to it you couldn't quite place. It felt like sorrow, like grief. You hated it. It made your stomach churn.
“He won’t hurt me anymore! He loves me!”
“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you're trying to?”
The question took you by surprise.
“I…” you stuttered, shaking your hand. “I… I believe it.”
Did you?
“If you care about me Bruce, please let me be. My relationship is none of your concern.”
“What? Please – “
“Please mind your business, Bruce.” You mumbled, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and sighing. “Thank you for the sandwich. I’ll see you around.”
You spun on your heel and walked away, leaving behind a very broken-hearted Bruce Wayne.
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You were constantly on Bruce’s mind. You plagued his thoughts 24/7 – your face, your eyes, your smile, your laugh. Again and again, from the moment he woke up, to the second he closed his eyes and fell asleep. You haunted his dreams too. Cried, lovely face covered in black and purple bruises, blood dripping down your mouth. These nightmares usually ended with a blood-curdling scream from you, and Bruce waking up in cold sweats.
It wasn't pleasant. Not at all.
And the worst part was, he had no idea what to do.
“If I report him, he might hurt her even further.”
“Yes, but that was when you had no evidence. You’ve told me she told you he hit her, things are different now, she confessed he was acting abusive towards her.” Alfred said, preparing a cup of tea. Bruce had foregone coffee for a while. Ever since you made it so difficult for him to sleep, Alfred had been trying different methods of getting his boss to sleep.
“Maybe I should have a little run-in with him. Or rather, the Batman should.” Bruce muttered, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“And what good would that make, Master Wayne?”
“I’d tell him to stay away from her. Shake him up a bit. Beat him up. Teach him a lesson.”
“I thought this wasn't about revenge,” the old butler settled a cup of tea in front of Bruce and sat next to him with a sigh. “Master Wayne, may I speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“Gotham has just begun to see Batman as a symbol of hope. You don't want to scare its people by beating up a doctor. Granted, he’s a despicable man who dares hit his partner, but a doctor, nonetheless. It would be foolish to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to build so far.”
“Then what am I supposed to do, Alfred? How am I supposed to save her if I'm not Batman?”
“That is curious, because I don’t remember hearing the Miss say she liked spending time with the Batman. She did not cling to his arms and cried and told him her darkest secrets. She did not invite him for lunches and afternoon snacks and walks because she liked his company.” He mused. “She did all of that with Bruce Wayne. Perhaps you don't need a mask this time, Master Wayne. Perhaps, this time, being you is enough.”
Bruce thought the words over in his head. Alfred was right – something that happened abnormally often. You had never needed him as Batman. Just Bruce was enough.
“There’s also the fact that your family has left you a rather comfortable fortune, and more prestige that you could ever ask for. I’m sure Bruce Wayne would suffice.”
Bruce chuckled humourlessly, sipping from his cup of tea.
“She won’t open up to me, though. I mean, she will. She told me he was hurting her, that he’d pushed her. But she refused to let me help and said that I couldn't tell a soul. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?”
Alfred hummed.
“Perhaps you should invite her over again. Tell her you would like to talk. Or, you know, go to the police like a regular person and end the nightmare she is undoubtedly living.”
“I’ve done some research, Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Dr. Nathan Smith is well liked in his community. Volunteers, donates to charity, the whole ordeal. If she tells the police, it was an accident and she fell, they’re likely to believe her. We need something more concrete.”
Alfred hummed once more. He could see where Bruce was coming from. On one hand, it was endearing. He’d never cared so much about someone and was clearly smitten by you. On the other, he was afraid the man would make a move far too late.
“And your plan, Master Wayne, is?”
Bruce dropped his head on the kitchen table. The white marble felt cold against his skin, and he relished in the comfort it provided.
“I don’t know, Alfred. I don’t know.”
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“I thought I told you to stop hanging out with her?”
Bruce would recognise that voice anywhere.
As soon as it reached his ears, his fists clenched involuntarily. It seemed to him it was second nature to be angry around that piece of shit.
“Nate, she’s my oldest friend… I miss her terribly; it’s been ages since we've hung out.”
You were walking a few steps ahead of him, arm linked with Nathan’s. Well, rather, Nathan was gripping your arm, and you were simply being pulled along. Harshly.
“Ah, I see. So you’d rather hang out with her than me.” Nathan scoffed and shook his head, and you turned to face him. Bruce could see the heartbreak in your eyes.
“No! That’s not true!”
“She hates me. She doesn’t think we’re good together and wants to break us apart. And you want to hang out with her. Just tell me you want to break up and leave me the fuck alone!”
Nathan shoved you away from him, before shaking his head and walking faster down the road. Your teared up and ran after him. “Nate!” you yelled. “Nate! Please!” Once you reached him, you held onto his hands tightly, trying to get him to stop. He did not. “Please, Nate, I’m sorry! I won’t bring her up again, I promise!”
Nathan kept walking, not even sparing you a glance.
“I promise Nate, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, please, forgive me!”
No one seemed to give two damns about the two of you. After all, people were selfish and did not care enough about the world around them. Only Bruce’s gaze was on you.
Nathan finally stopped, and sighed, looking at the floor.
“If you want to be her friend, and don’t love me anymore, I get it. That’s okay. You can move out, get your stuff – “
“No! No, I don’t want to be her friend, Nate, I don’t,” you pleaded, holding both his hands and shaking your head vigorously. Bruce felt like a creep, staring at you like that, staring into your private life like that, but what else could he do? “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. I promise. I love you. Okay?” You placed yourself on the tip of your toes to reach his face and kissed his lips gently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please, I love you, please forgive me…”
Bruce swore he could see the glint of victory in Nathan’s eyes, and it made his insides churn.
“You promise?”
“I do! I promise! I love you so much, Nate, I won’t talk about her ever again. I love you and only you. You’re the love of my life!” You reached up to kiss him again, and Nathan responded, albeit unexcitedly. It was enough for you though, and you linked your hand with his. “I love you, Nate. So much. You’re the only person I need.”
The blonde man hummed, and you pulled him along. You tried your best to keep him close to you, but he wasn’t responding. That’s when Bruce decided he needed to intervene.
It was only when Bruce said your name a second time, louder, that you turned around, eyes widening with surprise.
“Bruce!” He could tell you weren’t expecting to see him here. He could also tell you were scared. Not of him, of course, but of the man at your side, by the way your whole body tensed, and your eyes drifted from him to Bruce.
“Ah. Bruce.” Nathan spit, looking at him with a fake expression of politeness. Bruce could tell his smile wasn’t real and noticed how his hold tightened on you. “What a coincidence. Have you perhaps been following us?” He laughed dryly. It was a poor attempt at a joke, and an even poorer attempt of figuring out if you’d listened to his whole conversation with you.
“Ah, no. I was just on my way home.”
“What were you up to?” you asked, voice relaxed as it often was when you were around him.
“Well, I'm celebrating the establishment of a new children's school in my family's name. It's a very important cause, and I’m throwing a party later this week. Alfred and I were shopping together.” Bruce replied.
“You? Shopping?” There was a happy tilt to your voice. Bruce only wished you would always sound like that.
“Well, I wasn’t alone. Baby steps.” He chuckled.
“And who is this Alfred?” Nathan interjected. “Some servant of yours?”
Bruce frowned. He did not like the way your boyfriend referred to the man who was the closest thing he had to a family. Still, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anger.
“Alfred is my butler. He has been with my family for many years, and I consider him part of it. He is not a servant, and it shocks me that someone surely so well-read as you would refer to someone with such a degrading term.” Bruce raised his eyebrow, and he could swear he saw Nathan shrink a bit. It made you smile. It made Bruce feel good.
“My apologies, Bruce.” Nathan responded, offering a tight-lipped smile. He did not like losing, and that’s all he felt himself doing when he was around Bruce Wayne. Losing his temper, losing his control, losing his upper hand. It was something he detested greatly. He needed to get away from there. And quick.
“Honey, we need to go. Don’t want to steal too much of Bruce’s time, do we?”
“It’s not a problem, really,” Bruce retorted, ignoring your boyfriend, and turning to you instead. That’s when he noticed what you were wearing. Another jacket – a big one, oversized, a turtleneck and a pair of jeans. Gone were your shorts and flowy tops, you were now covered from head to toe. Why? To conceal what, exactly? And now that he got a good look at your face, was the hell was going on with your lip? It seemed split. “There’s nothing else in my list. Say, do you have any plans for next Friday? I would love if you two stopped by. It’s for a good cause, and perhaps you’ll have fun?”
He had to get you there. He had to get you alone with him, safe, away from Nathan.
“A party? At Wayne Manor?” Nathan asked.
“Yes. Will you be there?”
You looked up at your boyfriend, hope in your eyes.
Nathan noticed your excitement and blew air through his nose – the closest you’d get to a chuckle.
“Of course. We would love to go.”
“Really?” You beamed. That was not the answer you were expecting from him. Nathan hated Bruce – you knew this. Did this mean he was trying? Trying to befriend your friends? For your sake?
“Of course.” Nathan bent down to kiss your forehead, earning a genuine smile from you. “If you’d like to.”
“I would!”
It was small, the notion of a happy relationship, the notion that you were happy. But Bruce saw right through it. None of it was real. He was just playing a part.
“We should get going. It was nice seeing you, Bruce.”
“Oh – okay!” you yelped when Nathan turned you around and pulled you along with him. “It was nice seeing you, Bruce! I’ll see you Friday!”
And just like that, you were gone.
But Bruce wasn’t one to give up. Something felt off. Something smelled fishy. Nathan had been too kind, too nice, too allowing. Was it all a façade? He knew Nathan would never allow you to go to a party, especially one hosted by him. Something was definitely up. His feet moved, and before he could realise it, he was following the two figures in front of him to a dark alley. He heard voices and walked deeper.
That’s how he found you, pressed up against the wall, Nathan’s hand cruelly pressed against the hollow of your throat.
“Why the fuck are you still talking to him?” Nathan grumbled, tightening the hold he had on your throat. His knuckles turned white. “Huh!? You say you love me and then go around and fuck that rich motherfucker? Is that it, yeah?”
“N-No!” you sobbed, struggling to breath. Tears streamed down your face, hands clutching his. “Nate, please. You’re hurting me.” Your words were interrupted by coughs, and just before your vision could go completely black, you saw Nathan get dragged around and thrown on the floor. As soon as your vision (and your air) returned, you saw Bruce do to Nathan what he’d done to you.
“How dare you lay your disgusting hands on her,” he bellowed, and you somehow recognised that voice. It felt familiar. Bruce turned to you, and shook his head, arm still against Nathan’s neck. “Are you okay?” You nodded silently, wiping your tears, and taking a few steps back.
Bruce was surprised no one else had interrupted the two of you, but then again, this was Gotham. It didn’t matter if Batman was ridding crime for good, people would still look the other way, far too accustomed to violence to even bother.
“Are you seriously going to let him do this?” Nathan scowled, fighting against Bruce’s iron grip – it was no use. Somehow, this rich dumb playboy was stronger than he looked.
“I… I…” You looked in between the two men, still wiping your tears away. Part of you wanted Bruce to teach him a lesson. The other wanted him to let go of your boyfriend.
“Fuck – do something! Are you going to let this brute hurt me like this!?”
“Keep your filthy mouth shut,” Bruce whispered, before turning to face you completely. “What do you want me to do?”
This surprised you. You had a choice? You could decide?
“If you want to, I’ll beat him to a pulp myself. We’ll take him to the police. I’ll protect you. I promise I will. I can take care of you. You will never have to look him in the eye again.” Bruce’s eyes were filled with longing, and you found yourself walking towards him.
Wouldn’t that be nice? Nathan could go to jail. He’d leave you alone forever. No more fighting, no more hitting you, no more hurting you. You’d be free.
“Tell him to let go!” Now, Nathan’s face was turning a nasty shade of purple, and his lovely blue eyes were wide with fear. “Tell him! Are you going to let him do this to me? I love you!”
Bruce said your name softly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s done nothing but lie to you over and over again. You can end this nightmare right now.”
“Please! I’ll be better! I promise” Nathan coughed, the lack of air getting to him. “I was just jealous! You know me, I – I get like this! I thought you were going to leave me for him! I can’t compete with Bruce Wayne.”
“Shut up.” Bruce shook his head. “All you’ve been doing is hurting her. Abusing her. Do you seriously think I’m letting you go unscathed?”
It was scary, to be honest, seeing Bruce like this. You’d never seen him this angry, and he somehow reminded you of Nathan. Granted, the anger wasn’t directed towards you, but it still made you feel uneasy and unsafe, and all you wanted him was to go back to the sweet and kind Bruce who stole spoonfulls of your ice-cream and cheated at Monopoly when you weren’t looking.
“Bruce?” you whispered, frozen in place.
“Yeah?”
“Let go.”
“What?”
“Please let go.”
He looked at you and noticed the fear in your eyes. Something inside him broke and he wanted to punish himself for making you feel like that. Were you afraid of him? His hold on Nathan’s neck loosened, and the latter took this as an opportunity to get away and walk towards you. Nathan embraced you tightly, burrowing his face in your hair and crying loudly.
“I’m so sorry… I hate myself for the way I’ve been treating you… You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness… I’m just a mess who seems to ruin everything… Please forgive me for being so possessive, I just – I just never feel like I’m worthy of you.” Nathan’s lies spilled from his lips, and the very same lips found their way to yours, kissing you softly as he held your face in his hands.
You seemed unresponsive, though, eyes fixed on Bruce. Was this how he always behaved? Had you simply not seen it before? Would he act this way towards you?
“I’m sorry…” his voice somehow got through to you. “I just… I couldn’t just stand by and watch as he hurt you…”
It was true, you gathered. He’d said it before. He’d always put himself between you and Nathan whenever you two fought. He’d never allowed Nathan to mistreat you in front of him, always protecting you – or trying to – no matter what.
Still, it had been horrifying to see those eyes who regarded you with such kindness, look at someone else with nothing but rage. To hear that lovely voice that always cheered you up sound so hateful. It wasn’t your Bruce. It simply wasn’t.
Your arms wrapped themselves around Nathan’s torso, almost as if mechanically. You had to do it. It’s what you did. Nathan yelled and fought and hurt. And then he’d apologize and take you back. It made you feel sick and nauseous and empty inside. But you knew no one else you love you like he did. No one would love you as passionately as Nathan did. And you didn’t want to be all alone.
“Let’s go home, okay, baby?” he asked, one hand caressing your cheek, the other rubbing circles on your hip affectionately. “We can cuddle and watch a movie. Anything you like. How does that sound?”
“Don’t,” Bruce pleaded, eyebrows furrowing. Were you seriously still going home with him? After all that had happened?
You did not break eye contact. You knew you shouldn’t go back home with Nate. At least a part of you did. A part of you knew this was wrong. Knew that you deserved better, knew that Nate was abusive and did not deserve you. But that part had long been defeated, and all that was left were small voices in your head that yelled “No one else is going to love you like this” repeatedly.
And you always let them win.
“Let’s go,” you mumbled.
Nathan wrapped his arm around your waist, kissed your forehead, and Bruce watched as you two left the alley.
You did not text him anymore.
And on Friday, none of you appeared at the Manor for the party.
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It was close to 2 in the morning when Bruce was stirred awake by the sounds of knocking on his front door.
He’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from exploring a few new gadgets and functions Lucius had implemented on his suit. Patrol had been rough on him, the new holographic projection system taking a while to get used to, but well worth it in the end. It would spare him a handful of bruises and stress.
Alfred had retired for the night long ago, so it was just Bruce, a copy of a book you’d mentioned in passing once and he decided to read, and a fire cackling in the fireplace.
He got up, groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and made his way towards the door. Far too tired to be careful (really, who the hell would be knocking at his door at 2 in the morning? And it’s not like he could blink the sleep away in a matter of seconds. He had enough training for that) Bruce opened the door, coming face to face with a hunched figure.
“This better be good for you to be knocking on my god damned door at 2 in the morning –“
That’s when the figure in front of him shifted. It was no longer a mere figure. It was you.
You were hunched over, looking down, head covering your whole face, and Bruce could make out faint sobbing. He called your name once, twice, three times, softly. All you could do was shake your head. hands tightly clutched in front of you.
“Come on, let’s go inside.”
Bruce stepped aside so you could walk in. He would not touch you without your permission, without not knowing what had happened. You stepped inside, shaking all over. The clothes on your body were comprised of a flimsy pyjama set, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of pants. Your feet were bare save for the fluffy bunny slippers on them. You looked cold – had you left in a hurry?
“Hey, can we sit on the couch?” Bruce asked, fluffing up some pillows. You nodded and followed him, sitting down, head still hung low. Would you even look at him?
“Do you want something to drink?” He kneeled next to you but did not try to look into your eyes. He wanted to be on the same level as you, make you feel safe, but also give you the space and freedom to move away from him should you want that. He’d never want to smother you. You nodded your head softly, and Bruce was quick to move to the kitchen. He knew your favourite by heart, and within a few minutes, had it prepared and on top of the coffee table in front of you. “There it is,” he mumbled, sitting back again. He'd wait for you to take the first step.
And when you did, all the air left his lungs.
You looked up, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, silent tears streaming down your face. Most of the lights were off, the fire being the only thing illuminating your features. Your delicate lips, your nose, your beautiful eyes, and the black and purple bruise surrounding one of them. The look Bruce gave you, whatever it was, just made you sob uncontrollably once again. He didn’t know if whether to touch you, come closer or back off, but you answered that question yourself when you wrapped your arms around him, sobbing loudly.
“I’m sorry…” you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. Bruce reciprocated the hug, spreading his legs so you could move comfortably in between them. He adjusted you in his lap and kissed your forehead, just holding you tightly.
“No, none of that,” he shushed you, rocking both your bodies back and forth. “You don’t have to apologize. Never.”
“It wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t Bruce, you have to believe me…”
“I do. I believe you. It’s not your fault.”
He wanted to know what the hell that jerk had done to you. But he knew he couldn’t – you might close yourself off even more and refuse to talk if he pressed further.
So, he made sure you were comfortable. Bruce picked you up and moved to the couch, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, and pulling you closer. You took the hint immediately, snuggling up as close as possible to him, face pressed against his neck. You were hiding from him, but it felt nice to be in his arms.
The two of you stayed like that for a while. Bruce turned on the TV and allowed you to pick a channel (“Mhm” for yes and “Hm-hm” for no) until you were watching some silly rom-com that got you chuckling occasionally. Bruce was stroking your arms gently, bending down to press kisses against your forehead whenever he felt you might need them. He wasn’t paying any attention to the movie in front of him, instead coming up with a plan to throw that idiot in jail.
After you’d finished your drink, you gathered the courage to shift in his lap and completely face him. The bruise covering your eye was on full display, and Bruce could now make out the dried blood on your lip.
“He… he hurt me, Bruce…” you mumbled, reaching for his hand. Bruce squeezed yours tightly, a silent reminder that he was there and listening, and that you weren’t alone. “I’m so scared… He pushed me and kept hitting me, and I was begging him to stop but he wouldn’t… I didn’t know what else to do, so I just waited for him to fall asleep and ran… I had to – I had to wait. He wanted to sleep next to me. He kept apologizing and promising he’d be better, so I told him it was okay, and I went to bed with him…” Bruce wiped away your tears, nodding along. Outside, he was the picture of compassion and sympathy. Inside, a fire was burning, and he had to control every bone in his body not to get into his car and drive to your (hopefully ex by now) boyfriend’s house.
“You’re so brave,” he muttered, running his hand through your hair to soothe you. “I can’t believe how hard that must’ve been. But you’re so brave, and I’m so proud of you.”
“I thought he could change,” you started to sob, shaking your head. “He – he said he would. He said that he loved me a lot and he’d only hit me because he was jealous and afraid I would leave him. All because I told him I regretted not going to your party that Friday… I’m so sorry, Bruce.”
“No apologies needed. You’re not the one to blame here, okay? It’s him, and him alone.” His hands reached up to wipe your tears, and you flinched, the pressure of his fingers on your bruise sending painful memories through your head. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Let’s take care of this, shall we?”
And he did.
Bruce took you to the master bathroom and sat you on top of the counter while he fetched his first-aid kit and a few ointments and creams. Your hands never left him as he worked – on his shirt, on his shoulders, on his hands. He cleaned the bruise with some water and pressed an ice pack against it to reduce the swelling. He told you a few anecdotes that had happened at Wayne Enterprises – angry costumers who tried to scam him, spilled coffees, and other amusing situations – to keep you grounded. His voice was like a lifeline to you.
After the swelling was taken care of, he softly applied ointment around your eye, being careful as to not put too much pressure on the pads of his fingers. He smeared some of it on the tip of your nose, earning a smile from you, before moving on to your lip and taking care of it too. Once all was done, he took a step back.
“Don’t look at me like that…” you mumbled, looking away.
“How?”
“Like that. Like I’m pitiable.”
“Hm.” Bruce tilted his head, pretending to think your statement over, “No. Not pitiable – that’s not who I’m looking at.”
You met his gaze again.
“I’m looking at the bravest woman I have probably ever known.” He crouched in front of you to stay at your eye level. Your hands did not leave his. “I’m looking at a remarkable woman, one with a big heart and a courageous spirit. You’ve endured all of this, and you’re still standing.”
“I’m a coward, Bruce,” you shook your head. “I let him to this to me. I let him break me. He’s right – who would ever love me after him? Who will ever love me like him? Maybe this was a mistake – I shouldn’t have left me. He’s the only one who will love me as I am.”
Bruce was quick to refute you.
“He’s wrong. I hope you know just how wrong he is. Nathan has spent all this time hurting you, lying to you.”
“He hasn’t – I’m broken, I’m damaged goods – who will ever want me?”
“You’re not damaged goods. You hear me? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re so kind and brave. What you endured is beyond me, and I know I will never understand it, but please believe me when I say that you’re not broken. You’re not damaged. And Nathan is not right. He’s lied to you.”
You looked at him and searched his eyes for any sign of falsehood, of deceit. All you found was kindness. And a warmer emotion you couldn’t pinpoint yet but wanted to figure out.
“You light up even the darkest of days,” Bruce mumbled, moving closer to you. His hand moved to cup your face and you instinctively pressed against it. You’d never felt safer than whenever you were in Bruce’s arms. “And I will do everything in my power to protect you. To keep you safe. The truth is…” He looked at the floor for a few seconds, before meeting your eyes again. “I love you.” You sucked in a breath. “I have, for a while. And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, nor what you need to hear. And I’m not saying this to force you to be with me, especially after I took care of you. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t expect compensation. I don’t. I’m just saying this because – because I want you to know Nathan is wrong. You’re not damaged goods. And I love you. So much. Ever since I met you, my life has been happier, brighter. For years I’ve had a hole inside of me. Something empty, something that would eat me up from the inside. But then you came along. And you filled that void. And Nathan is so, so wrong, because how could someone not love you? How could someone not love you? How could he try and make you believe you’re not worthy of love, when that’s all you deserve?”
Tears were now streaming down both of your faces. Bruce had never been this vulnerable before, and to his surprise, it didn’t hurt nor scare him. It felt right, to trust you like this, to open up.
“You don’t need to say it back. Please don’t feel forced to say it back. I just wanted you to know that you’re worthy of love, and that I’ll be here to help you. Always. Even if all you feel towards me is friendship. I’ll protect you forever, I promise. He will never touch you again. No one will.”
When you did not reply, Bruce’s stomach fell. Had he screwed up? Had this been a terrible occasion to let you know of his feelings? It wasn’t ideal, no, but he had to tell you. Fuck. He had screwed up, didn’t he? And now he would lose you forever –
You interrupted his thoughts, hands on his jaw, pulling him closer. You blinked slowly – once, twice.
“I love you too,” you whispered, afraid that should you say it any louder, the fantasy might break. “I think I have for a while too. But I was so scared, Bruce… I have nothing to offer – I work a shitty job, and Nathan was paying for everything. My bills, my groceries, my clothes. I was so afraid of leaving. And then whenever I was with you, all I felt… Was happiness.” You chuckled through the tears. “You made me feel so happy, Bruce. And so safe. I always feel safe with you. But I was so scared… I’m so sorry…”
“No – shh. You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” Bruce shook his head, turning to place a kiss on your palm. “You’re so brave. Have I said this already? You’re so brave. I’m so sorry for everything you had to endure. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything earlier. Shit, I’m an idiot. I should’ve reported him to the police as soon as I realised he was hurting you, but I was too scared he’d turn their heads and you’d get the short end of the stick.”
You smiled, something warm blooming in your chest. Bruce really did care for you, didn’t he?
“My plan was to report him, but I didn’t know if you’d lie to the police in order to cover everything up. I was afraid you would, and he would hurt you further. I’m sorry.”
You repeated his words back to him.
“You don’t have to be sorry. You always stood up for me whenever Nathan was around. You never let him talk to me the way he did whenever you were there. I just wish I hadn’t been so blind… I wish I’d trusted you the first time you told me he was no good… It’s just – we’d been together for so long, and I was so afraid to leave him. Nathan was all I knew. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be unloved.”
“You’re not.” Bruce shook his head again. “Not unloved. I love you. You’re worthy of love, and happiness, and kindness, and good things.”
You nodded at him, a single tear running down your cheek. This one, however, was a tear of happiness. Your eyes flickered to his lips, and Bruce whispered.
“Can I kiss you?”
You chuckled.
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
“Is this funny?” he asked with a smile.
“You’re always asking for my permission. If you can touch me, if you can hold me.”
“I would never do anything you were uncomfortable with. Anything you didn’t want.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Please kiss me,” you mumbled, and no other words were needed, as Bruce closed the space between the two of you and kissed you on the lips.
It was the softest kiss you’d ever had in your entire life. There was no roughness, no edge, no anger, or rage – all the things Nathan kissed you with. Bruce, however, kissed you with love. His lips moved in tandem with yours, brushing and caressing and telling a story of tenderness and warmth. It felt nice. It felt perfect. It felt like you had been made to kiss him. You pulled him up by his shirt, and he did so, placing his hands on either side of the marble to trap you. Your legs spread instinctively to accommodate him, and his hands brushed against your cheeks and hair, fingers shyly exploring, afraid to break the moment he’d been waiting for for so long. It was only a shame it had to be in these circumstances.
When breathing became more important than kissing, you pulled away and Bruce pulled you against his chest. You breathed him in, the smell of cologne and bodywash and something so inherently Bruce calming you down almost instantly.
“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, gripping his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you alive right now. And maybe it was. You needed him.
“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” he whispered back, kissing your forehead. “And I’ll fix this. We will fix this.”
“What if he comes after me? He’s a very respected doctor, Bruce, I – I don’t want him to hurt you or anything.”
This caused Bruce to chuckle and pull you back to look at your face. Even with a terrible bruise covering your features, you were the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Your courage and kindness only added to that charm. What a lucky guy he was.
“I don’t usually brag about my status, but I happen to be Bruce Wayne. I’ll take care of him. I promise. You won’t have to worry about anything.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”
You smiled. Bruce loved your smile.
“Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked, caressing the side of your cheek that wasn’t bruised. “I can sleep in one of the guest rooms. My bed is quite comfortable, you can stay there. Unless you want to stay somewhere else? I won’t force you to stay here.”
You shook your head.
“Here is fine. Although…”
“Yes? I’ll do anything.”
A blush crept up on your features.
“I… I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t.”
Bruce nodded.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“Please.”
Bruce gave you a soft look, a quiet question, asking for your permission. You answered it by lifting your arms and allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, and you sighed at how comfortable it was. He smiled. You looked content as you adjusted, getting under the covers.
“Are you going to join me or just stare at me like that?”
“I’m just happy you’re here. Safe, with me,” he said. “I’m sorry the circumstances were… not the best.”
“I’m here now, though, aren’t I? And so are you.”
“I am. I’m not going anywhere.”
Bruce moved and laid down next to you, pulling the covers over himself. “Can I?” he asked. You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around you, bringing you close to his chest. Your bodies fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had come together at last. You entwined your legs with his and rested your head on his chest while his arms snaked around you, protecting you even in your sleep. The beat of his heart soothed you and lulled you to slumber in an instant.
Before you lost conscience, you felt Bruce’s lips move against your head, and made out a soft “I love you”.
It was the best you’d ever slept.
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It was hard adjusting to live after that, but Bruce was there for you every step of the way.
You finally filed a report against Nathan. It was tough, and you cried and doubted yourself when you gave your statement, but with Bruce by your side, you felt like you could do it. He reminded you of how brave you really were, and how much you could accomplish – with him or without him. But you liked his company anyway.
Thanks to Bruce’s resources, an investigation was conducted. You’d kept records of nearly every time the two of you fought in your diary, and even photographed every bruise he’d given you. He did not know of this, of course. You did it whenever he was asleep, a small voice in your head telling you it’d be useful to bring him down.
Apparently that little voice had been right, and your pictures were essential for the investigation.
Your friends testified in your favour, and you had cried when they’d hugged you after, congratulating you on your bravery, and lamenting what you’d gone through. You’d missed them so much.
All seemed like it was going in the right direction.
Your old apartment had been cleared, and although you’d gotten a place of your own (Bruce told you he did not want you to feel like you had to move in with him simply because he was helping you out and you two were in the beginning of a relationship), you found yourself spending more time at Bruce’s manor than your own house, and you quickly sold it in order to move in with him.
Everything was going perfectly.
You felt happy – more than ever – going about your daily job, meeting with friends for coffee and lunch and walks on the park without being berated or yelled at. Bruce supported you on every endeavour you went on, encouraging you to spend time with your friends and go out with them, instead of keeping you home all to himself like Nathan did.
In fact, Bruce was the perfect boyfriend. He’d bring you breakfast in bed sometimes, offer you rides to your job, bring you flowers when he could tell you’d had a hard day, and even when he had to cancel date nights or other plans you two had made because of some last minute emergency at Wayne Enterprises, he made it up to you later, with lots of love and reassurance, perhaps a bouquet of flowers and a ticket to whatever event you’d been interested in.
Bruce reminded you of what love felt like. True love. He never raised his voice at you, opting to voice out his concerns in a calming manner. He never made you feel like you weren’t worthy of him – quite the contrary. Every single day, he thanked you for choosing him, letting you know just how lucky he was to have you in his life.
Alfred liked you too – very much. He adopted you as his family rather quickly, teaching you how to make your favourite drinks (even better than you used to do them), and spending time with you whenever Bruce wasn’t home, and you felt particularly lonely. He liked having you around. In his opinion, “Master Wayne was in need of a woman’s touch in his house and his life”. You couldn’t agree more and loved him immensely.
There was only one time you crossed paths with Nathan after you’d left him that night.
The Gotham Police had gathered enough information and evidence to build a case against him, and you’d been called to testify. You weren’t sure you wanted to do it – you were still scared of whatever he could do to you.
That day, Bruce sat you down on his lap, kissed your forehead and promised Nathan wouldn’t even be able to touch you, and that he and your friends would be there.
It was all the reassurance you needed, and although you choked back a sob once or twice once your gaze met his, your testimony was clear and strong, and it was enough for the trial to be wrapped up in around two days (and perhaps Bruce had pulled a few strings to get it over it so quickly, but you didn’t need to know that, now did you?)
As he was being handcuffed, Nathan turned to you, face twisted in agony.
“Babe – “ he yelled, doing his best to free himself from the police officers’ grips. “I’m so sorry – tell them this is just a misunderstanding! Tell them! I love you so much, fuck, don’t let them do this to me!”
When it was obvious you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he furrowed his eyebrows.
“You slut! You stupid bitch! I bet you’re fucking him, aren’t you? You’re fucking the rich bastard, aren’t you? I knew it! You’re a slut – you’re disgusting! No one will ever love you as I loved you, you’re a slut now, and you’ll be a slut fore – “
Bruce’s fist collided with Nathan’s face, promptly shutting him the fuck up. He adjusted his cuffs and his blazer and offered you a doe-eyed look.
“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Officers, I’ll be sure to guarantee you all a very nice Christmas bonus if you keep this little incident in between us.”
The excited nods from the officers around him were enough of an answer for him to walk away unscathed. That, and your giggles.
“Couldn’t stand hearing him go on and on about you like that,” he’d muttered to you lately as you cuddled up together on the couch and watched a movie.
That was the last you saw and heard of Nathan. You’d heard Bruce tell Alfred that he was going to be locked up for eternity one day, and while it was suspicious (surely it wouldn’t warrant him a life sentence, would it?), the thought of Bruce using his influence to put your abusive ex-boyfriend behind bars forever made you smile.
Right now, you were sitting on top of a plaid picnic blanket in the gardens of Wayne Manor. On your right hand was a book, on your left hand the chocolate brown curls of your boyfriend, whose head was resting on top of your lap.
You had never felt so at peace with yourself.
Your physical scars had faded, bruises had healed, leaving your soft skin as it once was, but you were sure the emotional ones would remain. Luckily, you had the best boyfriend in the world to aid you in every step of the way.
His voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, eyes closed. This was one of his favourite things to do – lay on your lap after a hard week and relax under the sun. It was one of your favourites as well. You got to spend time with the person you loved the most and remind yourself that even though your life was so dark once, it could get better. It was getting better.
“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”
“Not so bad?”
“Fine. You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Hmm. That’s a lot of responsibility.” He raised an eyebrow.
“I think you’ll manage.”
Bruce chuckled and lifted his head up ever so slightly. You rolled your eyes with a smile. How needy. Bending down, you met him halfway, kissing him tenderly. His tongue swept over your lower lip, and you sighed contentedly before he pulled away and closed his eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Bruce. So much.”
Yes.
Everything was going to be better.
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A/N: And that's it! Oh my god what a rollercoaster hahaha! I hope you guys enjoyed this! I understand all abusive relationships are different - a lot of this came from my own experience.
I also hope the ending, the little epilogue wasn't too rushed! I wanted it to be a nice conclusion, not dwelling too much on the past, but rather focusing on the hope of the future.
Alright, this is all! I think I'll take a break from Bruce fics for a while, hahaha. Once again, I really do hope you all enjoyed this.
Have a wonderful day ahead! <3
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usedtobecooler · 9 months
Text
dropping monday 14/08…
this must be the place
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eddie munson x steve harrington x afab!reader
summary: the summer of 1985 is only just beginning when a trip to scoops ahoy! unlocks some deeply hidden feelings you have swirling in your stomach for steve harrington. eddie munson won't let you live it down, and maybe that’s due to his own feelings too, but a chance encounter on a hot night at lovers lake sends you all down a rabbit hole you could never of prepared for.
content warnings: 18+ only minors dni, sexual content (threesome, piv sex, oral sex, dirty talk, van sex), porn with plot, eddie and reader are fwbs with feelings, gentle bullying and banter, eddie is canonically queer, mentions of past king!steve, brief homophobia mentions, a heartfelt conversation. feelings are felt on all three sides, if you don't like it look away <3 reader isn't explicitly described as alt/goth but it's implied.
sneak peek below the cut
You watch curiously as the Harrington charm working it’s magic right in front of your very eyes, Steve steps in close to Linda, brushes a loose curl back — Jesus Christ, why was that doing something for you — and says something you can’t make out, but it’s enough to have Linda blushing and pulling nervously on the hem of her denim shorts.
Why were you jealous?
The telltale noise of an obnoxiously loud horn beeping lets you — and probably the entire neighbourhood — know Eddie had arrived to pick you up, snapping you completely out of your daydream. Your lips curl up into a smirk when both Linda and Steve jump ten feet at the sound, Steve rolling his eyes and scoffing.
What a bitch.
Eddie catches you looking from your window and lets out an obnoxious laugh, grinning up at you with his annoyingly perfect teeth. You wanted to punch him, maybe, but Friday nights were for one thing and one thing only, and that was getting high at Lovers Lake in the flatbed of the van.
So it’d have to wait until you didn’t need him for the weed or the ride.
Summer meant the pretty sunset as a backdrop whilst you smoked the day's events away — it somehow made everything that little bit more relaxing, watching the swirls of orange, pink and purple melt together as your brain fogged with the drugs, a nice settling in your tummy as your high took over.
It was second only to the heavy September rain that you loved so much, you found yourself yearning for it all year around. The loud patter of the large droplets clinking on the tin roof of Eddie’s van, buried under a nest of blankets to keep the cool chill off your arms and legs. Eddie’s hot breath fanning over your neck as he kissed it, chest heavy against your back. Warm, solid and comforting.
Maybe you were in love with him, or maybe you weren’t. You didn’t want to think too much about that.
You glide out of the house as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to arouse suspicion about where you were going. Even in your twenties, your parents would still have a few choice words for you in regards to Eddie Munson, and you were in no mood for the lecture. You’d heard it too many times in the years you’d known him, since fifth grade when he pushed you in the playground and you pulled his hair in retaliation.
From that moment on you were inseparable, to the dismay of your parents.
You’re aware of two other sets of eyes watching you from across the street as you bounce down the driveway, all smiles as excitement thrums through your entire body. Eddie’s maybe looking at you like you hung the fucking moon or something, but that’s probably to do with the fact you’re wearing his shirt and looking the epitome of hot.
Okay, maybe you had a complex.
“So that’s where my shirt went,” Eddie hums, giving you an appreciative once-over as you wrench the passenger door open with a horrific sounding crunch of metal, “looks better on you, I’ve gotta say.”
You clamber into the van with a huff, laughter spilling into it, “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to woo me, Munson. We’re gonna fuck anyway, don’t worry.”
Eddie laughs loud and so fucking obnoxious, as if for somebody else’s entertainment, and it does catch the attention of the lovebirds on the other side of the road. You look over just as Steve catches your eyes, and suddenly your chest feels kind of heavy as he stares at you with a kind of intensity that you can’t put a finger on.
“Take a fuckin’ picture, Harrington,” Eddie cackles, head basically out the fucking window and he’s grinning at them both, snapping you completely out of it, “that’s as close as you’re getting to her, count your lucky stars.”
Eddie and Steve weren’t friends. In fact quite the opposite. Steve and Tommy were miserable assholes for years, made Eddie’s life hell at any given turn unless they needed him for drugs.
You think back, and truthfully the turning point was during Junior year. Steve had tripped Eddie in the hall, called him ‘queer’. Eddie didn’t stand for that, sucker punched Steve right in the jaw, hard enough that his skull hit the locker adjacent to him.
“That shit might hurt you when your daddy calls you it, but you’ve gotta do a lot worse than call me exactly what I am as an insult, Harrington.” Eddie had grinned, vicious and seething, as he watched Steve clutch desperately at his bruised jaw, wide eyed and hair askew from the force.
Steve never bothered Eddie again after that.
In fact, not long after, Steve never bothered anybody again. Maybe the knock to the head had quite literally knocked some sense into him, or something.
“You good?” Eddie’s voice, his large hand gripping your thigh knocks you back into reality, out of the daydream, and the grounding is enough to have your entire body melting into the simple touch.
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hockeyboysimagines · 4 months
Text
Work wife
A Vince Dunn blurb for @cellythefloshie. This is not in any way related to Fuck me like I’m famous. This is just a fun blurb we talked about brought to life.
Warnings: Sex, cheating
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“There’s my work wife.”
You half turned to find Vince coming down the hallway smiling at you.
Working for the Kraken was a dream come true really.
You couldn’t actually ask for a better job, or better environment to be in. It was a tight knit group full of great people who worked hard, and got along well.
And then there was Vince.
You two had clicked from the beginning. He was easy to talk to, and you liked him a lot. The more time you spent together, the more you got to know him and the more comfortable you became with him.
Maybe too comfortable.
Which is how you wound up screaming his name one night after drinks, after the flirtation between you guys had finally boiled over and spilled into his apartment. It had been extremely awkward when you saw him on Monday, but when he caught you in the parking garage and asked to talk, you’d agreed. And that’s how it all started. Secret meetups, sneaking around, and even texts from a fake phone number, your assistant “Jessica”, to keep things under wraps. It felt both wrong, and exciting, but you just couldn’t stop. While it had started as a secret hookup, it hadn’t stayed that way. There was genuine feelings there now.
The term “work wife” had started as a joke, thrown out by a coworker of yours, who obviously had no clue what was happening behind closed doors, but it stuck. There was really only one problem with it.
You were someone’s real life wife.
The idea of Vince made your husband clearly uncomfortable in the beginning, before anything was actually going on, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it, and you didn’t really want to either. Your husband was a good guy, but being around Vince made you realize you really didn’t have a thing in common. He was 8 years older than you, and you had married young, feeling the pressure from your family to marry someone who was financially stable. You “loved” him, but you weren’t really “In love” with him, at least not anymore. Not that you were in love with Vince either, but your feelings for him had drowned out the feelings for your husband. And beyond that, you had suspicions that he was embroiled in his own case of infidelity.
You felt really bad at first, but then he started staying late, random business trips with no warning, and you’d even found a receipt for purchased jewelry that you hadn’t received just last month. He often smelled of perfume and the lipstick you’d found on the inside of one of his shirts was a color you’d never worn. You hadn’t confronted him because you just didn’t care, and truly you had no room to talk.
It was a rock and a hard place situation that you’d landed yourself in, but the thrill of it all overrode the anxiety of being found out.
Not only would you lose your job, your respect in the work place, and your marriage, but it would also put a black mark on your career moving forward and make Vince look bad, none of which you wanted.
He made his way past you and winked, but then paused at the end of the hallway, just below a camera so he couldn’t be seen, and motioned for you to check your phone. You absently pulled out your phone, turning away from him so it looked like you just happened to get a message.
Meet me in the room.
“The room” as he called it was a vacant room in the basement of the arena that was used mostly for storage, and sat in the middle of a hallway that was void of cameras. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes there was no other choice. There was few places you could go with him that he wasn’t recognized here, so you were limited to the room, his apartment and your place only if your husband was on a business trip out of state and even then it was risky.
You took the long way, careful not to rush, giving small glances here and there to make sure that no one was following you, and slipped into the hallway that your office was located, which conveniently also led the the hallway he was waiting for you in.
You made you way down the corridor, a set of stairs and then down to the vacant room. He was leaned against the wall, eyes moving up your bare legs and you neared him.
“Hi wifey.” He said smiling cheekily as he held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside before following you in. You gave a little shudder as the room grew dark when the door closed and you felt his hands on your waist.
“You look nice today.” He said in your ear, turning you to face him. Goddamnit he was gorgeous, even more up close. In curiosity you had done a google search of him right after you’d started working there and saw that everyone else thought that too, not to your surprise, but you were lucky enough to see all his body parts up close and personal and you felt bad for the people who didn’t get to.
“You say that to me everyday.” You ran a hand up his arm as he reached forward to press his lips against your neck.
“Well then I guess it’s true.” He said softly, hand gripping your chin as he pulled his mouth off your neck and caught your lips a very hot, wet kiss.
You felt a heat start to spread in your stomach as he backed you up against a table, tongue pushing in your mouth, cutting off your air. The way he moved his tongue against yours made your heart race, fingers gripping at your blouse, which was tucked into a pencil skirt, and pulling it loose so he could unbutton it, and hoisted you up to sit on the edge of the table. His hands, slightly rough against your skin as he reached the bottom button and ran his hands up your waist, pausing at your bra and pulling away from you.
“Is this new?” He asked breathlessly gesturing at your bra.
You nodded and watched as he reached a hand forward and ran a finger across your collarbone, down your chest to your sternum, hooking a finger in the front band and running it along your ribs.
“I bought it just for you. It matches these.” You gestured down and inched your skirt up to reveal black underwear. He smiled slowly eyes staying on them for a second before they moved back up to yours and he smiled.
“Can’t wait to take them off.” He reached down hooking a thumb on either side of them and gave them a tug, pulling them down your legs, hand coming back up your legs to pull one up underneath your knee, and to spread the other one wider, leaning you back as he eased himself into you.
Your head fell back, hair spilling off your shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in. You felt a hand on the back of your neck as Vince pulled you up to kiss him, pushing in and out finding a rhythm. You caught his lip between your teeth, and he gave your hair a small tug, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It truly never got old feeling him inside you and his hands all over you. He brought you to highs you’d never been at before and each time was better than the one before.
He angled his hips upward and hit a spot you didn’t know existed and you cried out, biting down on your lip to stop from making too much noise. A curl at the front of his hair fell across his forehead as he picked up his pace. Your lower back was screaming in pain as it hit repeatedly on the table and you felt your legs begin to tighten and heat explode in your stomach as a crippling orgasm swept from your lower half to your upper half, Vince’s lips at your neck as it shuddered through your body and your vision went spotty. You gave a shaky breath as he slowed his pushes and let his head fall forward, breath hot on your neck. After a moment he picked his head up to look at you.
“You’re amazing.”
You blushed and pushed the curl off his forehead, as he helped you down and handed you your underwear. You gingerly pulled them back up, and took several deep breaths attempting to cool yourself down.
“What are you doing tonight?” He asked reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with yours “Come over after work for a little bit. What time does he get home?”
“6:30. I guess I could for a little bit.”
“Great.” He smiled widely and gave you one last short and sweet kiss before he left the room, making his way back to wherever he was planning to go and you made your way to your office, now tasked with spending the next three hours at your desk having to think about him, and what you would be getting into with him later on.
You sometimes wondered if keeping this thing you had going with him was for the worst rather than the better. How bad would it hurt to rip off the bandaid when it inevitably went south, or had to end due to whatever reasons. And what would happen if he met someone else?
Would you be cast aside? Replaced? A side piece?
You couldn’t handle that. And it wouldn’t be fair, which you knew because it wasn’t fair to him that he was currently a side piece. He didn’t seem bothered, or he was a great actor because he never spoke up about it when you asked and even managed to crack a joke about it here and there for your benefit. But it still wasn’t right. And it wouldn’t be right to drag this out knowing he should have the right to go out and meet girls without having to wonder what would happen with you and him.
You got so absorbed thinking about it, you lost track of time and nearly ended up staying past your clock out time, rushing to get out of the arena and over to Vince’s. He greeted you with his usual “wifey” at the door and pulled you inside.
After your second romp of the day, your breath evened out, you checked your phone and sighed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him.
He shook his head “Don’t say it-“
“Time to go.” you said quietly, sitting upright and grabbing your bra and blouse. You heard him sigh behind you and lean back against the headboard. It was quiet for a while as you hooked the clasp, and pulled the blouse over your shoulders. You hated this part. The afterglow wasn’t even over and you had to leave, go home and play housewife to someone you barely even had conversation with day to day. You’d not been intimate with each other in over a year, since you’d started working for the Kraken, because you were both getting it somewhere else. It felt silly to continue to live a lie.
“I think you should leave your husband.” Vince said off handedly from behind you.
You paused and turned slowly “What?” You said eyes moving up to meet his as you buttoned your blouse.
“You heard me.” He said from his spot on the bed “I said I want you to leave your husband.” He was looking at you straight faced, serious and not joking. He’d made lots of “leave your husband” jokes over the last few months, but he wasn’t kidding this time.
You gaped at him “I-Why?”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes “I think it’s pretty self explanatory. I mean if you really loved him would you even be here?” He gestured around.
He wasn’t wrong. You’d been going over this in your head for months, and you’d come to the conclusion that your husband just wasn’t it.
“Even if I would….Id have to quit for this to go any further.”
Vince pursed his lips “I mean. I can’t ask you to do that, but I do know that you should leave him. And I think you know that too.” He added quietly “I mean even without me in the picture, it wouldn’t be any different.”
He was right.
Part of why you took the job with the Kraken was to fill your time and pull yourself out of being a housewife and hanging out with all his business buddies perfect wives. Working with the Kraken gave you the freedom to do your own thing and be whoever you wanted to be, rather than locked up in that condo.
You nodded “Your right. But what about my job? I can’t be with you and work here.”
“Let’s worry about that another time. I can help you with this.” He reached forward and gripped your hand “I just really want you to be happy.”
You were quiet for a minute, eyes focused on the bedsheet as you realized this could be your one chance to get out of the mess you were in. Your one opportunity to truly change the direction of your life. Maybe things never went forward with Vince, but maybe they did. Even if they didn’t, he had given you the confidence to make changes and leave a guy you didn’t even love, and for that you would always be thankful.
“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.
You looked up and took a deep breath “Do you promise? To help me?”
He nodded eyes lighting up “Yes. So are we really doing this?” He looked so hopeful, leaned forward, eyes bright. It was actually making your heart hurt how beautiful he was at that moment.
You nodded “I think- I think so.”
He smiled the most beautiful, breath taking smile you’d ever seen on him, which you didn’t think was possible because they were all beautiful, but this one was different.
“This is going to change your life I promise you. I’m going to change your life. For the better.”
“You already have.”
He pulled you right back down, kissing you like he never had as you became a tangle mess of limbs and clothes and you felt like things would get better for the first time in a long time.
Maybe being a work wife wasn’t so bad.
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jksprincess10 · 1 year
Note
Hi! I love your stories so much💜
I didn't know if you would write a cute story of pedro and an interviewer (y/n) having a flirty interview and then randomly running into each other later at like the grocery store or something?
Yesss !! Omg ! Please more sweet Pedro ideas like that !!
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CW: implied smut, heavy flirting.
In your years of working as an interviewer for a big magazine, you were never nervous meeting celebrities. Until today. You were meeting the man of the hour, Pedro Pascal. He was totally part of your fantasies every week as you sat down to watch and rewatched The Last of Us.
He had the reputation of being really nice, but what if he found you insufferable? So, you did the most to look at least your best on the outside. You were wearing a chic black jacket, a matching skirt, and a colorful blouse. You sat on the set as you were waiting to meet Pedro, fidgeting nervously with your rings.
Your boss appeared minutes later with Pedro beside him. You got up to shake the star’s hand, trying not to blush. He was wearing a loose cardigan, chic pants, a t-shirt, and his thick black frames were sitting on his nose. He held your hand a little longer as you shook it, lifting it up to look at your colorful nails.
“I love your nail color!” He exclaimed with a smile.
You already felt more at ease.
“Thank you, it’s so nice to meet you.”
You both did the presentations, before you sat down in front of each other for the interview. You went over the questions with him to make sure he was comfortable. Once you were sure everything was okay, the camera started rolling.
“We are here today with the man of the moment, the legend, Pedro Pascal.”
He blushed under the compliment.
“Oh, shush, you’re just staying that.” He laughed.
“No really, we are all obsessed with you, and there is a reason besides your dashing looks. The way you portrayed Joel is amazing. How did you get ready for this role?”
“You’re not bad yourself.” He teased, and you were probably blushing. Thankfully, the camera would focus more on Pedro. “I did have to go in mostly blind, as the producers didn’t want us to play the game. I read the script and discovered an extremely complex character. So, I did try to portray that.”
“You succeeded! With your role as Joel, you had the chance to work with Bella Ramsey, who plays a girl who eventually becomes a daughter to your character. How did your relationship with them evolved as the filming went on?”
“We did become really close. We took care of each other. I miss them every day now!”
“Bella, you better call Pedro!” You said as you pointed at the camera. “I’ll come for you!”
You both erupted in laughter.
“Maybe I shouldn’t threaten a 19 years-old.”
“Maybe not.”
“Anyways! Did you think that the series was well received by the fans of the game?”
“Yes, for the most part. I think we did our best to do justice to the source material, which is already amazing. I feel so loved.” He said as he put a hand on his heart, fake crying.
“You are, definitely!”
You asked all your questions, finishing up by asking what’s next for him.
“I… I don’t know really, I’m open to anything.”
“Hopefully we get a nice and lengthy rom-com with you.” You teased with a smile.
“Are you an actress? You’d make a good love interest.”
“I mean, I can become one for you.”
It seemed like you two were shamelessly flirting. But Pedro was like that with everyone, right? When the camera stopped rolling, you fanned your face with a hand, which made Pedro laugh.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Yes, I survived meeting you. But now, I need you to leave so I can breathe.” You smiled.
Pedro was a busy man, so he did have to leave shortly after. He hugged you as he said he’d see you around.
**
A few days later, after the interview was diffused and people were speculating on who you were, you went grocery shopping as you always did on Mondays. Your trip always finished in the pet’s aisle, where you got litter for your cat.
As you were lifting the box, familiar hands with a messy target tattoo grabbed it for you and dropped it inside your cart. You smiled as you looked up to Pedro.
“Who said I needed help?” You asked.
“Sorry, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you again.” The man shrugged. “Thanks again for the interview, it was really fun.” He took out his phone of his jeans pocket and handed it to you. “I forgot to ask for your number.”
“I thought you were flirting with me just for the camera.” You said as you typed in your phone number. “You put me in trouble with your fans.”
“I was not. Do you… want to go for coffee later, so I can make it up to you?”
“Yes. I’d love to, Pedro.” You smiled so hard, it hurt your cheeks.
“I’ll text you the deets.”
**
You met at a café that was opened pretty late. It was a cozy place that Pedro suggested, where you would be mostly left alone. When you went inside, you easily found him, already sitting at a small table with two mugs.
You sat in front of him with a wide smile. Your hands laid on your jeans-covered thighs, so he wouldn’t see how much you were shaking.
“Please, don’t tell me you got me 6 shots of expresso.”
His brows shot up as he looked at you with a surprised expression.
“Well, hello to you too. It’s a cafe latte. And how do you know so much about me?”
“Had to do my research before our interview.” You lied, not wanting to look a fangirl who totally had that particular tiktok edit saved in your phone. “Thanks for the coffee.”
You took a sip of the warm beverage.
“No problem. So, I’m guessing you have a cat? Or 10?”
“No, it’s for my own toilet.” You rolled your eyes with a smile, and the actor laughed with you.
The conversation flowed between you two very easily, like you were old friends meeting. You talked over coffee until very late.
“I’ll accompany you to your place, if you want.” Pedro said as you two crossed the door of the café. “New York at night can be pretty shitty.”
You surely had your fair share of experiences walking late at night and being harassed by strangers.
“I appreciate it.” You thanked him. Mentally, you were trying to remember if your apartment was messy.
He stayed with you for the subway ride and even accompanied you to your door.
“You… want to come in?” You unlocked your door with trembling hands.
“Sure.” He agreed, trying to sound as laid back as possible, like he wasn’t waiting for you to ask this exact question.
Once the door was closed behind you, you couldn’t resist but grabbing onto his t-shirt to bring him closer. Pedro smirked as he looked down at your lips, before you leaned in to kiss him.
“You made me have too much coffee, so I won’t sleep tonight. Wanna help with that?” You asked against his lips, grinning.
“Gladly.”
You walked backwards to your bedroom as you kept pulling on his shirt, not keeping your lips to yourself.
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corroded-hellfire · 1 year
Text
Where The Heart Is, Part 2 - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: After meeting Eddie over Thanksgiving break, the two of you only want to become closer with one another. You can read part one here.
Note: The response I got to the first part of this truly blew me away. I never expected so many people to leave comments or send me messages, and I just want you all to know how much it means to me. I wasn’t sure if I would continue it or not, because part of me liked where I ended it, but after so many requests, I decided to go further with these two. I have to thank @munson-blurbs​ for helping me the many times I got writer’s block!
Warnings: phone sex, smut, p in v, oral f! receiving, mentions of trauma, mentions of bad family life, general upside down-related unpleasantness 
Words: 17.9k (Whoa.)
[Part 3 | Where The Heart Is masterlist]
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The first thing you do when you see your roommate walk into your dorm after returning from Thanksgiving break is tell her to not ignore the phone if it rings. She gives you a funny look, like you’re weird for assuming she’d ignore it at all. But you know her, and if she doesn’t feel like doing something, she won’t. That includes answering the phone. 
“Who’s calling you?” she asks. Shelby has a talent for making basic questions sound like insults. Though you have to concede that it is true that no one has ever called you before.
“His name is Eddie.”
Suddenly, she’s interested.
“A boy?” she asks, yet again making it sound like an offensive question. 
“Yeah, a boy,” you say. You’re putting the last of your clothes away that you’d brought with you to Hawkins and with each piece you touch, a memory of what you did in it comes to mind. A smile grows on your lips as you pick up the blue sweater you wore when you met Eddie. The soft material gets a small squeeze in your hand before you hang it up.
“You met a guy in Iowa?” Shelby asks as she tosses her suitcase on her bed.
“Indiana,” you correct her. “Yeah, one of Nancy’s friends.”
“And he’s going to call you?”
“Yes,” you say as you roll your eyes, head in your closet. “We really hit it off.”
“Huh,” Shelby muses and you have the urge to strangle her with the pair of tights you just picked up. 
Luckily, Shelby decides to stay with her boyfriend in his room for the night, so you can rest from your trip in peace. When the night passes by without Eddie calling, you’re a little disappointed, but also understand because you just saw him this morning. Maybe you were becoming a little obsessed. You sprawl out flat on your back on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Why is this how it goes? You don’t have feelings for a guy in what feels like forever, then you get hit harder than you could’ve ever possibly imagined you could fall for someone. Thoughts start spinning around your head too loudly for you to possibly get some sleep, so you grab your Walkman from your desk and settle in under your blankets. When you press play, the sound of Queen fills your ears, and you end up falling asleep with an easy smile on your lips. 
Alarm startling you awake, noise no longer coming from your headphones since the tape had finished during the night, you jump and clutch at your sheets. Letting the adrenaline that’s surging through your veins abate, you lay back and throw an arm over your eyes. Afraid of falling back to sleep, you push yourself up and start to get ready. You take care to layer up, knowing the biting cold waiting for you once you step outside. Though your black coat looks good when you inspect yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think Eddie’s leather jacket would look even better. 
A gentle snow falls down as you step out of your dorm building, but the harsh wind blows the flakes so fast they sting as they hit your face. You pull your scarf up over your mouth and nose as you make the trek to the English building. As far as early morning Monday classes go, there were far worse ones to have than English. 
You’ve finished reading the book you were assigned for the class far ahead of schedule, so the discussion doesn’t hold your attention since everyone is behind you and discussing plot points you already know the resolutions to. Your mind drifts and starts with pleasant thoughts of Eddie, but eventually your own insecurities chime in and make you wonder if he meant it at all when he said he’d call you. Were you dumb for believing him? Did he just want to have a girl to make out with over Thanksgiving and you’d fit the bill? 
It’s still going through your mind when you join Nancy for lunch before your last class of the day, which you share with your friend. 
“Can I ask you something?” you ask as you sit down across from her in the dining hall.
“You know you can.” She shoots you a smile before taking a bite of her sandwich. 
You scratch your nail across your napkin, watching your finger leave holes in its wake. It’s easier for you not to meet her eyes as you speak.
“Did Eddie really like me? Or was I being dumb?”
Nancy stops chewing and lets her sandwich fall back to the plate.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
Your eyes glance up at her before looking into your cup of soda. 
“I mean, like, does he treat all girls like this? Am I stupid for thinking I’m special?”
“Look at me.” When you don’t, she reaches over and taps your wrist. “Look. At. Me.” You tilt your head up and meet her eyes. She looks like she wants to throttle you and it makes you shrink under her gaze. “You really think I’d play a part in something that wasn’t real? You think I’d just let him come over in the middle of the night or that I wouldn’t stop him from flirting with you so much if I knew he was just treating you like he treats other girls?” 
Shame fills you as you drop your eyes and shake your head. You hadn’t thought about it that way, caught up in your own head and your own insecurities. But Nancy was nothing if not a good friend and she deserved better than to be thought of like that.
“I’m sorry, Nancy, it’s not what I meant,” you say. “You’re right, you would never do anything like that. Ever. I guess I’m just second guessing myself now that I’m back in reality. It kind of feels like Eddie was just some dream I came up with.”
Nancy sighs and picks her sandwich up again. She takes another bite and swallows it before she speaks.
“I get it,” she says. “When I first came here and left Steve back home, I had a hundred negative thoughts running through my mind. And we’ve got years of history and I know you and Eddie only had a few days. Look, I know I told you that I’ve never seen you the way I saw you with Eddie. But I guess I didn’t tell you that I’ve never seen him like that either. Now, to be fair, I haven’t known him well for very long. But when you go through the kind of shit we went through together you do get to know someone well quickly. And as for other girls? I’ve never even heard him talk about a girl before.”
“Oh, come on,” you say with a little laugh. “Look at him. Like he’s never had a girl before?”
“I never said he never had a girl,” Nancy says, shaking her head. “But I’ve never heard him talk about one before. And Eddie is not the kind of guy to play girls. If he tells you he cares about you, he means it. He’s very sincere. Too honest sometimes, if I'm being truthful.”
The smile that comes to your face is involuntary and you try to hide it by taking a sip of your drink. Nancy sees it anyway, but decides not to comment on it, but smiles to herself. You go to take a bite of your mashed potatoes but have to ask one more question first. 
“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you? Getting so attached so quickly?”
Nancy shakes her head as she swallows the bite of food currently in her mouth.
“You’re not crazy at all. If you two were talking about going off to Vegas and eloping, I’d be worried. But giving him your phone number? Hardly something drastic to do when you like a guy.” 
“I feel crazy,” you admit with a laugh. You drop your fork and rub your hands over your face. 
“It is kind of fun for me.” Your friend smirks at you and raises an eyebrow. “Seeing you all riled up like this. So unlike you.”
“It’s why I feel crazy!”
Nancy laughs. “Oh, you’re fine.”
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The first day back to classes wears you out. You drag yourself back to your dorm after dinner and collapse on your bed. The winter sun setting earlier in the day makes you want to curl up in bed and call it a night. But your clock tells you it’s only a little after seven.
“I don’t want to be productive,” you mumble into your pillow. 
You kick your boots off and force yourself up to switch your things out of your backpack for your classes tomorrow. If you went to bed without doing it, you know you’d end up forgetting in the morning. Luckily, Shelby hasn’t come back to your room so far, but you know it’s only a matter of time. 
The phone rings and your textbook slips out of your hand, landing on the tile floor with a loud thud. You trip over it on the way to the shelf between your and Shelby’s beds, snatching the phone up.
“Hello?” you ask.
“Hey.”
Your body practically drops to the floor in relief, grinning to yourself as you sit with your back against the wall and tuck your legs up against your body.
“You sound scared,” you say with a giggle.
Eddie laughs and the sound sends butterflies throughout your body.
“I was scared I was going to get the bitchy roommate!”
“Just me, unfortunately.”
“Bite your tongue,” he says. “You’re the only person I’ve wanted to talk to since we said goodbye at the airport.”
If Shelby were there, she would make fun of you for the rest of the semester for the dopey grin on your face. 
“Actually,” Eddie admits, and his voice has gotten quieter. “I wanted to call you last night, but I thought that’d be kind of clingy of me.”
“Honestly? When I was lying in bed last night, I wished you would call.” 
“Aw shit, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “You sound just about as lovesick as I am.”
“Lovesick,” you repeat. “That’s a good word for it.” 
You hear a breath of laughter on the other end of the line, and you close your eyes to picture what him laughing looks like. His eyes crinkle in the corners and all his bright teeth gleam in happiness. 
“How was your first day back?” he asks.
“Exhausting,” you say. “But it’s much better now.”
Eddie groans and the sound should worry you, but it sends heat running south in your body instead. 
“You talk all sweet like that and I’m gonna miss you even more,” he says. 
Your socked feet tap up and down on the floor in glee and you wrap your arm around your knees. 
“Harder to miss me if you’re talking to me,” you say.
“I’m closing my eyes and pretending you’re here next to me.”
“Eddie,” you say with a dreamy sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Me? Be the death of you?” He sounds exasperated by the very idea. 
“I said what I said.”
Eddie laughs and it solidifies itself as your official favorite sound in the world. 
“Do I sound too desperate if I say I want to call you every night?” Eddie asks.
“No more desperate than me,” you say. “But you should go out and have fun with your friends, too.”
“Yeah, I s’pose the Hellfire guys would be kind of pissed if I just stopped showing up,” he says. 
“Mhmm,” you hum. “As much as I want to steal you, I don’t think that’d be very fair.”
“Oh princess, you have my full permission to steal me anytime you want to.”
The nickname quickens your heart rate and a buzz tingles down your limbs. 
The doorknob to your room turns and you must let out a groan because Eddie asks you what’s wrong. 
“Bitch incoming,” you whisper just before the door opens. 
Shelby strolls in and gives you a dirty look for sitting on the floor. You choose to ignore her and close your eyes to focus on your conversation.
“Tell her I said she better be nice to you,” Eddie says.
“I don’t think that would work,” you answer.
“Have Nancy kick her ass.”
You laugh and rest your forehead down on your knees.
“She’s tiny but she definitely could,” you say.
“I have homework to do,” Shelby says as she slams a textbook down on her desk. 
Eddie must be able to hear her because he scoffs in your ear.
“What crawled up her ass and died?” he asks.
“I can think of a lot of things,” you mumble, and it makes him laugh. 
“I don’t want to cause any problems,” Eddie says. “How about I call you tomorrow night, hmm? I get off work at six - uh, that’s seven there. So, I’ll call when I get home?”
“Promise?” you ask. 
“Cross my heart, gorgeous.”
“Okay,” you say. “I guess I’ll talk to you then.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Eddie.”
 During the next phone call, you make sure to get Eddie’s number so the burden doesn’t always fall on him to call. But no matter who is calling who, you manage to talk to each other at least four days a week. It’s usually more, but sometimes it’s not as often as you’d both like because Eddie has Hellfire or you have a meeting with your baking club, which Nancy had encouraged you to join earlier in the semester. You’d always enjoyed baking, but never got a chance to properly try it out, but with her encouragement, you signed up. 
A week to go before Christmas break, Shelby has thankfully gone to spend the night with her boyfriend again, so you have the room to yourself the whole night to talk with Eddie. There hasn’t been a Friday night you’ve both been able to stay up late together since Eddie’s had to work Saturday mornings the last few weeks. Most students from your floor were out at bars, clubs, or somewhere else you wouldn’t want to be caught dead at, but you knew for a fact that Nancy was in the same position as you - curled up in your bed, wearing your comfiest clothes - and talking to her boyfriend at the other end of the hall. 
“Okay,” Eddie says once you’ve been on the phone for a little over two hours. “There’s something I want to ask you.”
“Alright,” you say, tugging your blanket up to your chin in the cool dorm. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Eddie starts. There’s a hitch in his voice and you realize this is the first time you’ve heard him sound a little nervous. “You can totally say no. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or trying to make you feel like you have to, o-or…”
“Eddie,” you cut him off with a laugh. “What is it?”
He takes a deep breath and your tummy buzzes in anticipation. 
“I was wondering if you’d want to come visit for Christmas, maybe?” His voice kept getting higher the further along in the question he got. 
“Oh, Eddie, I’d love to,” you say. The smile on your face is so wide it’s hurting your cheeks. “But I don’t want to just assume I’m welcome back at Nancy’s house.”
“Oh, no, no!” Eddie says. “I meant like…do you want to come stay with me?”
The breath catches in your chest and your mouth freezes, unable to form words. Somehow, the breath dislodges itself and you huff what sounds like between a sigh and a laugh.
“You want me to come stay with you?” you ask.                  
“I sure do.” He says it with such confidence that it makes your eyes water. “Wayne wants to meet you real bad. He said he’s heard enough about you that he feels like he knows you already.”
“Aww, do you talk about me?” you can’t help but tease him despite the strong stinging blush on your cheeks.
“Every chance I get,” Eddie says.
“You really are the sweetest,” you say with a content sigh.
“Does that mean you’ll come?” he asks, voice hiking up in hopefulness. 
“Well, I have to go home to see my niece, but I’m seeing her next week,” you say.
“You’re leaving on Friday, right?” Eddie double checks. “Right after your last exam?”
“I am,” you say. Your eyes scan around your dorm room, half packed up with things you’re taking back with you to New Hampshire next week. “And I’m seeing my sister and niece on Tuesday and Wednesday. But after that? If you really want me to, I’d love to come for Christmas.”
“Oh, thank God,” Eddie lets out in a rush. “Because I miss you so much.”
You grin to yourself and curl up on your side. 
“I miss you too,” you tell him quietly. 
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that sends a shiver up your spine.
“Yeah,” you say, voice going lower. 
“Mmm,” Eddie hums and your thighs clench together at the sound. “How much?”
“So much,” you tell him as you roll onto your back. “So much it hurts.”
“Hurts where, baby?” The pitch of his voice lowering makes you bite your lip and slide a hand down your chest. God, you hope this is going where you think it’s going.
“My heart,” you start off. “And…other places.”
Eddie’s groan gives you the last hint of motivation you need to slip your hand down your sweatpants. 
“What places, baby?”
The nickname has you slipping your hand into your panties as well. 
“Gonna make me say it?” you ask, breath becoming labored. There’s material rustling on the other end of the phone and the thought of Eddie in the same position as you has you arching your back. 
“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, his own breaths coming quicker. “Wanna hear you.”
“Fuck,” you moan out softly as you start to slide your fingers through your folds. You’d touched yourself countless times since coming home from Indiana, but never while talking to Eddie.
“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Eddie asks. His voice is rough and ragged, and it only makes you wetter. 
“Got my hand down my panties,” you tell him, cheeks burning at the admission.
He lets out a moan as your middle finger rubs right over your clit, the combination leading you to moan out as well.
“What’re y-you doing?” you ask once you’ve slightly recovered. 
“Dick in my hand,” Eddie stutters out. 
“Wish I was there to see,” you tell him, and he chokes on a laugh.
“Fuck, me too, baby,” he says. “What else would you do if you were here?”
The nastiest thoughts flash through your mind and, surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to hide them from Eddie. He makes you feel at ease, even stepping out of your comfort zone like this.
“Shit, I’d lick you from base to tip.” The small noises coming from the back of Eddie’s throat encourage you. “I’m not sure how good of a gag reflex I have but I’d let you test that out on me as much as you’d like. Over and over. And I’d swallow every last drop you gave me. Fuck, bet you have a pretty dick.”
“Not as pretty as your pussy must be, baby,” he answers.
You bite your lip and let out a whimper. The sound of Eddie’s slick hand working over himself comes through the phone and you slip a finger inside of yourself. 
“Bet you taste fucking perfect, too,” Eddie adds, and your hips canter off the mattress. 
“What would you do if I was there?” you ask. “Taste me?”
“Oh, fuck, yes. Shit, I’d devour you like you were my last meal. How would you want me to touch you, baby? Tell me.”
“Everywhere,” you whine out with a pathetic moan. “I want your hands all over my body. Maybe squeeze at my tits as you go down on me. Would you like that?”
The growl you get in response tells you that he would. 
“Hell yes, baby. Shit. Bet you’re so tight. First, so tight around my tongue and fingers. Then my cock. Squeezing me so well. Like a good fucking girl.”
“God, you’re killing me,” you say with a breathy laugh, working your middle finger in and out of your pussy. 
“Feeling’s mutual, princess,” Eddie groans out. “Rub your clit for me, baby?”
You don’t need to be told twice. You slip your finger out of your drenched core and run it over your clit, applying the perfect pressure as you rub back and forth.
“I-I am,” you whimper. 
The sounds of Eddie’s heavy breaths and fist gliding over his cock keep you company as you work yourself closer to the edge. Sweat is making your sweatshirt stick to your stomach and rub against your sensitive nipples, but you can’t bring yourself to take your other hand off the phone to take it off. Eddie’s sounds are addicting, and you don’t want to miss a second of them. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” Eddie whines.
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh,” he says. “Was half hard the moment I heard your voice.” 
His words make you moan and rub tighter circles over your throbbing clit. 
“Eddie,” you whine.
“Gonna make me cum even faster, gorgeous,” he says. 
“Do it,” you sigh out. “Want to cum with you.”
“Close, princess?”
“Uh huh.”
“Come on, baby,” Eddie says. “Fuck, can’t wait to do this in person.”
“Shit, Eddie,” you cry out at his words. “M’gonna cum.”
“Let go, sweetheart,” he moans. 
You cry out as your back arches off the bed, orgasm overtaking you. Eddie’s groan and whimper from the other end of the phone lets you know he’s cumming too, and the image has you rubbing your clit even quicker to milk your orgasm out. 
Breaths coming out in heavy pants, your body collapses back against the bed. You giggle to yourself when you hear Eddie breathing the same way that you are. 
“Still with me?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says between breaths. “Fuck, that was good.” 
“Oh yeah,” you agree. Using the back of your wrist, you wipe some sweat off your forehead as you cuddle back against your pillow. “Now, what was that about doing this in person?”
“Huh?” Eddie asks, breath and voice slowly returning to normal. “Shit, I didn’t mean to-.”
“Eddie!” You laugh as he starts to ramble. “I was going to say I was looking forward to it.”
“Oh.” Relief is evident in his voice. He lets out an awkward chuckle and you can hear fabric rustling from his end. You imagine him tucking himself back in his pants and you lick over your lips. “Well, I mean, we don’t have a guest room. So, if you’re gonna be staying here you’ve only got the one option.”
You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and you close your eyes to picture it. His hair is probably all messy over his pillow with sweat making a few pieces stick to his forehead. 
“Slumber party, huh?” 
“Only if you want, baby,” Eddie says. “I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”
“I know that,” you assure him. “I guess I should tell you something, though.”
“Anything, sweetheart. You know that.”
After what the two of you just did together you should not be feeling nervous with him. But you can’t help it as your thumb comes up to your mouth and you gnash your teeth against the corner of your nail. 
“What we just did is the farthest I’ve ever gone,” you tell him. “I’m a virgin, Eddie.”
“Oh, is that all?” Eddie says and you feel your heart relax. 
“I didn’t think you’d care,” you get out in a rush. “Just can be a weird topic to talk about.”
“That’s true,” Eddie says. “So, it’s good you brought it up, because now I can tell you that I’m a virgin too.”
“Really?” you say before thinking better of it. You squeeze your eyes closed because you can’t imagine how that must’ve sounded. “I-I just mean I’m surprised because you’re like…ridiculously hot. And I have a hard time believing girls wouldn’t throw themselves at you. Especially at your shows.”
Eddie laughs and it’s both genuine and self-deprecating. 
“You flatter me, baby,” he says. “But our shows usually consisted of an audience of half a dozen barflies until I met Nancy and the crew.”
“No groupies?” you ask.
“Not a one.”
“Well,” you say with a shrug, even though Eddie can’t see you. “I’d be happy to be a Corroded Coffin groupie.” 
“Is that so?” he muses. 
“Please, sir?” You bite your lip at the blush clinging to your face as you utter the words.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans and it turns into a chuckle. “You say shit like that we’re going to have to go another round.”
“Isn’t my job as a groupie to tease you?” The innocent tone of your voice isn’t lost on you nor Eddie.
“You’re really good at it already.”
Giggling, you sit up in your bed and hug your knees to your chest.
“Not to change the subject, but I’m going to before I get distracted too,” you say. “If I’m going to be there for Christmas, I’m going to have to get on buying a present for my secret Santa. Think you could give me a few ideas?”
“Sure thing, princess,” Eddie says. “Who’d you get?”
“Max,” you tell him. 
“Oh, Red’s pretty easy. She likes comics, especially Wonder Woman. She skateboards. Uh, what else? Big Kate Bush fan.”
“What about clothes?” you ask. “Jewelry?”
“Shit, I wouldn’t be able to help you out with those. She doesn’t really wear jewelry and I couldn’t even tell you what kind of clothes she wears, really. Never paid attention.”
“Hmm, okay,” you hum as you slip your feet further under your blankets. “I’ll keep all that in mind. Now, who’d you get?”
“Robin,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I have no clue what to get her.” 
“If you’re still stuck when I get there, we could always go shopping together?”
“I am the worst shopper in the history of the world,” Eddie groans. “I’d love to have you with me. I’ll hold your hand and buy you hot chocolate.”
You duck your head with a bashful laugh.
“Sold.” 
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Finals week was always hell, but you had to admit, the thought of seeing Eddie soon helped ease the pain a bit. You and Nancy spent most evenings held up in whoever’s room was free of its roommate, pouring over notes, shuffling flash cards, and quizzing each other back and forth. It pays off, the both of you feeling pretty confident once all tests are said and done. 
Nancy gives you a hug and tells you she’ll see you in a week before she catches her ride to the airport. Unfortunately, Shelby wasn’t leaving for break until the day after you, so you were forced to share the room until you’re able to get in your car and go. 
Once you do though, you realize it wasn’t really anything to look forward to. You’d either be arriving at an empty apartment, or one where your mother was. You’re not sure which is worse. Just as you’re about to pull your car onto the highway and out of Boston though, a store catches your eye, and you make a U-turn to get a closer look.
You park your car and smile to yourself as you see the custom skateboards on display in the windows. Inside the store, the boards are even nicer. The decks are all hand painted, the clerk tells you, and you’re amazed at the talent as you take in all the vibrant and beautiful works. One in particular catches your eye and you know you’ve found the right present. 
 The apartment is silent when you arrive home. The only noises are from the surrounding tenant’s homes. There’s Christmas music playing somewhere a few doors down and someone on the floor above you has their shower running. The smell of stale air wafts through the rooms and you wonder when the last time your mom cracked a window was. 
You drag your suitcase to your small room in the corner of the apartment and flop down on your twin-sized bed. It smells just as stale as the air, so you get up and decide to throw your blankets and some clothes from your closet into the laundry.
It’s well after dark when your mom arrives home, and if you were expecting to be greeted with excitement, you were wrong. Luckily, experience had taught you not to hold your breath on that. A hug hello, some vague questions about school, then she’s off to bed. Not that you mind at all. In fact, you decide to get comfortable in your bed of clean sheets and try to get some sleep yourself. Burying your face in your pillow, you inhale the clean scent of the detergent you used. It’s a nice smell, but it gives you an even better idea. You roll onto your back and smile to yourself as you stare up at the ceiling. Eddie may not be your boyfriend, but you doubt he’d care if you borrowed a t-shirt or sweatshirt to bring back with you when school starts again. The thought of having something you could hold in your dorm bed that belongs to Eddie, his scent all over it, makes you giddy, and you let out a short giggle into the dark room.
The day you get to spend with your niece is by far the best day you have at home in New Hampshire. She’s the sweetest seven-year-old you’ve ever met in your life and the fact that she adores you warms your heart. Chloe is by far your favorite relative, even though that wasn’t a very high bar to begin with. The princess dress you gave her lit up her face in a way that brought tears to your eyes. Her hug was bone-crushing for such a small child, and you took advantage of every second of it. The only reason you don’t cry as you say goodbye to her and your sister is because you know you’re seeing Eddie very soon. 
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Chloe had asked you as you tossed your bag into your car. You sat down sideways in the driver’s seat and pulled her over to hold her tiny hands in your own.
“I’m going to see a friend for Christmas,” you told her.
“Who?”
“His name is Eddie.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Her face wrinkled up in an adorable and excited seven-year-old fashion. It made you laugh, and you pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Maybe.” He wasn’t technically, but you weren’t about to explain the complexities to her. Plus, after your upcoming trip, he might be. 
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The escalator leading down to the baggage claim level in the Indianapolis airport moves far too slowly for your liking. Everyone else seems content with the pace, but you’re practically buzzing with nervous energy. The family in front of you can’t move fast enough out of your way as they step off, leaving you irritated as you try to navigate your way around them. You manage to get clear of the crowd without smacking anyone with your backpack and make your way over to where Eddie will be waiting. 
“Excuse me, miss,” you hear from behind you. “But I can’t help but notice how devastatingly gorgeous you are.” The smile on your face as you turn around at the familiar voice is so wide it feels like it’s going to fall off your face. “Do you think I could interest you in spending Christmas with me?”
Eddie’s grin matches your own and you fling yourself in his arms. He catches you with a joyful laugh, managing to slip his hands under your backpack so he can lift you up. A squeal leaves your lips as you wrap your legs around his adorably tiny waist, and the two of you squeeze one another so hard you’re surprised you don’t meld into one body. 
“I missed you so much,” Eddie mumbles into your hair.
“I missed you, too,” you say. You pull back to look at him, infectious grin still on his face as he holds you. Taking his face between your hands, you press a firm kiss on his lips. He chuckles against your mouth, and you press a few more quick pecks to his lips before you unwrap your legs from his body. He sets you down and you bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 
“How are you even more beautiful than I remember?” Eddie asks as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I guess the same way that you’re even more handsome than I remember,” you answer. 
Eddie rests his forehead against yours and gives your lips one more peck. He slips his hand into yours and you lace your fingers together. 
“Let's go get your bag,” Eddie says.
Gentlemanly as ever, Eddie carries your bags to his van and loads them in the back. Before he lets you get in though, he takes advantage of the empty parking garage around you and gently presses you up against the passenger door. The devilish smirk he sends you makes your tummy buzz and your toes curl in your boots. He leans in and presses his lips against yours in a searing kiss, knocking the breath from your lungs. Your arms come up to wind around his neck, fingers coming up to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. His tongue licks across your top lip and you gladly open them to him. The van is cold against your back, but Eddie’s warming you up plenty. His hands rest on your hips, thumbs rubbing up against the soft material of your coat. You never knew a gray concrete parking garage could be so romantic. 
On the ride to Eddie’s, neither of you shuts up. If someone had told you that you’d meet someone who you would talk to on the phone for hours at a time multiple days a week, but still find things to talk about all the time, you wouldn’t have believed them. But there were never silences, let alone awkward ones, with Eddie. As you got closer to his place you actually had a twenty-minute conversation about the shoes Eddie was wearing. 
“Shit, I forgot to ask you,” Eddie says, suddenly seeming a little nervous. “Nancy and Steve want to have lunch with us tomorrow afternoon. That okay with you?”
“Of course,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem relaxed by your answer, so you reach over and put your hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says with a nod, but you’re not convinced. 
“What, are you nervous to go on a double date?” you ask with a chuckle.
He smiles over at you and reaches up to grab the hand you placed on him. He gives it a squeeze before putting it back on the wheel.
“Never nervous to spend time with you, baby. Oh, I should tell you,” Eddie says as you drive past the sign welcoming you to Hawkins. “Wayne took the night off from work tonight. He wants to have dinner with you, it being your first day here and all.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” you say, smiling over at him. 
“It’ll probably be pizza, nothing fancy,” Eddie says with a shrug.
“Pizza is better than fancy every time, Eddie. Duh,” you say. “I’m kind of nervous to meet your uncle though, to be honest.”
Eddie lets out a laugh and shakes his head. 
“Nervous to meet Wayne? Oh sweetheart, trust me, nothing to be nervous about. He likes to act like a hardass with me, but he’s a teddy bear deep down.”
“Okay,” you say, and take a deep breath.
Eddie’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.
“It does mean though…” he trails off and you look at him in concern.
“What? What’s wrong?” you ask.
“I mean, with Wayne there I don’t really think we should, ya know-.”
You cut him off with a laugh and shake your head. 
“Eddie, baby,” you say, and you notice him flush at the nickname. “I’m going to be here for a while. We have plenty of time for all that fun stuff. A lot of it.”
Eddie groans and gently bangs his head against his headrest.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he says through a chuckle. 
“Oh yeah?” Your voice hikes up at the end and Eddie clocks the way you adjust your crossed legs, thighs squeezing closer together.
“Been half hard since I saw you,” he admits, cheeks turning even darker. 
“I mean, I could help you with that,” you say, cheeks flaming red yourself. 
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” You blush even redder at how quickly you replied. “You’ll need to tell me what to do, though. Like, h-how you like it. I’ve never done this before.”
“Shit, baby,” Eddie says, and you squeeze your legs together even tighter at the endearment. “I doubt you could do anything I wouldn’t like. But yeah, I’ll talk you through it.” 
Eddie pulls the van up to a red light and you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over closer to him. Your hand goes to reach for his zipper when the van is jerked from behind. Eddie immediately reaches out to grab you since you’re not wearing your seatbelt, and he curses under his breath as the vehicle gently rocks back and forth from the hit.
“Someone hit the van?” You’re almost positive that’s what happened, but your head was a bit dazed from thoughts of what you were about to do. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says as he puts the van in park. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say as you get back in your seat. “Are you?”
“Fine. Just pissed.” Eddie sighs before he opens the driver’s door. “I’ll be right back. You stay nice and warm in here, princess.”
Eddie slams the door behind him and after a few moments you hear him yell, “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
You open the passenger side door and hop out, closing it behind you and heading to the back of the van to see what was wrong. You’re expecting horrible damage, injured people, or Eddie getting ready to kick someone’s ass. But what you see makes you laugh, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound.
The curly-haired boy you met last month, Dustin, is getting out of the car behind the van, a grimace on his face, looking paler than you remember. An older man gets out of the passenger side with a clipboard and your eyes trail to the top of the car where there’s a red sign that says, “Student Driver.”
“Shit, Eddie,” Dustin says. “I’m so sorry. I got excited when I saw your van and then I forgot which pedal was which and I just…oh!”
Dustin sees you and grins. You chuckle and send him a small wave, but Eddie is still glaring at him.
“Are you okay?” the driving instructor asks. 
“Fine,” Eddie says, eyes not leaving Dustin. The boy shrinks under his gaze. 
“Are you okay, Dustin?” you ask.
“I’m fine.”
“For now,” Eddie growls out. 
You inspect the back of the van, but you don’t see a single scratch. Dustin’s lucky. Whoever pays his bills is lucky too because you doubt the driving school would have taken any damage lightly. 
“Should we call the police?” the instructor asks but Eddie waves him off.
“It’s fine,” Eddie says. He puts his hands on his hips and sighs. You walk over to him and put your hand on his back, rubbing gently, and it seems to calm him. 
“I’m so sorry,” Dustin says but Eddie shakes his head at the boy.
“He’ll forgive you,” you assure Dustin. “He’s just a little worked up.”
How you manage not to smirk at your double entendre, you don’t know. Eddie huffs out a chuckle though and nods his head.
“Everyone’s okay,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Plus, I know you’ll make it up to me, Henderson.”
“How?” Dustin asks.
“That’s up to you,” Eddie calls to him as he turns back towards the van, slinging his arm over your shoulders. You giggle and bury your head in Eddie’s neck as he walks you back to your door. 
“Bye, Dustin!” you shout as Eddie opens the passenger door for you.
The echo of Dustin’s responding goodbye is cut off when Eddie shuts the door. He climbs in the driver’s side and lets out a mixture of a groan and a sigh as he puts the car in drive.
“I love him,” you tell Eddie as he continues down the road. 
“He’s a pain in the ass,” Eddie says, but there’s a fond smile on his face. 
There’s a sign that comes into view that announces Forest Hills trailer park is half a mile up the road. Despite Eddie’s reassurance earlier, you start to feel the knot of anxiety in your stomach again. The only family in Eddie’s life is Wayne, so what would happen if he didn’t like you? A large hand comes over to cover yours and you realize you have been fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. Eddie’s thumb rubs over your hand and you shoot him a grateful smile.
Eddie pulls the van into the trailer park, and you look around, taking in his neighborhood.
“It’s a trailer park,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Not much to look at.”
“This is where you live. What you see every day,” you say. “I’m interested.”
He smiles to himself as you crane your neck to take in everything. Eddie isn’t sure he’s ever had someone interested in his life like this before. Certainly there wasn’t anyone who was ever nervous about meeting his uncle. The thought of someone being nervous to meet Wayne was truly hilarious to him.
The van parks in front of the trailer and Eddie’s stomach drops as he sees you frown at the small dwelling. You’d known all along he lives in a trailer, but is it even worse than you imagined? Is it too small? Too dirty? Eddie licks over his lips and runs his hands over the steering wheel just to do something with his nervous energy.
“You don’t have any Christmas lights up,” you say, turning to face him.
Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief and a smile comes to his face.
“I guess we don’t,” he says. “I don’t think we own any, actually.”
He lets out a laugh at your affronted face and leans over to press a kiss to your cheek.
“You’re so cute,” he says.
“Don’t try to sweet talk your way out of decorations, mister.” But you can’t help but smile at his actions. 
“How about we go to the store tomorrow? You can pick out what you think looks best.”
“Wait. Are you telling me you don’t have decorations inside either?”
“We do not.”
“What about a tree?”
Eddie grimaces and your jaw drops open.
“Eddie! No tree?”
“Okay, I was planning on getting one,” he says, holding his hands up in defense. “Just haven’t yet. I usually pick up whatever’s left on the lot a few days before Christmas.”
“So, a Charlie Brown Christmas tree?” you ask.
“Pretty much,” he says. “Now come on. Let’s get inside where I can show you my room.”
You laugh as Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you. He throws you a wink before he hops out and opens the back door to get your bags. Following him over to the steps, you rub your hands up and down your arms, partially out of coldness and partially out of nerves. Since his hands are full, you reach around and turn the doorknob for him, and he knocks the door all the way open with his hip. Eddie sets your bags down just inside the door and takes your hand in his as you step inside. He closes the door behind you as you look around the living room, taking in the mugs and hats that make up the decor. 
“My favorite mug is the Garfield one,” you tell Eddie.
“Got that when I was six,” he says. He lets go of your hand to wrap both of his arms around you from behind. He rests his chin on your shoulder and you lean back in his embrace. 
“I bet you were an adorable six-year-old,” you say. 
“I looked like little orphan Annie with the curls and all.”
You laugh but it dies in your throat as you hear footsteps coming down the hallway.
“Relax,” Eddie whispers in your ear, giving your waist a squeeze before stepping out from behind you. 
A weathered but friendly looking man steps into the living room and the smile he gives you reminds you of Eddie’s. His blue and black flannel makes you wonder if he and Eddie ever steal each other's clothes.
“Well, you must be the young lady I’ve heard so much about.”
Both you and Eddie blush at his words.
“I guess that’s me,” you say with a shrug. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Oh, please doll, no need to be so formal. Wayne is fine. It’s great to meet you too, though.” He steps forward and offers you his hand, which you shake gladly. Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and Wayne turns his gaze on his nephew.
“What took you so long, boy?”
“Had a little fender bender,” Eddie admits with a sigh. Wayne reaches over and smacks Eddie upside the head, making you cough out a laugh. “Ow, what the hell?”
“Her first day here and you’re already getting in a car accident?”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Eddie protests. 
Wayne huffs and crosses his arms across his chest.
“My apologies then.” He turns to you and leans in conspiratorially. “Boy had to take his driving test three times.”
“Okay, thank you Wayne,” Eddie says, stomping down the hallway, dragging a giggling you behind him. He tugs you into a bedroom at the end of the hall and it’s instantly recognizable as his room. 
You let his hand drop from yours as you walk around, taking in the small space.
“Believe it or not, I cleaned up,” Eddie says, scratching the back of his head.
“I believe you,” you say, shooting him a playful smirk that makes him roll his eyes. You stroll over to the Corroded Coffin banner hanging on the wall and Eddie sidles up beside you.
“I want to see your band play,” you say.
“We haven’t played together since Jeff went off to college.” Eddie tugs you against his side and presses a kiss into your hair. You lay your head on his shoulder with a smile, giddy that he keeps his hands on your every chance he gets. 
“Is he home for Christmas?” you ask.
He pulls back and looks at you, a grin sliding on his face.
“He is. You’re a genius.” He presses another kiss to your head and your cheeks heat up at this one. “Maybe the guys will want a little reunion.”
“Will you play this?” you ask, nodding to the guitar hanging adjacent to where you’re standing. 
“Sure will. She’s my sweetheart.” Your eyebrows pull together in a frown and Eddie coos at you. “Aw, baby. She’s my first sweetheart. You’re my number one sweetheart.”
When you keep frowning Eddie takes his thumb and runs it over the lines on your face. 
“What’s the difference?” you ask. 
“Well, I loved her first and I -.” His face turns beet red, and you can’t help the smile that lights up your face.
“And you what, Eddie?” you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“And I, uh.” Eddie coughs, avoiding your eyes. “I have you as my sweetheart now. I mean, um.”
As adorable as his scrambling is, you can’t take how uncomfortable he looks so you raise yourself up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips. Eddie sighs in relief against your lips and rests his hands on your hips.
“You’re cute when you ramble,” you mumble against his mouth. 
“M’glad,” he mumbles back. “You’re cute all the time.”
The doorbell rings and Eddie rests his forehead against yours.
“That’ll be the pizza,” he says. “On the one hand, I’m hungry. On the other hand, I want our mouths to be busy with different things.”
A flush comes up your body as you pull away from him. 
“Eat first, lots of kissing later,” you tell him. 
Dinner with Wayne and Eddie is nice, and you’re surprised at how funny Wayne is. He tells stories from his younger days, even making Eddie laugh as well, though he’s probably heard these stories so many times he could tell them himself. 
“So,” Wayne says as he wipes his hands off on a napkin. “Eddie tells me you go to college with the Wheeler girl?”
“I do,” you affirm. “Emerson College. I love it, but Boston is very cold right now.”
“I don’t know how much better it is here,” Eddie says, leaning to look out the window, checking for any signs of snow.
“What’re you studying?” Wayne asks.
“Psychology.”
“So, is my nephew your first patient?”
You break out into a fit of giggles and Eddie’s dropped jaw and affronted face makes you laugh even harder. Wayne lets out his own chuckle and shrugs his shoulders.
“I’ve never gotten to embarrass Eddie in front of a girl before. I’m taking full advantage of this,” Wayne says. 
“Aww, Eddie,” you coo, while still laughing, and rest your head on his shoulder.
“I’m going across the street to have dinner with Max,” Eddie says, even as he reaches for another slice of pizza.
“Max lives here?” you ask with a smile. 
“Sure does. She’s a good kid,” Wayne says. “Bit of a mouth on her, but she’s a good kid.”
“I’ll have to say hi when you’re at work one day.” You pout up at Eddie, jutting your lower lip out.
“I got a few days off though,” Eddie says, slipping an arm around you as he shoves the pizza into his mouth. “I’ll only be coming back smelling like oil and gasoline a few days.” 
“Y’all have any plans while you’re here?” Wayne asks.
“Well, I promised we’d get some decorations to make this place look more festive,” Eddie says. “Getting a tree, of course. Anything else you want to do while you’re here?”
“Nothing specific,” you say with a shrug. “Told Nancy I’d see her, of course.”
“Indiana sure ain’t known for being a tourist destination,” Wayne says.
“But I’m here,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. You know he’s joking, but he’s also right. 
“Well, I wouldn’t spend Christmas with just anyone,” you say.
“And we’re glad to have you,” Wayne says. 
“Very,” Eddie adds, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Out of all the films that made up Eddie and Wayne’s small collection, not one was a Christmas movie. Luckily, Frosty the Snowman is on television, followed by How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Wayne reclines in his chair, and you curl up next to Eddie on the couch to watch the animated programs. Eddie’s arm is wrapped snugly around you the whole time, and he pays more attention to the fact that he’s holding you than he does to the storylines. 
As you’re getting ready for bed in the small bathroom, your tummy erupts in an excited sort of nerves at the fact that you’re sharing a bed with Eddie. A rather small bed, too. Part of you is glad it's winter and you’re wearing warm plaid pajama pants and an oversized Boston Bruins t-shirt, because you know you would’ve put pressure on yourself to wear more suggestive items to bed if it were warmer. 
You open the bathroom door, and your socked feet pad down the hall to Eddie’s room, where he’s already lounging, one arm up over his head and the other resting on his stomach. His own plaid pajamas bottoms - black, instead of the pink ones on your bottom half - sitting low on his hips and his gray faded Dio shirt making him look hotter than he had any right to be. He smiles when you walk in and lifts his hips up so he can pull down the blankets for the both of you. There’s a pleasant buzzing sensation in your limbs as you slip into the bed next to him. He automatically wraps his arms around you, and you cuddle into his chest. 
“You’re warm,” you mumble against his shirt.
“You’re hot,” he says, and you break into a giggle, burying your face in his neck. 
You tilt your head up and press a kiss to the underside of Eddie’s chin. 
“What time are we meeting Steve and Nancy tomorrow?” you ask.
Eddie gets that nervous look about him like he did in the van when he originally told you about the plans. 
“They’re going to come here, actually,” he says, running his hand up and down your back. “Bringing food from a diner down the road from Steve that he loves, so prepare for him to bring half the menu.”
“Fine with me.” You run your nose up to behind Eddie’s ear and you feel him shiver under your touch. The echoes from the television drift down the hall and you’re pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping the two of you from jumping one another. 
Eddie reaches behind him to flip the light off and curls back into you, resting his forehead against yours.
“Hi,” he whispers. 
“Hi, you.”
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” you say. “No one I’d rather spend Christmas with.”
“No?” he asks. “Not even your niece?”
“Eh, that means I’d have to spend it with my sister too, though, so no.”
He chuckles and presses his lips against yours.
“No one I’d rather spend it with either,” he says. “But there is something I want to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Well,” he says, and even in the darkness you can tell that his face is getting pink. “I realized that even though we’ve been pretty inseparable since we met, I’ve never even asked you on a date.”
“Eddie,” you giggle his name against his lips. “That is so sweet. But we’ve had phone sex, I came to stay with you for Christmas, and I’m pretty sure we’re losing our virginities to each other real damn soon, so I think we’re a little past that.”
“Okay, fair,” Eddie agrees with a breathy laugh. “What about you being my girlfriend then? Can I ask you about that?”
“You can.” You rub your hands over his chest. “But I’m pretty sure you know what the answer will be.” 
“I hope so.” He pecks your lips again. “But I want to ask anyway.”
“Go ahead then.”
“Be my girlfriend? Like, officially?” 
“Depends,” you say with a smile. “Will you be my boyfriend?” 
He purses his lips and lets out a hum before responding.
“Can I think about it?”
“Fine,” you say with a shrug. You take your hands off him and go to take the covers off of your body. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just go sleep at Nancy’s until you decide.” 
He laughs and wraps his arms around your middle as you go to get up.
“No!” he whines and pulls your body back down against his. Back pressed against his chest, he squeezes you in his arms and presses loud smacking kisses against the back of your neck. “I’ve been yours since I first saw you.”
The grin his words bring to your face makes your cheek muscles ache. 
“I could say the same,” you tell him.
“Shit, how’d I get so lucky?” he whispers into your hair.
“By being so cute, I guess.”
He hums a chuckle and tucks the blankets up around the two of you.
“We should probably try to sleep,” he says. 
“Probably. But I don’t want to.”
“Me neither.”
The sun is almost up by the time you finally fall asleep in his arms. You’re used to hearing his voice right before you sleep from your regular phone calls, but it’s even better having his voice up close and personal right in your ear. Eddie falls asleep soon after you but still wakes up first. 
As consciousness comes drifting back to him, he’s aware there’s something warm in his arms. His brow furrows before the apple scent of your shampoo jogs his memory, and a smile comes to his face as he huddles closer to your warmth. His eyes break open and the smile grows as he sees your sleeping face on the pillow next to his. Your face is so peaceful and calm, and it makes his heart stutter at how beautiful you look. He reaches up and softly strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, his eyes taking in every little detail of your face. There were times that Eddie thought he’d never get a girl to even say yes to going on a date with him, yet here he is, not even a month after meeting you, lying next to the girl he’s positive he’s falling in love with. And he finds it even crazier that you seem to feel the same way about him. 
You start to move in his arms and Eddie stays still so he doesn’t disturb you. His hand drops down to your hip as you turn on your side and snuggle closer to him. He can’t help but press a gentle kiss on your forehead, lips pulled up in a grin against your skin. A hum leaves your throat and Eddie looks down at you at the noise. You blink your eyes open, lashes fluttering as your eyes adjust from sleep. 
“Morning, gorgeous.”
At the sound of Eddie’s voice your head tips up and you meet his gaze. A smile lights up your face and Eddie presses another kiss to your forehead.
“Morning, handsome,” you reply. 
“How’d you sleep?” he asks.
“Good,��� you say with a dreamy sigh. You nuzzle your head into Eddie’s neck, and he wraps you up in his arms. He knows he should get up and get dressed, but he can’t bring himself to get up. It’s partially because he’s dreading the conversation he knows he needs to have with you. If he wants to have sex with you - and Lord knows he does - that means he’s going to have to take his shirt off. You’re the first person Eddie has met whom he’s positive won’t judge him on how gruesome they look. But that doesn’t mean you won’t ask how he got them.
“How’d you sleep?” you ask him and start peppering kisses up his neck.
“Best I ever have, I think,” he says, eyes fluttering closed. A moan slips out his lips and the vibration from the sound travels down his throat and into your lips. “You keep doing that and we’re never getting out of this bed.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” you speak against his skin. 
Eddie agrees, but the knot in his stomach is from nerves as opposed to hormones - though there was definitely some of that too. The thought of you seeing his scars without any warning beforehand is the only thing keeping him from stripping the both of you naked in record time. 
“Baby,” Eddie says, pulling away from your lips. “We should get up and get ready.”
A whine slips out as you bury your face in Eddie’s chest.
“Don’t wanna,” you say.
“Me neither,” Eddie says as he pushes the blankets off the two of you. “But I don’t want Steve coming in here and seeing you in your sexy pajamas.”
You laugh as you look down at your cozy attire, but your cheeks heat up at his words, nonetheless. Eddie slides out of the bed and tugs the blankets all the way off you. He smirks as his cold hands grab at your ankles and pull you down towards the foot of the bed. A squeal leaves your lips as you squirm, trying to escape his freezing fingers.
“Up, baby, up!”
“I’ll get up if you kiss me,” you offer.
“Ugh, if I have to.” He walks over to your side of the bed and leans down, pressing his lips quickly against yours. “Deals a deal, princess.”
With a huff, you climb out of the warm bed and search through your suitcase for some clothes for the day. Once both you and Eddie get dressed, he leads you into the living room and pulls you into his lap on the couch. 
“There’s something I want to tell you,” he says, running one hand up and down your jean clad thigh. 
“What’s up?” you ask as you card one of your hands through his hair. 
He lets out a sigh and licks over his lips, avoiding your eyes. You frown and press a kiss to the top of his head.
“You can tell me anything, sweetheart,” you tell him.
There are tears in his eyes as he looks up at you, but he gives you a grateful smile. 
“Do, um, do you remember the, uh, story Nancy and I told you? About what happened back in March?” He massages his fingers over your thigh, eyes trailing the patterns he’s making. 
“Of course.”
“Well, uh, it was all the truth. But there’s even more to it.”
You tilt his chin up so he’s looking you in the eyes. 
“Eddie, you can tell me.”
“It’s kind of hard to believe,” he says, hand patting your leg nervously. 
“You’ve not lied to me yet,” you say with a shrug. 
With a deep breath, Eddie begins to tell you a story that seems like it was ripped from one of the fantasy novels you love, only much more sinister. A tear escapes his eye and makes its way down his cheek as he recalls his near-death experience with the otherworldly creatures.
“And there were these bats—we called them ‘demobats,’ because of the demogorgon,” he explains, anxiously tapping his fingers along your leg. “I tried to fight them off, tried to buy more time, but they…they got me. Pinned me to the ground and tore out chunks of my skin. Hurt like fuckin’ hell.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “I would’ve been dead if Harrington and Henderson didn’t drag me outta there. Sometimes…sometimes, I wonder if I would’ve been better off dead.” 
The last line is what breaks your heart most of all. Tears were already raining down your face, but at this last admission, you throw your arms around Eddie’s neck and squeeze him so tightly that it has to be uncomfortable for him. 
“No,” you gasp against his neck. “No, don’t ever say that.” 
You feel the emotion get the better of him as his body starts to shake, his own breath hitching as he begins crying in earnest. He clings to you and the pads of his fingers dig into your back as he buries his face in your neck. The two of you cry together, you try to soothe Eddie by rubbing his back and pressing kisses into his hair while doing so. 
“You’re safe now, Eddie,” you whisper to him once your own crying has subsided for the most part. “I’ve got you.”
He nods in recognition of your words, but his tears don’t cease. You just keep holding him, willing to never move from his lap again if it meant you could give him even an ounce of comfort. After a few long minutes, you feel his body relax under your touch. He pulls his head away from your neck and you pull back as well so you can see his face. It’s red and splotchy, his eyes are swollen, and traces of snot are on the end of his nose. He’s still the most beautiful man you’ve seen in your life. Moving slowly, not wanting to scare him or to give him time to pull away if he wants, you lean in and gently press your lips to his. Your hands come to cup his face as you pull away, looking at him through your own teary eyes. 
“Eddie, wow.” You shake your head, not even sure where to begin. “Sweetheart,” you say, tilting his head to make sure he’s looking you in the eyes as you say this. “You’re a hero.”
He immediately shakes his head, and it hurts your heart. 
“You are,” you insist. “You didn’t have to go back in like you did. It seems you were specifically told not to. But you did because you wanted to help. To give them the best chance. Even if it meant something terrible at your own expense.” 
Eddie looks up at you under his thick lashes, big brown eyes even more childlike while shiny from tears.
“Sounds like a hero to me, babe,” you tell him.
He lets out a sigh and rubs the palm of his hand against his eye. 
“I didn’t think I’d cry like that,” Eddie admits. “But I’ve also never told the story before, either.”
“What?” You move some hair off his face, stuck there because of the tears. “Not even Wayne.”
Eddie shakes his head. 
“I couldn’t do that to him. He was worried enough as it was, I wasn’t about to add to it. He knows plenty, just not every gory detail. But you deserved to know the truth. Because I’m hoping you’ll be around for a while.” It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound shy and unsure of himself. It makes sense his confidence would be a little rattled after telling you that nightmare-come-true. 
“I’ll be around as long as you’ll have me,” you assure him. “And Eddie? It really means a lot to me that you’ve trusted me with this. I know it wasn’t easy. And I need you to know I appreciate it.” 
He gives you a small smile and you take it as a small victory. 
“There’s another reason I wanted to tell you, too,” he says. He’s avoiding your eyes again and it makes the knot in your stomach start tightening again. 
“What, baby?” you bring your hand to cup his cheek and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. 
“Well, the, uh, attack. It left some…some fucking nasty scars.”
The way his face blushes in embarrassment makes you want to strangle any creature, native to this dimension or not, who ever caused Eddie a bit of harm. 
“So, you wanted to tell me before I see you without your shirt on,” you guess.
He nods his head, cheeks still red. 
“Eddie, look at me.” When he does, you continue. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you had scars on every square inch of skin on your body. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and something as trivial as scars could never change that no matter how hard they tried. I may not have seen your body under your clothes yet, but what I have seen?” You lean in to whisper in his ear. “I love.” 
Eddie looks up at you questioningly and you move yourself so you’re straddling his lap. Your hands wind behind his head and you interlock your fingers against the back of his neck. 
“Your smile was what I noticed first. It’s so genuine and bright, I almost couldn’t believe it was directed at me when we first met. Then, of course, your amazing hair. It’s far nicer than mine and I’m equal parts jealous and turned on by it. And you know what else drives me crazy? This tiny waist.” You dig your fingers into his sides and Eddie chuckles when it tickles him. “It’s so hot. Really. And I’m not sure if you noticed, but I couldn’t stop staring at your bat tattoos all throughout thanksgiving dinner. It’s the sexiest tattoo I’ve ever seen.”
Eddie’s face is still blushing, but by the smile that’s on his face, you’re optimistic that it’s now for a different reason. 
“So, I know for a fact that I’m going to love all the parts of you I haven’t seen bare yet. There’s no scar that’s going to keep me away from you. There’s no wound that’s going to make me not want to have your body pressed up against mine. It’s just not possible.” 
Tears begin to well in Eddie’s eyes now, but there’s a light in them that wasn’t there when he was telling his story. His face looks hopeful, but the fact that he thought any of this would change the way you feel about him is absolute ludacris. 
“This why Steve and Nancy are coming over?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” Eddie admits. “They knew about all the insane shit in this town way before I did. Figured they could answer any questions I couldn’t. And maybe provide proof if you didn’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” you tell him truthfully. “And I also want you to know that you don’t have to show me your scars until you’re ready. I know we talked about having sex but -.”
“No, no, I want to,” Eddie cuts you off. His wide eager eyes make you laugh and lean forward to give him a soft kiss. 
“So do I.”
The sound of a car pulling up outside has you and Eddie both looking towards the front door. Wayne had left bright and early this morning, Eddie had told you, meeting up with some old friends who were back in town for the holidays. It made the trailer the perfect place to talk about interdimensional incidents over lunch without prying ears.
There’s a soft set of footsteps that approach the front door, followed by a heavier gate. You slip off your boyfriend’s lap as there’s a gentle knock on the door. A knock you’ve heard on your own dorm door a hundred times before.
“They better be up,” you hear Steve say.
Eddie rolls his eyes as he pushes off the couch. He opens the front door and puts on a fake show of yawning and stretching his muscles out.
“Was I loud?” Steve asks Nancy, to which she responds by rolling her eyes. She steps past the two boys to come inside and give you a hug. 
“How was the flight?” she asks.
“Not bad. What about yours?”
“Crying baby, but other than that, can’t complain.”
Eddie helps Steve set all of the food he brought down on the kitchen counter. 
“Hey!” Steve calls out to you as he steps around the counter to pull you into a hug. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” you say, squeezing him around his middle. 
“I take it from the red eyes, Munson, that the conversation’s already started?” Steve asks.
“My part’s done,” Eddie says with a shrug as he struggles to open a takeout box. He manages to get the lid off and takes a sniff at the food inside. “What is this?”
“Some cornbread thing they said I have to try, I don’t know,” Steve answers. 
“Are you…okay?” Nancy asks, clearly not knowing how to ask how you’re feeling about the whole Upside Down thing.
“It’s a bit much,” you admit with a sigh. “A lot to wrap my head around. I mean, I totally believe it, it’s just…”
“A lot to take in?” Steve offers, to which you nod. “I know,” he says. “I walked in on it firsthand. Had a gun pointed to my face, almost wet myself, then came back with a bat full of nails and joined the fight.”
“Who the hell held a gun to your face?” you ask, brow furrowing and Eddie laughs from where he’s going through the food.
Steve shoots a pointed look at his girlfriend, who shrugs and gives you a grimace.
“You almost shot your boyfriend?!” you yell.
“He wasn’t my boyfr- oh. Wait. Yeah, he was my boyfriend then. I guess I did do that. But in my defense, I was trying to make him leave so he didn't get caught up in the whole mess. Clearly, it didn’t work.” 
“He takes any excuse to tell a story about his precious bat with the nails, I swear,” Eddie says, coming in from the kitchen with half a turkey sandwich. He holds it up to your lips to offer you a bite, which you take. 
“And El really has powers?” you ask.
“We should sit down and eat,” Nancy says, gesturing to the food. “This could take a while.”
Nancy and Steve are able to answer all of your questions so well that even if you had thought this was all some sort of joke, you wouldn’t have any more with all the details they’re giving you. It would take your mind a while to accept this all as a reality, but you know you’re the lucky one because they’ve been through this hell while you’re just trying to imagine it. 
“Holy shit,” you say when they’re done. “No wonder you’re all bonded so much. You guys can only talk about this with each other.”
“Yep,” Eddie says. “Also part of why I could never tell you over the phone. But I mean, this is kind of a more in person conversation anyway.” 
��Wait, they bug your phone?” you ask.
“They used to,” Nancy says. “Not sure if they still do.”
“I hope not.” Your face blooms red, imagining some government people listening in on your phone sex session with Eddie. Steve catches onto the reason for the color on your face.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “If they are still bugging our phones, nothing you guys said could be any worse than what they’ve already heard from me and Nance.”
Eddie smirks while you turn redder and Nancy hits Steve on the arm. 
The couple stay with you and Eddie for a few hours. The conversation moves to lighter topics and after hours of laughter and banter later, it’s almost as if the four of you have forgotten the dark note this visit started out on. 
After they leave, with Nancy promising you a shopping trip when Eddie goes back to work in a few days, you feel mentally exhausted. It’s obvious Eddie does as well, so you suggest a good old fashioned snowball fight before it gets too dark out. Eddie accepts the challenge and the two of you dodge each other around the sides of the trailer for over an hour. Slinging scooped and formed bits of snow, cheering when you successfully hit one another, or cursing too loud when you missed. Soon, your bodies feel as tired as your minds, and you head back inside the trailer.
Eddie insists you go through the small movie collection and pick out whatever you want while he heats up some leftovers from lunch and makes two mugs of steaming hot cocoa. You pop in the Carrie VHS and snuggle up with Eddie on the couch. There’s a blanket on the other end of the couch and you reach over for it so you can drape it over you both. As Carrie attends her prom on screen, oblivious to the copious amounts of pig’s blood she’s about to be wearing, Eddie taps on your shoulder and points out the window. Snow is coming down in the evening sky and the sight of it makes you smile. Was there a better way to spend the night? Curled up against your boyfriend’s side with delicious food and hot cocoa, watching a horror movie while there’s snow falling outside. 
After Carrie’s hand pops out of the ground at the end, not scaring either of you - even though it definitely did the both of you the first time you saw it - you stretch your legs and roll out your ankles. 
“Tired?” Eddie asks.
“Only a little,” you say. 
He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you hum at the feeling of his lips on you. 
“Wanna go to bed?” There’s another question in there, but the way his voice deepens as he asks it makes your tummy flip. 
“Sure,” you tell him. The blanket falls to the couch as you stand up. Offering a hand to Eddie, you help him up, but he doesn’t let go of your hand all the way to the bedroom. Though you’re the only ones home and will be until sometime the next morning, he still shuts the door behind the two of you. 
You turn to face Eddie and see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Walking over to him, you take each of his hands in your own. He squeezes them and you lean up to peck his lips. 
“We don’t have to,” you say quietly.
His smile is aiming for a smirk but looks gleeful instead.
“I want to as long as you do.”
“Of course,” you tell him. He takes a deep breath, and you grab the bottom of his shirt in your hands. “Can I?”
Eddie nods, anxiety clear in his eyes as you’re about to see his scarred chest and abdomen. You raise the fabric up slowly, giving him the opportunity to stop you at any point if he wants to. But he doesn’t, he just lifts his arms to help you get it over his head. 
When he’s there bare chested before you, your mind holds a few thoughts. First is how absolutely breathtaking he looks. You weren’t lying before; you really do love his adorable tiny waist. There’s something so sexy about it. The second thought is that the scars looked like they were incredibly painful when he was first inflicted with them. It makes you want to take down all the mythical beings that ever thought of laying a hand on your boyfriend. The third thought is of how heartbroken you are that Eddie had to go through all of this and still doesn’t see himself as a hero. His battle scars are right there, pink and white jagged lines that show off his bravery and strength. How Eddie sees anything other than that is beyond you. 
“Eddie, you’re so beautiful,” you say, eyes glued to his chest. He’s watching your face carefully, but you can’t tell because your eyes are tracing the patterns the injured skin created. “Can I…can I touch them? Do they hurt?”
“They don’t hurt anymore,” he assures you. “And yeah, you can touch them if you want.”
You waste no time and start to lightly run your fingers over the healed wounds, mapping out Eddie’s chest. It’s obvious where the demobats took the largest bites of his body, and you ghost your fingertips over those areas as well. 
“I don’t know why you were afraid to tell me about these,” you say, eyes never straying from the puckered flesh of his body. “They’re beautiful. Every single bit.”
His chest flushes pink at your words and you’re assuming his face does the same. Your hands keep going further down until they rest at his waistband. His belt buckle makes you smile as you try to figure out how to undo the handcuffs. 
“This okay?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you open one of the cuffs.
“S’perfect, baby,” he whines. Already so needy for you. The thought sends a buzz through your body before finally settling between your legs. 
You get the belt buckle undone and he helps you push his pants down past his hips. He steps out of them, kicking them behind him somewhere. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the hem of your t-shirt. He searches your face for approval, and when you nod at him, he slides your shirt up and over your head. You’d worn your nicest bra today because you figured Eddie would be seeing it. It’s black lace, the only one you have matching panties of, which you also wore today. The way Eddie’s eyes trail your torso makes you want to cover yourself. Your arms even flinch to do so, but then you remember how vulnerable Eddie is being by letting you see his scars, and you leave your arms where they are. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in the air between you. The flush on your cheeks spreads down to your chest and it makes Eddie grin like a kid in a candy store. He leans in to whisper in your ear. “Now, whenever I make you blush, I’ll know just how far down it’s going.” 
The color on your skin only darkens at his words, and you also feel the effect they have down in your core. As Eddie reaches for the button of your jeans, you reach up and cup his face in your hands. He leans in and kisses you softly as he pops the button open and starts to push the material down. You wiggle your hips to help, but that causes him to groan against your lips. You giggle as you pull back.
“I was just trying to help,” you say.
“And it was sexy,” he says. “Oh, and fuck, so are those.” He looks like he’s in pain as he stares at your black lace panties. You step out of your jeans and move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Eddie follows eagerly, his mouth chasing yours. Lips connected in a tender kiss, Eddie gently lowers you to the bed. You use your elbows to crawl backwards up towards the pillows while never breaking the kiss. Eddie crawls up along your body, hand softly grazing your skin as he goes. You lay back against the pillow and Eddie rests an elbow on either side of your head. He leans in, tilting his head to kiss you at a new angle as he lowers his body gently down on yours. When you feel his clothed erection through his boxers it makes you shiver, causing Eddie to chuckle against your lips.
“What, baby?” he says softly.
“Feels good.” You take his head in your hands to press your mouths together again. “You should take those off.”
He raises a teasing eyebrow at you. 
“Want me to be the first one naked, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hum with a soft giggle. 
“As you wish.”
Eddie reaches down and pushes his boxers down, leaving you to gasp and bite your lip as he kicks them off his legs. 
“Well, shit, Eddie,” you say. “It’s official. Every part of you is fucking perfect.”
Eddie ducks his head, cheeks red at your comment, and presses kisses against your shoulder. He trails his lips up your neck, one hand bracing him up, and the other running over the smooth skin of your hip. Two fingers slip under the band of your panties on your hip, then he lets the material snap back against your skin with a smack. You let out a whimper and Eddie keeps up his ministrations on your neck, working his way up to your jaw. 
“Wanna touch you, Eddie,” you whine. 
He hums a laugh against your skin.
“I should warn you, baby,” he says against your jaw. “You touching me is going to throw me over the edge.”
“That’s fine,” you purr in his ear. “Gives me plenty of time to work you up again.” 
“Fuck.” Eddie drops his forehead to your shoulder. He knows he isn’t going to last long, and you haven’t even touched him yet. 
The feeling of his precum dripping onto your stomach makes you even wetter as your legs brush up against one another underneath Eddie. 
“So, can I?” you ask shyly. “Can I touch you?”
“‘Course you can, sweetheart.” His voice is gravelly and stuttering. It’s almost making you dizzy, this effect you’re having on him. It’s a different sort of high you want to chase again and again. 
“You’re going to have to tell me what to do, baby. How you like,” you say.
Again, Eddie huffs a laugh against your neck. 
“Princess, I don’t even know if we’ll get that far. Just… spit on your hand, yeah? Good, like that.”
You do as you’re instructed and slowly start to reach for his dick. It’s not that you don’t want to touch it - because you really, really do - but your inexperience is making you a little anxious, even though you know Eddie has the same inexperience. But he knows his body and you’ve never even seen a penis in real life until this moment. You know basic biology and anatomy but being in this situation is a whole lot different than doing a homework assignment on the male reproductive system. 
“Baby, you’re not going to hurt me,” Eddie assures you. “Shit, I’m worried about doing that to you.” 
“Guide me?” you ask in a small voice.
“Of course, sweetheart.” Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, nose, then lips. He takes the wrist of your slick hand and brings it down to his cock. He wraps your hand right where he wants it and the moan that comes out of him when your fingers touch him is enough to make you cum yourself. 
His skin is surprisingly soft as you finally leave the anxiety behind and now focus on the feeling of him in your hand. Eddie’s hand adjusts your grip, and he shows you how he likes to be stroked. He does it once, twice, three times with you, then lets you go so you can do it on your own. 
“S’good?” you ask, your eyes glued to your hand working over his dick. 
“Mhm. Fuck.” He had been watching your hand work as well but needed to close his eyes because the sight of you touching him was about to bring him over the edge. “Shit babe, I’m sorry, not gonna last.”
“Good, I want to make you cum,” you say. 
Eddie grits his teeth, the muscles of his abdomen tighten underneath his scarred skin, and his fist clenches the pillowcase your head is resting on.
“I-I’m cumming. Holy shit, I’m cumming.”
He barely gets the warning out in time before he’s releasing all over your hand. You stroke him through it, keeping the same consistent pace you were doing before. The thought that you’d get lots and lots of practice with this makes your head spin. 
Eddie’s white seed coats both his and your stomach by the time he’s spent, every last drop milked from him. 
Watching Eddie come apart on top of you was hands down the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. His face contorted in pleasure, a thin sheen of sweat making his body glisten. He’s never looked more perfect. 
With a dopey grin on his face, Eddie tries to get his breathing back to normal as he comes down from his high. He needs to lay down, so he flops down next to you. 
“Oh baby, that was…fuck. Perfect, is what it was. Thank you.”
He turns his head towards you to give you a kiss. You smile against his lips, pecking them a few times. Then you look down at your stomach, lines of white looking like a Jackson Pollock painting. You swipe two fingers through it and pop them in your mouth. Eddie moans as he watches you suck his cum off yourself. 
“You’re going to get me harder again faster than I thought,” Eddie says with a breathless laugh. “But first, it’s your turn.”
He sits up and scoots down to the foot of the bed. This time when he grabs your ankles his hands aren’t freezing. You giggle as he tugs you down, but the laughter turns into a whine as he begins to slip your panties off. You lift your hips to help him, and he gets them off and tosses them on his nightstand. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he just smirks.
“If I had a back pocket, they’d be put there. But that’ll have to do for now.”
You expect him to spread your legs, but he leans up over your body to kiss your lips. His hand cups your neck, then slides down your shoulder and over your breast. He palms it over the lace and that feeling alone has you closing your eyes and arching your back. His thick fingers trail down the side of the bra until he reaches your back. You sit up just enough for him to reach behind and unclip the bra. You smile to yourself, wondering how long it would take him. He gets it fairly quickly, a triumphant sigh spilling from his lips as he does. The lace straps of the bra feel nice against your heated skin as you slide them down your shoulders and toss the bra off the side of the bed. Eddie’s gaze is hungry, and it sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine. 
Eddie gently lowers you back down to the pillows. He starts by kissing your lips, then moves down to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, then up the swell of your breast until he reaches your nipple. His tongue works over it before he takes it into his mouth and lets it go with a satisfying pop. Never one to half ass something, Eddie moves to your other breast to give it the same attention. Once he’s satisfied there - even though he makes a mental note that he wants to put as many hickeys as he can there asap - he kisses down your tummy, hands coming to massage your thighs. The further he slides down your body, he eases himself off the bed until he’s kneeling on the floor. One gentle hand on each knee, he spreads your legs in front of him and a moan comes out at the sight. 
“Well shit,” Eddie says, echoing your statement from before. “It’s official. Every part of you is fucking perfect.” 
You try your best not to be self-conscious, but it’s hard as no one has ever been down there before. When Eddie starts to press kisses on the inside of your thighs, you feel yourself calm down. You let your eyes slip closed and just try to be in the moment and not in your own head. Just feel Eddie’s lips on your skin, inching closer to the place you want them to be. 
“You okay?”
“M’fine,” you say, voice in a dreamy haze. The fact that he’s checking in with you eases your nerves as well. 
Kisses go higher and higher, coming to the apex of your thigh. Your body jumps, startled as Eddie’s fingers glide along the outside of your folds. 
“Sorry, princess,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
You hold up your arm to give him a thumbs up and he chuckles again. You’re glad you’re both able to laugh and be silly with one another with this. It makes it feel more real, more intimate, more you. 
Eddie uses his fingers to part your folds and the moan that emanates from his throat is purely pornographic. 
“Shit, baby,” he says. “Your pussy is so pretty. Fuck, I bet it tastes as good as it looks.”
Between his words and your anticipation for what’s coming next, you feel the urge to buck your hips up, but manage to hold them still. 
Eddie’s thumb ghosts over your clit and your hand immediately fists the sheet below you. Your boyfriend smirks to himself, loving making you squirm like this. It blows his mind that he gets to be with you like this. That he’s going to be able to learn your body. What makes you moan, what makes you scream, how to touch you and kiss you just right to make sure you feel as good as you make him feel. 
He wants to take it slow since this is both of your first times, but the urge to just dive into your pussy is so strong. He needs to know how you taste. If it’s as sweet as he’s imagined since he jerked off to the thought of you when he went home after meeting you for the first time. 
He runs his thick fingers through your slick folds and lets out a hiss when he feels how wet you are. 
“This is all for me, baby? Does me touching you work you up this bad?”
“Yes,” you whine out. “Love it when you touch me. Makes me so wet.”
A growl rattles in Eddie’s chest and he experimentally runs a finger around your hole, but never breaching it. 
“How’s it feel when you put your fingers in yourself?” he asks.
“Not enough,” you say, breathing becoming more rapid by the second. “Not big enough. Can't reach deep enough.”
“Think my fingers would be better then, princess?”
“Yes!” The way you practically shout it gives Eddie all the encouragement he needs to slide a finger into your right hole. You barely have time to get used to that before his tongue is assaulting your clit. “Fuck! Oh fuck, Eddie.”
The way you say his name has his cock stirring again. He slips a second finger in with the first and the way you move your hips lets him know you’re starting to feel the stretch. Eddie knows the first time can be painful for girls, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He wants this to be perfect for you. 
As he starts to slowly pump the two fingers in and out of you, Eddie attaches his lips to your clit, sucking on it as he listens to your little whimpers and moans coming from above. 
“Like it, baby?” he pulls his mouth away to ask. “God, you’re so fucking tight around my fingers.”
“So much.” You sound like you’re about to cry, but not in a sad way. Overwhelmed, more likely. When Eddie crooks his fingers in a “come hither” motion and hits that sweet, sweet spot inside of you, your hips buck up and you moan a string of eddie-eddie-eddie-eddie’s. Eddie pumps his fingers a few more times before pulling them out. He doesn’t hesitate, his thick fingers covered in your slick go right from your pussy into his mouth. The garbled noise that comes from the back of your throat is part desperation since your hole feels empty now, and partly at how hot it was to watch Eddie lick you off of himself.
“God, you’re even sweeter than I thought,” he says. “So fucking perfect.” 
Eddie lifts the back of your knees over his shoulders so he can be up close and personal with your cute little button and pretty little hole. He dives in immediately, licking into your hole, his fingers keeping you open wide as possible for him. He hardens his tongue as he thrusts it inside you and your hand searches for something to grip onto. You settle for another pillow, but that’s fine. You just need something to squeeze as Eddie brings you pure bliss. 
Eddie’s tongue moves up to your clit, licking and sucking, and putting just the right amount of pressure on it. The fact that Eddie was only going to get better at this over time blows your mind. This is his first time and he’s already making you feel euphoric. 
His mouth moves down again, but he takes a position where every lick he gives to your hole, his nose nudges against your clit, sending shockwaves up your body.
“Eddie, fuck,” you whine. “Gonna cum, baby.”
“Good girl,” Eddie says against your mound. He slides his hands up to cup at your breasts. “Cum for me, princess.”
It only takes a few more swipes of his tongue until your buildup can’t take anymore. White flashes behind your eyelids as your orgasm gets its hooks in you. The arching of your back was involuntary, and the whimpers and moans you’re making are sounds you didn’t know you were capable of producing. Head thrown back in the pillow, thighs closing around Eddie’s head, you feel ecstasy in this moment. It washes over your body, wading and cresting like waves on a beach. 
Letting out a deep breath, you relax all the muscles that have tightened up, including the ones holding your boyfriend’s head between your legs, and melt into the sheets of the bed. 
Eddie’s smirk is triumphant as he crawls up the bed, hovering over you as you try to catch your breath. 
“So, how was that?” 
“Holy shit,” is your only answer and it seems to satisfy him. 
Eddie leans down and presses a loving kiss to your lips.
“I can’t wait until I can get a better view of your face when you cum. I bet it’s breathtaking. Your sounds alone are enough for me to get off to for years. But I must say, the view I had was pretty fucking amazing. Damn, baby. The way your pretty little hole kept sucking my fingers in. And your adorable little clit that I could play with all day.”
His words turn you scarlet red and you try to turn your head to hide it in the pillow. Eddie’s not having it though and uses one hand to tilt your chin back towards him. 
“You better get used to me giving you compliments, sweet thing. It’s only going to get worse now that you’re officially my girlfriend.”
“How do you always make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside?” you ask. 
“Because I’m basically a metal teddy bear,” he says, drinking up his nose in the most adorable fashion. 
“You are!” The title fits him so well that you can’t help but laugh. 
Eddie chuckles and leans in for another kiss. It starts off tender and innocent enough, but quickly evolves to all tongues and teeth, and Eddie starts pawing at your breasts. Your hips raise off the bed and rub against Eddie’s, where you can feel his cock, hard again now. 
“Eddie,” you whine as he moves his kisses to your neck. 
“Yeah, baby?” He’s leaving a hickey that will definitely show, even if you wear a turtleneck. 
“Need you.”
He hums against your skin as his hands roam the expanses of bare skin before him. 
“How, sweetheart? Tell me how.”
“Need you in me,” you whimper. “Need you so close.” 
Eddie leans over your body, and it places one of his most gruesome scars right in front of your face. Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you place a soft kiss against the patch of pink and white skin. There’s a smile on Eddie’s face as he comes back with a condom and small tube of lube in hand. 
You watch as Eddie slips the condom on. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but you can’t take your eyes off his long, thick cock. If just two of his fingers made you feel the stretch, you can’t imagine how full you’ll feel with all of Eddie buried inside you. 
He grabs the lube and shrugs as he pours some into his hand. The smell of cherries floods the air.
“Just wanna be extra careful,” he explains as he fists the lube over his cock. “I want to make it as painless for you as I can.”
“You are the absolute sweetest,” you tell him. 
Once the lube is sufficiently applied, you lay back against the pillows and watch Eddie settle between your legs. He grabs a spare pillow and taps the side of your hip. You raise them so he can slide the pillow under. 
Eddie leans up and presses a slow and loving kiss against your lips. 
“Ready, princess?”
“Mhmm,” you hum. “Kiss me while you go in?”
He did not need to be told twice. Eddie lines himself up with your entrance, and barely breaches you. You hardly feel a thing as Eddie comes up and kisses you, pouring all his devotion and heart into it. His hand snakes between your bodies as well to start rubbing your clit. Maybe between the kissing and the attention on your clit will help ease any discomfort you might have. The sting and burn are still there though, but it’s more bearable with the world's best kisses. 
“Tell me if I’m hurting you, sweetheart,” Eddie says against your lips. 
“N-Not hurting,” you say, hand coming up to grip at his shoulder. 
Eddie nods, kissing your neck. “Let me know what you need. I’ll give you whatever you n-need.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing, baby.” You wrap your legs around his, helping to guide him in.
Eddie groans and the sound makes you tremble with pleasure. “Shit, you feel s’fucking perfect. Like we were made for each other.”
“Uh huh,” you pant out, one hand sliding up to tangle in Eddie’s hair. There’s a pinch and you feel a sting between your legs as Eddie bottoms out, but you don’t say anything as you feel his hot kisses on your skin. It doesn’t hurt for long, and you know Eddie would pause his motions, but that’s the last thing you want. 
“F-Faster, Eddie,” you say. “Want more.”
His kisses trail up to your lips and his hips pick up speed.
“This good, baby?” he asks.
“Yes. Fuck, yes.” 
His hand moves from your clit to squeeze your hip. He holds it in his tight grip as his hips start to piston in and out of you, his pace becoming more irregular. It gives you a warm feeling in your limbs as you realize you can already recognize when Eddie is close to cumming. You clench around him, and he gasps, hand sliding from your hip to cup your breast.
“I can’t believe how fucking tight you are, baby,” he groans. “Such a perfect pussy.”
With a moan, you arch your back, forcing your breast even more into your boyfriend’s hand. 
“Eddie, you’re so big. Love how you fill me up.”
“M’close. Wanna hold out but you feel too good around me.” His lips capture yours and you’re instantly licking into his mouth. Your hand tugs gently on his hair and his hips snap forward, the mattress creaking in protest at the ferocity. You pull back and rest your forehead against Eddie’s. 
“Want you to feel good,” you say. “Want you to cum.”
A guttural moan comes from his throat and it’s enough to make you orgasm on the spot. His sounds are music to your ears, and you’d listen to him make them for the rest of your lives if he let you. 
“Gonna, baby. Gonna cum.”
You nod at him, encouraging him as your fingers scratch at his scalp. He goes to bury his face in your neck, but you stop him.
“Wanna see your face,” you tell him. “Wanna watch you.”
Eddie nods, sweat beading on his forehead as his face scrunches in pleasure. He looks so beautiful you can’t help but steal a few more kisses. 
“Cum for me, Eddie.”
The words are all he needs, his hips thrusting once, twice, before a whine leaves his lips as he spills inside the condom. The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you sends a flutter through you and a smile spreads on your face. Eddie’s eyes focus on your face as he rides out his high, and a matching smile grows on his face as he takes in your flushed and grinning face. 
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Eddie says between ragged breaths. 
You reach up and cup his face in your hands and bring his lips down to yours. Never taking his mouth off of yours, he slips out of you and lays down next to you on the bed.
You reluctantly pull away when you need air, but you rest your hands on Eddie’s chest so you’re still touching him in some way. He slips out of the condom, ties it off, and tosses it in the trash can next to his bed. When he rolls back over to face you, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls your body against his.
“Holy shit,” Eddie says. 
“Good, baby?”
“Good? Good? Try fucking amazing,” Eddie says. He peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle. “I’m sorry you didn’t cum though, baby.”
“Sweetie, I did,” you tell him. “Because of your sinful mouth.”
Eddie ducks his head bashfully, a red tint coming to his cheeks. 
“Yeah, but not while I was in you.”
“That’s okay,” you say honestly. You push some of the damp hair from his forehead and kiss his cheek. “Most girls don’t the first time like that. But my boyfriend is generous and made sure I was taken care of beforehand.”
His hand trails up and down your back as he smiles down at you. 
“Was my pleasure, baby. Trust me.”
With a giggle, you slip from his arms and off the bed. He pouts but you assure him you’ll be right back before slipping into the bathroom. Your sister never taught you much in life, but once piece of advice she’d given you is to pee after sex. When you walk back into Eddie’s room, his face is still blissed out as he stares up at the ceiling. He lifts his head when he sees you in the doorway and raises an eyebrow at you.
“All good?”
“Mhmm,” you say, making your way back to the bed. “There was only a little bit of blood.”
Eddie sits up quickly, frown coming to his face.
“What? Blood? Are you okay? Was I too rough?”
The concern on his face melts your heart and you shake your head as you sit down next to him. 
“Oh, baby, no.” He pulls you into his lap and you rest your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just something that happens the first time. You were perfect. Thank you for being so careful with me.”
Eddie nods and rests his forehead against yours.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Sleepy?” you ask.
His responding yawn makes you chuckle, and you slide from his lap. You grab your panties from the nightstand and Eddie’s shirt from the floor and slip them on. 
“You’re not gonna stay naked?” Eddie asks with a pout. 
“It’s freezing!” you say. 
“I’ll keep you warm.” Eddie lays down and opens his arms for you. You scoop his boxers up from the floor and toss them at his chest before slipping under the covers. He pulls them up his hips and situates himself back against the pillows. 
Blankets pulled up to your neck, you sling your arm over Eddie’s middle and lay your head on his shoulder. Wrapped up in his embrace, you’ve never felt happier. The two of you whisper back and forth in the dark room for a few moments before you drift off to sleep, warm and cozy in each other’s arms. 
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burntheedges · 4 months
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Maintenance Request: Chapter 5
Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.4k
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summary: Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence — he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him.  There’s no way there could be something more there.
Right?
a/n: happy Friday! let's see what's going on with these two. 😏 chapter tags/warnings: banter, food and drink mention (brunch), fluff, mention of breasts
Chapter 5
Friday, September 27 Fifth week of the semester
You looked for your construction guy (HCG, said Beth’s voice in your head) outside when you left your class that Friday, but there was no sign of the crew anywhere. It seemed he’d been right and they had finished their work with the jackhammer in less than 20 minutes. 
Damnit. 
You looked, but you didn’t see him at all the following week, either. Beth had told you you needed to apologize, and you knew she was right, but you didn’t even know the guy’s name. You didn’t really want to go down to the maintenance office and try to find him, either, Beth. Not with so little to go on.
One morning, though, in the week following the jackhammer incident, you were walking into your building when you stopped, frozen, with your foot on the first step of the stairs to the entrance. Something wasn’t right. You looked up and around, trying to figure out what had caught your eye. 
Then it hit you.
The absence of flowers.
All of the chrysanthemums in the beds around your building were gone, replaced with greenery. Not a single flower in sight. You took a deep, easy breath, and smiled a bit at the feeling. You glanced all around, half expecting to see HCG lurking around a corner, watching you notice the change. He wasn’t there, of course. He only appeared in moments when you embarrassed yourself somehow. 
But something tripped in the back of your mind. It couldn’t be an accident. You started to wonder.
Maybe it was because of your suspicions about the landscaping change, or maybe it was because of your lingering guilt at the way you’d snapped at HCG, but on Friday you decided to finally put in your maintenance request for the picture that had broken during the pile driver incident. Anything to take your mind off of the look on his face when you’d called your interactions with him a “shitty, unpleasant surprise.” 
You weren’t allowed to hang things on the wall in your offices by yourself, and usually you complained about that at length whenever it was needed (they really couldn’t just let you hammer in a few nails? come on). But you were feeling bad about how rude you’d been and you sighed as you finally put in the request for someone to come hang your new frame, complete with the same picture of you and Ellie. You’d reframed it weeks ago but it was just leaning up against the bottom of the wall right below where it used to hang. In the picture you were both making silly faces and just looking at it made you smile, every time. It was time for it to go back up and for you to stop holding a grudge against the need to call in a maintenance request for it. 
It didn’t assuage your guilt about the whole situation, but it did make you feel a teensy bit better.
To your surprise, the ticket was processed quickly. You got a notification that someone would be by to take care of it on Monday. That was fast. You shrugged, and made a mental note to prepare that corner of your office before leaving for the weekend.
Saturday, September 28 Fifth week of the semester
Most weekends, you and Beth met up for brunch, and Ellie joined you pretty frequently. On this particular Saturday you were watching as she shoveled potatoes into her mouth, barely paying any attention to them, as Beth caught her up on what was going on with HCG. 
(At brunch the week before, the day after the jackhammer incident, you’d recounted the entire incident to Beth. She’d sighed, heavily.
“Ok, so you were a bit bitchy to him, but describe his face again?”
“He looked like I’d just punched him,” you’d said, hands over your eyes. “Eyebrows raised, eyes wide, mouth dropped open. Totally taken aback, and like, hurt. Which made me feel even worse.”
Beth had been silent for long enough that you’d finally peeked out from behind your fingers and found her considering you, eyes narrowed. She’d taken a sip of her drink and said, plainly, “he’s into you.” Like it was a fact, something obvious, something everyone knew. Duh, he’s into you.
You’d scoffed. “No way, Beth, I’ve been an asshole to the guy like five times now, that’s ridiculous.”
She’d shaken her head and smirked. “Why would he react like that if he didn’t want you to like him? He keeps coming up to talk to you every time he sees you. He asked you to coffee the first time and shit, he definitely looked at your tits.” You’d shaken your head right back in response through all of her points. She’d rolled her eyes.
“No, I just keep bothering him when he’s working. And he didn’t ask me to coffee, he offered to replace the one I spilled all over myself when I ran into him.”
Beth had leveled an unimpressed look at you, but you’d changed the subject.)
She looked just as unimpressed a week later, and this time she had Ellie to back her up. 
“Look, he kept trying to talk to you. He was flirting with you, and you know it.” Beth pointed at you with her fork and raised her eyebrows. 
You shook your head. “No, I think he was being normal and I was being rude.”
She rolled her eyes. “He was being polite and friendly, sure, but he was also teasing you, and going out of his way to talk to you. It was more than that. He called you ‘darlin’!” You shook your head again as she added, “And he got rid of the flowers in front of your building.”
“We don’t know that that was him?” You could hear how weak your protest was and she raised her eyebrows as she ignored it. 
Ellie snorted. “Who else would it be?”
Beth nodded, agreeing. “No one else knew or cared that you were allergic to them. Hot Construction Guy likes you, dumbass. You know I’m right.” She waved her fork at you again to punctuate her statement. You eyed the bit of egg on the end distrustfully. 
Ellie hummed, adding, “you really think this guy would rip up a whole flower bed that he’d just finished putting in if he didn’t like you? As he should, of course, but come on. Doing the whole thing twice? Even if you like flowers and dirt or whatever that’s a lot.”
You sighed. “Ok, even if you are right, I was still a bitch to him last time. Why would he want to talk to me anymore?”
Beth reached out to squeeze your arm. “If that scares him away, he’s not worth it. But I bet it doesn’t. I bet the next time you see him will be different. Besides, didn’t he change out the flower bed after you yelled at him?” She was right, but you didn’t know what it meant. Only what you wanted it to mean.
“Ok, well, we’ll see I guess. But I doubt it. And we still don’t know if that was him!” 
Ellie sighed, looking extremely done with your nonsense, and poked you with her spoon. “What’s that thing you tell me all the time, about school? Oh, right. Stop assuming people don’t like you.” Her tone was as dry as the desert and she graced you with an extremely unimpressed raised eyebrow. You smiled, finally, and poked her back.
Beth took pity on you and interrupted your spoon warfare to ask Ellie how school was going, but the idea that HCG might actually like you needled its way into your brain. It stayed there, hovering behind your every thought for the rest of the weekend. 
Monday, September 30 Sixth week of the semester
On Monday morning, you’d (somewhat) successfully put it all out of your mind — you were going to let the next encounter happen, and just do better. And apologize. But you’d decided that you weren’t going to force it. 
At this point you’d probably trip over him on your way to class, anyway. 
You made it through your morning class and lunch with no HCG sightings, though. You were pretending not to worry about how long it had been since you’d seen him and trying to focus on grading (as always) during your office hours when someone knocked on your door. 
“Come in,” you called absently, barely looking up from the paper in front of you. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled you and you looked up. Your jaw dropped open.
It was him. HCG. He had one hand on your door and one foot inside your office, hovering over the threshold. “Afternoon,” he greeted you, nodding his head. “I’m here about your maintenance request.” He looked cautious, like he was unsure of his welcome, and it pierced you in the chest with the echo of your guilt from the incident the week before. 
“You!” This was apparently becoming your standard greeting for him, but at least you didn’t shout it at him this time. You stood up. Do better, this time, you reminded yourself. “I mean, um, hi. Yes, come in. Th- thank you for coming.” He hesitated, but stepped into your office, leaving the door slightly ajar. 
“What was it you needed?” He sounded uncertain, still. And that was all your fault. 
You took a deep breath, and explained, “um, one of my framed pictures fell the day with the, uh, the pile driver—”
“Ah, damn. I’m sorry-”
“No! No, it’s not your fault. But I just got a new one and wanted to hang it back up, that’s all.” You bit your lip and clasped your hands together in front of you, meeting his gaze with your own, eyes wide.
He raised his eyebrows. “You should’ve told us, we would’ve replaced the frame for you.” You shrugged in response, not sure what to say. “Well, I can definitely do that for you, darlin’. Won’t take but a moment.” You felt your body react to the endearment the way it did every time, though you were usually too distracted by anger or frustration or sneezes to really take note of it. You tried not to be too hopeful about the fact that he was still using it, after you’d been so rude. You stepped forward to hide your reaction.
“Here’s the frame.” You picked up the frame from the floor. “It goes, um, just over there.” You pointed to the empty place on your wall above your desk. He nodded and moved to take it from you.
An awkward silence fell over you as he worked, pulling out the old anchor and nail to replace them with different ones that fit your new, more secure frame. Your eyes fell on his arms and for a moment you just watched the muscles in his shoulders and biceps move until you had to tear your gaze away, overwhelmed. You searched for something to say, for a way to break the increasingly awkward tension, knowing you still needed to apologize. 
He beat you to it. Again. His gaze was directed at the wall as he placed the new anchor and his voice was soft.
“Look, darlin’, I’m sorry about all the noise and problems lately. I, uh, I feel like maybe you’ve been getting the worst of it all, and I didn’t mean to upset you. I really am sorry about all of that—”
“No, I’m sorry,” you cut him off and winced a bit at the volume of your voice. The idea that he felt like he needed to apologize to you was galling and you couldn’t let it go on for another second. “I didn’t really mean it that way, what I said. I wanted to take it back right away, but I had class and, well. Sometimes I blurt things out without thinking.” You smiled at him, a bit hesitant. Your hands were laced together in front of you again, clenched so tight your knuckles were white, and you forced them to relax as he looked at you. He smiled back, soft. 
“You were right to be annoyed, I felt pretty terrible about how we kept interrupting your day.” He laughed, a bit ruefully, and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. “Wasn’t the best impression, I know.” You tilted your head at him, considering. 
“But I knew it wasn’t your fault, right? It’s not like you’re in charge or anything. And even then you can’t change things around for one person. I wasn’t really mad at you, just mad, and I took it out on you. Sorry.” He furrowed his brow at your comment, and started to reply, but you cut him off. “I just realized I don’t even know your name, I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me.” You introduced yourself, and raised your eyebrows at him expectantly.
“Have to confess, I did know yours.” He met your gaze out of the corner of his eye as he hung your picture back on the wall. You nodded — it was on the maintenance request, you knew that. And on your office door. “Joel Miller. Nice to finally meet you.” He turned back to face you, having finished hanging your picture, and held his hand out for you to shake. You took it. His was large and warm and you felt a shiver go up and down your spine at the feeling of it surrounding your own.
You smiled. “Nice to meet you too, Joel.” His name felt nice on your tongue. He smiled back. 
You were both silent for a moment, a bit awkward, when he glanced to his left and frowned.
“Has your shelf always had that tilt to it?” 
You turned to look, and bit your lip. “I think so? It’s been like that since I moved my stuff into this office, anyway.”
He moved over to it to assess and let go of your hand, which was when you realized you’d been awkwardly holding onto his the whole time. Get it together. You felt your cheeks get warm again. He mumbled something to himself — you only caught “shoddy work” and nothing else. It made you smile, again.
“I can’t fix this today, but I can come back later and make sure this won’t fall off the wall. You sure do have a lot of books.”
 You laughed, nodding. “Comes with the territory, I guess.” He smiled at you over his shoulder.
“I liked this one.” To your surprise, he was pointing at a new book of short stories that had just come out last year. You tried not to let it show on your face, but you could see that he noticed. “No, it’s alright, I know I don’t look like the type to know about it or enjoy it. My daughter keeps me well-read, always picking books for me to read that she liked or thinks I’d like. She’s planning to come here in a few years, when she graduates.” 
Suddenly you realized you’d gone from knowing nothing about this man (except how hot he was) to learning so many new things about him in just a few minutes that you felt a bit winded, a bit out of breath. Hot Construction Guy — Joel — was even more interesting up close. But you were also cautious at the mention of a daughter. You glanced down and saw he wasn’t wearing a ring, at least. When you looked back up you saw that he had followed your gaze to his left hand, and you knew you were caught.
You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “Oh? Thinking she wants to be an English major?” You smiled at the thought, trying to stay on topic. 
“She’s not sure, but I haven’t exactly been pushing. She has plenty of time to decide, she’s only a sophomore now.” You nodded, agreeing. That was a refreshing outlook to hear from a parent.  He tilted his head and gave you an intent look before he continued, “it’s just the two of us, so she keeps me on my toes enough as it is.” You felt yourself smile widely in response. So he wanted you to know he was single, then. Interesting.
“My niece, Ellie, is the same.” You pointed at the picture he’d just hung up, and he followed your gaze and smiled. It looked good on him. He looked much more relaxed than he had when he’d arrived at your office. You’d started to feel a bit lighter, too, since it seemed your apology had been well-received.
Maybe he was interested after all. Why else would he point out that he wasn’t with anyone? You hoped you weren’t reading into that.
After a moment Joel ran his hand through his hair and started to reach for his bag. “Well, darlin’, I won’t take up any more of your time. But I’ll put in another ticket for you for the shelf, be back soon to work on it.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“It’s fine, really, happy to do it.” He smiled and picked up his bag of tools as he backed towards the door. “See you then.” As he stepped through the door, a thought occurred to you, something you’d been worrying over with Beth and wondering about.
“Joel, wait,” you called out to him as he was about to disappear from view, and he poked his head back into your office. “Do you know anything about the plants outside this building? I noticed the flowers were gone. It’s been, well. A relief.” You could see him hesitate, before he seemed to settle on a tiny smirk.
“Can’t say as I do, darlin’.” He winked at you and walked off before you could press him on it. But you knew he was lying. Left alone in your office, you couldn’t wipe the huge smile off your face. 
you (1:42 PM): BETH (1:43 PM): GUESS WHO JUST CAME BY TO HANG MY PICTURE BACK UP
bestie (1:46 PM): HCG???? (1:46 PM): no way
you (1:47 PM): and GUESS WHO DID GET RID OF THE FLOWERS OUTSIDE
bestie (1:48 PM): I KNEW IT (1:48 PM): I TOLD YOU (1:48 PM): the man is INTO you (1:49 PM): what did he say???
you (1:50 PM): well he started apologizing to ME, which was ridiculous so I interrupted and apologized to him (1:50 PM): he said he felt bad that they were constantly interrupting my day (1:51 PM): and his name is Joel btw
bestie (1:52 PM): excuse me his name is HCG  (1:52 PM): but I’ll allow it
you (1:53 PM): and it turns out he READS (1:53 PM): he recognized that book of short stories I reviewed in the spring
bestie (1:55 PM): ok that’s random
you (1:56 PM): right?? apparently his daughter gets him to read new stuff 
bestie (1:56 PM): wait, daughter? (1:56 PM): is there a wife? partner?
you (1:58 PM): no he caught me looking at his left hand like a total weirdo and then he EMPHASIZED that it’s just the two of them (1:58 PM): like that was the next thing he said  (1:58 PM): “it’s just the two of us”
bestie (1:59 PM): oh he wants you (1:59 PM): he’s INTO YOU (1:59 PM): like there is no reason to say that otherwise
you (2:00 PM): I KNOW (2:01 PM): he’s coming back to fix my wonky shelves
bestie (2:01 PM): good and then you can jump him
you (2:02 PM): BETH (2:02 PM): no
bestie (2:04 PM): beth yes (2:04 PM): get him  (2:05 PM): who doesn’t have an office sex fantasy, seriously
you (2:06 PM): 🙄 (2:07 PM): anyone who has to have office hours in that same office with undergrads three times a week
bestie (2:09 PM): you always ruin my fun
you (2:12 PM): 🙄
Ellie (6:07 PM): i told you he did the flowers 
you (6:08 PM): yeah yeah brainiac you were right 
Ellie (6:08 PM): obviously  (6:09 PM): look i don’t want any ~details~ but he should do that kind of stuff for you  (6:09 PM): if he likes you  (6:09 PM): or else 🔪
you (6:10 PM): love you too, kid 
Ellie (6:12 PM): 🔪
...
a/n: yes, that really is the rule at some places (about not hanging things yourself). see you next Friday. :) prev | next
tag list: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @katareyoudrilling @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker
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writerpeach · 11 months
Text
Never Safe For Work
Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader
word count: 14k
The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series
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Read on AFF
Read on AO3
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Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker. 
The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.
Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end. 
Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.
While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.
Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts. 
Great. 
Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side. 
But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.
"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile. 
“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today. 
"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”
Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?” 
That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits. 
“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.” 
“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command. 
With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."
As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit. 
Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk. 
"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious. 
“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.” 
Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate. 
“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?” 
“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them. 
“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”
“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.” 
Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again. 
“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.” 
Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.” 
“Just be professional.” 
“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.” 
Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction. 
“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late. 
After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with? 
“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—” 
Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 
“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?” 
“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”
“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back. 
“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.” 
Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.
“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.
“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.” 
Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?” 
“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second. 
“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?” 
Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.” 
Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…” 
She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up. 
“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie. 
“But I think you should take a break now…” 
“Gahyeon—” 
“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.
“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?” 
You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations. 
But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.” 
Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.” 
When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth. 
“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.” 
Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.
“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?” 
“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.” 
There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs. 
“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after. 
Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything. 
But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?” 
Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip. 
“I’ll convince you, boss.” 
Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length. 
If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation. 
But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job. 
So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…” 
Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.
“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you. 
“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs. 
“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth. 
“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine. 
That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat. 
“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided. 
Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could. 
In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.
But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.” 
Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you. 
“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before. 
“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?” 
Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—
It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth. 
"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks. 
Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try. 
Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.
“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe. 
More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired. 
Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat. 
After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face. 
“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe. 
Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…” 
From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking. 
More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck. 
Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure. 
"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?” 
The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions. 
Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun. 
Shit. 
Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed. 
After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize. 
“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”
Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently. 
While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable. 
“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji. 
“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.
 “Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.” 
You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips. 
“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.” 
“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon. 
“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest. 
If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else. 
“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.” 
“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.” 
“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.
“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work. 
“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"
Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.” 
Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.
More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you. 
“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat. 
Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax. 
Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle. 
You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat. 
After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.
“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.” 
“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm. 
You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground. 
“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin. 
“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt. 
“Nothing, Gahyeon.” 
“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…” 
“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.
“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.” 
Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.
✦ ✦
You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough. 
The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes. 
Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams. 
When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions. 
“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal. 
She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her. 
“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door. 
“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”
“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back. 
“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”
Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.” 
“That’s much better. Now arms up.” 
Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?” 
That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office.. 
“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage. 
She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze. 
“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.” 
“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek. 
“Good girl.” 
As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more. 
Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom. 
Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch. 
“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.
The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough. 
You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh. 
Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment. 
Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench. 
"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power. 
“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.  
“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away. 
Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”  
But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.” 
Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips. 
“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck. 
“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.  
As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee. 
You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open. 
Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!” 
You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.” 
“But they’re supposed to be—” 
Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare. 
“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”
Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.” 
With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach. 
“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric. 
“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?” 
“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?” 
“Until you can’t walk.” 
Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips. 
“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure. 
“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft. 
Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you. 
“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer. 
“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.” 
Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last. 
“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.” 
With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion. 
“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.” 
There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was. 
“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.” 
Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer. 
“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable. 
“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more. 
Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever. 
“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!” 
You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts. 
Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control. 
And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together. 
If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end. 
Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.
“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”
For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.” 
Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed. 
Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill. 
Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her. 
Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained. 
And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased. 
Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.
"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.
“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly. 
Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.
“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came. 
Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.
“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…” 
“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”
“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.” 
Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop. 
You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.
When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered. 
“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps. 
“Gahyeon, fuck—” 
“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…” 
After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.” 
Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing. 
“So, boss…” 
Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?” 
“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”
“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.” 
Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack. 
✦ ✦
After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step. 
Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock. 
But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand. 
You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand. 
“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went. 
“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”
For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock. 
“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.” 
“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up. 
“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…” 
You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes. 
“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.
“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.” 
Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—” 
“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back. 
“Please, daddy—” 
“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.” 
Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?
“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.” 
“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that. 
So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away. 
“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock. 
Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.
“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.
That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”
With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length. 
“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—” 
Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started. 
Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit. 
“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…” 
She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke. 
“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size. 
“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep. 
“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell. 
All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further. 
“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle. 
Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.
“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.” 
Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires. 
“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust. 
“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect. 
If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips. 
“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved. 
Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt. 
When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.
“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?” 
“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you. 
You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?” 
Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”  
“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself. 
“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.” 
You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.” 
“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…” 
In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead. 
"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again. 
You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”
That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness. 
“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you. 
“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”
Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.” 
You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.  
“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…” 
Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock. 
Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke. 
“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.
“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot. 
Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole. 
At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure. 
“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.” 
If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning. 
Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did. 
But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more. 
“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?” 
Gahyeon could only nod. 
“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax. 
“Good little slut.” 
“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist. 
All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body. 
Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop. 
“Gahyeon—” 
“Yes, daddy?” 
You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin. 
“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no. 
"Needy brat."
"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up. 
Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.
She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”
Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that. 
Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway. 
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v1olentdelights · 7 months
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We'll Be Waiting For You
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bau x fem!reader Summary: What was supposed to be a fun surprise, turned into something much worse. TW: Kidnapping, blood, drugging, torture (self inflicted, it is just cutting but please don't read if that is triggering), the mention of bugs (guys I couldn't think of anything else), and probably bad writing. ALSO!! Spoilers for Mr. Scratch! I am actually awful at recounting things, so I know this is wrong, but for the sake of the fic, lets pretend it isn't a/n: I apologize for the plot holes, there are definitely pieces that don't go along with the actual storyline, and I'm probably adding people in at the wrong times, but please enjoy! @shadowmoonlight0604 you inspired me to write a pt 2, so thank you! <3 This is so bad, I am so sorry
You had spent a few years in Europe, and over that time you had come back to visit as much as you could. You have seen things change every trip back. One of those being Aaron and Jack being put into protective custody. You were able to see him one last time via facetime, it had ended in a long conversation with a final decision that you both were safer if you stopped seeing one another. For Jack’s and your safety. And though it hurt, you knew it would be what’s best for all of you. 
After that you decided that it was time for you to come home. After talking with the new lead, Emily Prentiss, and your longtime best friend, you were invited back to the BAU. It was meant to be a surprise, you even had it planned out you would be sitting down at your old desk with a cup of coffee. And of course would make some comment about how they finally replaced the coffee machine. But what was supposed to be a fun surprise, turned into something much worse.
It was an early Monday morning, you had brought a bag full of some small goodies for your team, and even something for the new recruits. It felt good to be back in Quantico, in the stain ridden parking garage that had a certain weird smell to it. What you hadn’t expected was to have the back of your leg cut as you stepped out of the car, maybe you had been out of the profiling gig too long, or maybe they were just that good. It didn’t matter which it was, all that mattered was that as soon as you fell to the ground someone was on top of you and shoving something over your mouth. You knew better than to breathe in, but you could only hold your breath for so long. 
“Come on little bird, take a breath.” the person said. And though you tried, you couldn’t help but gasp for air, and you knew it was over. 
— — — —
It was that time of morning where everyone had filed in but weren't quite awake enough to be fully working. Penelope had perched herself on the edge of Luke Alvez’s desk while making conversation with him and JJ. Tara Lewis, Matt Simmons, and Spencer were in a deep discussion about the actual effects of coffee as the latter two were worried about Spencer's consumption. But Rossi storming in caught everyone’s attention. 
“Prentiss, her car is here but the driver side door was left open and her coffee is cold.” There was some kind of urgency in his voice that had everyone shedding the morning drowsiness. Emily stepped out of her office, holding her phone to her ear. 
“I know, she won’t pick up my calls.” Panic was written all over their faces. Spencer had now gotten up from his seat and made his way towards where Emily stood. 
“Who?” he was almost scared to ask. 
“Well what was supposed to be a surprise, is now a case. Y/N was coming back-” 
“Is. You mean she is coming back to work!” Penelope interrupted, Luke had put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. 
“Let’s get going then.” Emily put on her Unit Chief tone, putting her team to work. 
— — — —
“Wake up, little bird.” You felt something brush against your stomach, your shoulder ached, and you were sure that you were drenched in sweat. “Don’t make me ask again.” This time the brush against your stomach was more forceful, almost like something was trying to grab you. Instinctually, you sucked your stomach in. “Oh so she is awake.” The person grabbed your hair and yanked it so you were forced to meet their eyes, slowly you opened yours. 
If you hadn’t been scared and weren’t currently tied up, you’d think the gray eyes were beautiful. All you could do was see Spencer’s face, his teary eyes when you said goodbye to him before you left. You had heard about all he had been through since you left, and all you want to do now is hug him. Suddenly it hit you that the only people who knew you were back in town for good, or even at all, were Emily and David. You had almost wished they would stay out of this, but a bigger part of you started to count the minutes until they found you.
“There she is.” Taking in his appearance you almost wanted to shrink away from him, and it was only because of his awfully horrific smile. “BAU Princess, if you ask me. Emily was so excited to see you too, her last message was; ‘Y/N I made sure your usual parking spot is open for you! I have a little gift for you too, see you soon!’ I mean, exclamation points from the Unit Chief, that seems pretty big to me.” You tried to look away from him, but his grip on your face was almost bruisingly strong. 
“What do you want?” you asked as passively as you could, you didn’t know anything about this man, it was best to try and keep the situation from escalating by remaining neutral. Looking around a bit, you noticed you were in a cage-like structure, great.
“I just want to have a bit of fun, you see, I have been watching you for a long time. I have watched your team even longer, and I know you mean oh so much to them.” Letting go of your face he takes a few steps back and reaches to grab a mask, one resembling a gas mask. At this point, you know there is no reason to try and get away from it, so you simply accept the gas that then fills the room. Your brain began to grow fuzzy, but it almost felt nice. 
— — — — 
Seeing your face up on the board was more than enough to get the whole team to give 110%. They had pulled every file about you that they had access to. They also gathered the case files from some of the major cases they had worked on with you. 
“Guys, I think we are overlooking the obvious suspect.” Luke hadn’t ever met you, but from your files, you seemed like a reasonable person. “I know none of us want it to be true, but Mr. Scratch has been attacking us. What if he took her?” The room was silent, Emily finally spoke up. 
“Okay, then we need to get one step ahead of him. How do we do that?” She looked around the table at everyones expressions, anger, hurt, and guilt. “She is strong, we know this. Let’s channel our anger into finding her, not worrying about her.” 
“Easier said than done.” Rossi muttered under his breath. 
— — — —
You couldn’t tell how long it has been since you were taken. But you were lucky enough to know that the man would take his sweet time getting to you. 
“There is another one!” you felt something tickling your leg, when you looked down you saw another massive bug. Why were there so many? It felt as if you had been slashing at bugs for hours. You were told to cut and slice, and only when you were given the order to stab, would you follow through, it was only a few times . “Oh no…” the voice sounded nervous, which only spurred your anxiety and fear more. 
“WHAT?!” You cried out at the thought of another bug. 
“It's right on your upper arm now.” With that information you began frantically cutting around your left arm, it felt like it was stinging, but that was probably just the bug crawling around. “You’ve almost got it.” a few moments later “You did it!” Letting out a cry of relief you dropped the knife. 
You couldn’t make much out, but there was a lot of red around you. Red means blood. Blood means bad things, usually that someone is hurt. You slowly started to piece together why the blood was so close to you. “I think it’s time for a nap.” Suddenly gas filled the room again, but this time you wanted to fight back. 
“NO! No, don't do this! I can’t walk! PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU!!” But your words began to slur, and you knew it was over. 
“Goodnight little bird.” 
— — — — 
It had been hours, now being well into the late evening, everyone seemed to be defeated, coffee cups were strewn across the table along with some take out boxes. Just when the team thought they were getting nowhere, Penelope and Spencer had somehow triangulated an approximate spot where you were likely being kept. 
“Okay, pack up everyone!” Emily announced while tossing her blazer to the side. The team packed up in the cars and were speeding off. 
— — — —
You were chained up by the wrists again, this time though, you were a little more aware of your surroundings.  Something you were sure of was that you were in your underwear and your work blouse. The neat updo you had in the morning was falling out, there was sweat on your face, probably from the stress and thrashing around. The worst thing, however, was the blood. You could feel it dripping down your left arm, a trickle of it went over your armpit and you could feel it seeping into your bra. Then there were your legs. With the way you were strung up, your toes were holding you up, but you could feel blood collecting there as well. There was a small puddle collecting around your feet that threatened to make you slip and break your wrists. 
“How is my little bird doing?” You hated his voice, it was disgusting. Turning away he clicked his tongue, before digging into one of the deeper cuts on your left arm eliciting a yelp. “We only have a small amount of time together, so I suggest you cooperate or I will dispose of you.” You took a moment to contemplate your options. Would death be better than the embarrassment of being found? You had already lost so much.
“I’m fine.” You spit in his face. He simply smirked, and it made you want to vomit. 
“Well, I have enjoyed our time together, little bird, though I must get going. I want you to remember all of this, take it all in.” And then he turned to leave you. 
— — — —
The team was restless the whole ride to the warehouse, some even went as far as to put their vests on. Though as they pulled to a stop, Emily made a move to stop everyone from entering. “We need to wait for backup.” It wasn’t a suggestion. 
“Like hell we are going to wait! One of our own is in there. Y/N is in there!” JJ exclaimed. And before Emily even got the chance to protest, Luke pushed past her. Spencer, Matt, and JJ followed behind him.
“Screw it.” Rossi followed up behind her as they entered the building.
A few minutes after entering, Luke came over the coms saying he had caught sight of Scratch and was going to pursue, JJ and Tara followed him. Now it was up to the others to find you.
— — — — 
It had been such an exhausting day, and at this point you didn’t know what was real, things were still fuzzy. And you certainly did not expect the man to come back, but the rattling of the cage walls told you. It seemed pathetic, especially given that you had just spit in his face, but you were scared. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the worst.
“NO, please I can’t take it anymore!” you let the tears fall, telling yourself you could be strong another day. “I will do anything else, please!” what would Aaron think if he were here? 
“Hey, hey, hey, It’s okay. You’re safe now.” This voice was different, more calming. But it could be a lie. 
“No. No, really. I can’t do this, please just- just don’t.” Unbeknownst to you it was the newest member of the BAU, Matt, and that Spencer and Rossi had entered the room as well, Emily surveyed the surrounding area, just in case. 
“I’m going to get you down, but you have to promise to try and be still. I don’t want to hurt your wrists more than they already are. Okay?” And for some reason you put your faith in the unknown. As you shook your head you felt hands on your wrists, and they hurt so very bad. But the touch was gentle. You felt the release before you heard the click, and your whole body gave out. The person caught you and slowly brought your body to the ground.  “There we go.” 
Opening your eyes you saw that it wasn’t the man from before, but a new person. Your eyes were still adjusting but you were sure you were seeing Spencer behind him, and is that Rossi beside Spencer? This was too much to take in, it was all too much. Your chest began to rise and fall quicker, your eyes widened. Who you thought to be Spencer crouched down next to you reaching out a hand. You loosened your grip on the other man's bicep and reached out to take his hand. That is when you decided it had to be your Spencer, because his hands were so cold, and he had the watch you bought him for his birthday the year before you left. Tears spilled over the edge as you fully let go and reached for Spencer. 
“Spence, it’s really you.” He couldn’t form any words so he just squeezed you tighter. 
— — — — 
You were sitting in a hospital bed looking out the window. It was early morning now, and you were sure you could hear your entire team busting down the hall. There was a quiet knock on the door, and in walked Spencer, and the team filing in behind him. You could tell JJ had cried by the redness of her nose. Penelope was wearing her brightest clothes, probably to try and lighten the mood. Emily and Rossi stood next to one another, and for a moment you thought they looked like parents. The other three you hadn’t met officially, well that was a lie. The tall dark haired man had helped you out of chains the day before. 
“Surprise!” you said half heartedly as you let out a water chuckle. “This was meant to be a fun surprise,  and I was supposed to meet you all under better circumstances.” you gesture to the three new BAU members. 
“I’m Luke,” one smiled while stretching out his hand as you attempted your best smile. You felt like you were in some kind of tv show, the rest of the team was watching your every move, and it all felt fake. 
“Tara Lewis, I’m glad to see you are recovering well physically.” And finally the man who saved you. He moved to shake your hand, but you pulled him down into an awkward hug. 
“Thank you.” It was quiet, but meaningful. He rubbed his hand up and down your back once in a comforting motion. 
“Of course.” And even though you had been through something so traumatic you were sure to never forget the feeling of his hands on your face, you realized how lucky you are to have your team, your family.
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