#thank you all for being so patient with me and my health
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The Only Truth... | Part Four
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader
The day Stalag VIIA is liberated ought to be one of pure celebration. Unfortunately, fate has other plans in store.
Warnings: Language, Angst, Death, Blood, Brief Battle, Serious Reader Injury [gunshot wound], POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, References to Christianity, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, Kissing, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.
Author’s Note: Thank you all ever so much for your patience! At last we come to the end of our tale. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Word Count: 6267
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The morning of Sunday, April 29, 1945, dawned cloudy but bright. The chill of early spring still hung in the air, your breath hanging from your lips as you ducked out into the tent to collect the clean yet still-unfolded laundry that had been awaiting your attention throughout the drama of the rainstorm. You had just managed to tuck it away into your room when Fitzgibbons arrived with a new book for you to read, a more recently published fantasy novel called The Hobbit, though you had other priorities before diving into it.
You had almost gotten away with your clandestine chores, rags folded, and three-quarters of the bandages rolled, when your former surgical technician appeared at your door, knocking on the frame with an admonishing look on his face.
“I see you’re taking it easy on your day off, Ma’am.”
Huffing in irritation at being caught, you shook your head. “I’m off my feet, Fitz, can’t we just call a truce?”
He made a non-committal noise before cracking a grin. “Actually came to ask a favor, so I’m thinking we can come to an agreement. Menzies,” his deliberate mispronunciation of the British Captain’s name made you roll your eyes affectionately, “ordered me to flush a wound using your make-shift tools and honestly, I cannot make heads or tails of what you’ve jerry-rigged.”
Biting back a laugh, you nodded quickly, well aware that your cobbled-together system was more than a little unorthodox and not at all surprised Menzies had not taken the time to ensure Fitzgibbons knew how it worked. “Certainly, let me walk you through it.”
Grabbing the laundry you had thus far folded, you made your way down the hall to collect the items from the supply desk and followed him to the bedside of a new patient. Introducing yourself warmly, you learned the man’s name was Michaels and he hailed from the frigid wilds of Canada.
“Fitz and I are going to use this here to flush that wound, alright?” You nodded to the nasty laceration on his calf, your makeshift instruments cradled in your arms.
“Sounds fine, Ma’am.” He nodded patiently, vowels clipped remarkably short in that efficient Canuck way of speaking.
“Alright so if you take this, Fitz.” You held out a funnel with a piece of tubing secured to it, watching the tech take it carefully.
The mundane calm of the morning was shattered by the sudden hum of an airplane engine, your eyes shooting to meet Fitzgibbons’ sharply moments before the eruption of gunfire.
“Everyone get down!” He shouted and you both lurched into motion to begin helping your patients from their cots onto the wooden planks of the tent platform, abandoning your instruments on Michaels’ cot.
Panic rising as you once again found yourself in a wildly unsafe place while under fire, you urged the men from their beds to get low, presenting smaller targets for the errant bullets that were punching holes through the canvas of the tent every so often. The cacophony outside only increased with the rumble of approaching vehicles – tanks quite possible given the depth of sound that carried across the camp – and you nearly tripped over your own feet in an effort to reach the last two patients who simply could not move on their own.
Heaving one, Sidhu from India, out of his cot and depositing him onto the floor, you were just sliding your arms beneath the shoulders of the last, Hernandez from Texas, when searing heat and pain punched into your side. Your arms and legs gave out beneath you instantly, your body collapsing atop the poor boy still on his cot, both of you gasping for breath. With a grunt of annoyance, you flung a hand back to your hip, eyes widening as your fingertips were quickly covered in a warm, slick fluid.
“M…Ma’am?!” Hernandez warbled from beneath you, watching as you lifted your fingers to inspect just what was going on, his face blanching at the unmistakable scarlet of blood. “Doc?! Medic!! Help!!!” He began to shriek all the words he knew to summon assistance, making you wince at the racket as you forced yourself to roll off him, crashing to the floor in a pile of uncooperative limbs.
Taking a moment to try and catch your breath, pulse rocketing at an alarming rate, you began to realize that no matter how long you lay there, things were not improving. In fact the situation was growing a lot more serious as a deep ache was settling into your right side and you could feel your clothes growing damper with blood by the second. Rolling onto your stomach, you had just begun to feebly pull yourself across the floor of the tent when the racket outside subsided momentarily, Hernandez’s cries summoning several sets of boots to run in your direction.
A great, external cheer erupted in the same moment you were lifted by many hands onto one of the recently vacated cots, Chalmers, Menzies and Fitzgibbons all hovering above you as they yanked at your shirt and pants to get at your wound. The striking similarity between your plight and that of Simms set your teeth on edge, tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden thought that this could really be it. You might very well die here in these filthy, mud-covered clothes while the rest of the camp cheered on outside.
“Keep breathing for me, Nurse. You’ve got an entry and an exit wound, you just stay with us now.” Chalmers barked firmly and you managed a brief nod despite the shakes that seemed to want to rattle your bones. “Fitz go find out if they’ve got a Medic with them – we need sulfa and plasma, and she needs an aid station and surgery.”
“Sir!” He replied before you heard his frantic footfalls leave the tent.
Menzies applied a ruthless amount of pressure to the front and back of your hip and it was all you could do not to wail pathetically at the lances of pain that shot through you. “I know, Nurse, I know. For your own good, now. Why’d you have to go and get yourself shot in the middle of our liberation, hm?”
“Libe.r.ation?” It was difficult to form the word, your mouth clumsy and filled with cotton, head buzzing with adrenaline and pain.
Your heart was beginning to lose its rhythm, stuttering and skipping beats every so often. Your medical training offered a whispered explanation of ‘blood loss’ which did nothing for the suffocating feeling of panic in your chest.
“Looks like your American Army showed up to bring you home, so let’s make sure you can get there alright?” Chalmers added firmly and you nodded again, trying to take deep breaths.
You were so close. They were right there.
What had started as a frigid day seemed to be growing colder, your fingers tips positively icy by the time you heard Fitzgibbons return, giving someone a rundown. The familiarity of it made your heart ache for a simpler time when the two of you were the ones saving people, taking them from danger to safety. Now you were the one in peril, finding it remarkably difficult to keep your eyes open. The unfamiliar face of a young man in an Army helmet came into view before you felt the sting of sulfa on your wounds.
Your left sleeve was rolled up, your nonsensical protests going unheeded as the man began to search for a vein, inserting an IV for the bottle of cheery yellow plasma – the bright color anachronistic to the monochromatic color palette that pervaded the Stalag. Bandages were wrapped tightly around your middle once more and they were just about to lift you, cot and all, when another set of heavy footfalls sounded on the floorboards.
“Jesus christ…angelfish…” Bucky’s voice was unmistakable, though anguished, and you rolled your head to the side to look at him with a weak smile.
“Bucky.” You managed to form his nickname at a volume no more than a whisper, vision narrowing in on his pinched, tight features, the normally rosy hue completely drained from his cheeks.
Suddenly everything tilted and whirled as your cot was hoisted onto the shoulders of Chalmers, Menzies, Fitzgibbons, and the Medic.
“Take the plasma, Egan. Hold it up, keep pace.” Chalmers ordered sharply and the ceiling of the tent began to blur as they rushed out into the daylight, your vision going completely white before all was darkness.
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The morning had seemed like any other, crowded around a small campfire trying to keep warm, trading suppositions about the end of the war with Jefferson, when the unmistakable sound of an aircraft engine had broken through the din of the camp.
“Hey Macon, that’s a P-51!” Jefferson had shouted and instantly the entire population was on their feet, cheering on the pilot as he took out on of the guard towers.
Their elation was short lived, the abrupt sound of incoming artillery sending all the prisoners into the dirt as every single German soldier seemed to open fire as one, the camp instantly an active battlefield. Bucky’s eyes strayed to the hospital tent, its canvas walls helplessly pinned between the encroaching American tanks and the defending German guards. They needed to put a stop to this from the inside before any more lives were needlessly lost. Even as this thought crossed his mind, men were falling all around him.
“Fellas! Take out the tower!” Bucky shouted as he ran for the tent where the majority of the Americans were sheltering, seeking out the homemade stars and stripes they had carefully crafted and transported from camp to camp, kept hidden from goons, just for such an occasion.
It took a few tries before Jefferson successfully came up with the flag, passing it to him quickly. Dashing through the chaos of prisoners running hither and thither through the camp, some fleeing, some fighting guards, Bucky was boosted onto the roof of the administration building. The flagpole was less than sturdy as he climbed it but as he removed the Nazi war flag and tossed it to the cheering crowd below, the guns fell quiet. Securing the ragtag American flag, watching the breeze immediately catch and fly it high, an immense feeling of relief wash through him and after taking a moment to celebrate, he pressed his forehead to the hand-hewn timber of the pole to soak in his gratitude for making it this far. Though the ragged appearance of his country’s flag undoubtedly mirrored his own.
As he carefully climbed down the rickety pole, his eyes caught on a somewhat familiar figure running frantically through the crowd toward the gate, moving against the flow of those milling around the yard, celebrating. The man’s shouts carried intermittently on the wind across the crowd and Bucky managed to pick out “Medic,” his heartrate picking up at the word “Nurse.” His stomach dropped when the word “shot” reached his ears.
“Angelfish.” He whispered and quickly scrambled his way off the roof, wincing a little at his rough landing, before he began to shove his own way through the oblivious celebrants towards the hospital.
Skidding to a stop on the threshold of the tent, he was startled to find all the patients cowering beneath their cots while you lay on one of their abandoned beds, a bloody mess surrounded by men frantically trying to save you.
“Jesus christ…angelfish…” He choked out, throat clenching painfully as your head lolled to the side, slightly unfocused eyes meeting his.
“Bucky.” Your faint whisper of his name propelled him forward, a frown settling over his features at the state of your clothes, wanting nothing more than to cover up the expanse of your abdomen and the scar on your arm – you surely hated to have that so prominently on display.
Chalmers’ sudden directive for him to manage the plasma grabbed his attention and he quickly grasped the glass bottle, holding it high as they lifted the entire bed to begin carrying you out of there.
“Just hold on, angelfish.” He rasped, heart lurching painfully as your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going slack.
Running alongside you to the gate despite the way his lungs ached, the crowd mercifully parted before their odd little group. A jeep was waiting with a stretcher strapped to the back, and Bucky watched helplessly as your unsettlingly limp form was transferred from the cot, the bottle of plasma wrenched from his fingers by the Medic before he perched atop your legs. As the vehicle took off, the Lieutenant Colonel of the armored division strode over sternly.
“How the devil did a nurse end up as a POW?” He demanded as Lieutenant Colonel Clark came to stand on Bucky’s right.
Chalmer’s sighed deeply before sharing what he knew of your story, of your arrival back in January including the fact that the Red Cross was informed through the usual process, and how you were housed separately in the hospital. As Fitzgibbons, the very same surgical technician you had earned your burns pulling out of your plane, filled in the rest of your service history, Bucky could only reflect on how little he really knew you. How short his time with you had actually amounted to be. Hell, he would not have even known your squadron number if it was not for that conversation right then.
“What a SNAFU.” The man muttered and Bucky could certainly see the resemblance of the man’s commanding officer, Patton, in him. “Well, let’s get this formal surrender over with so we can get these boys home.”
Clark nodded in return and Bucky shuffled back to sit heavily amongst the men of the 100th, waving off Brady’s look of concern. Watching the salutes and handshakes, he was completely numb, his thoughts miles away with wherever they had taken you, only able to hope against hope that their aid station was of the highest calibre.
Bucky had not resorted to prayer often throughout the war. Sure he had worn a crucifix and crossed himself reflexively when flying into a hail of flak, but conversations with higher beings had never been something he had put much stock in. Faced, now, with this gnawing feeling of helplessness, your very survival in the balance, it seemed like the only tool left at his disposal.
Crammed into the tent that night, shoulder-to-shoulder with his neighbors, he felt rusty and self-conscious as he addressed the god of his childhood Sunday school and fairly begged for you to make it. He stopped short of bargaining his own life away, but barely, before sleep overtook his aching body, the exertions of the day overtaking him.
As he found himself jostling in the back of a transport truck on his way to Paris the next day, handpicked by Lieutenant Colonel Clark to be among the first sent back to England, he could not help but feel as though he was being driven further and further away from you. It was near night by the time they pulled into the base and Bucky took his first warm shower in over a year, changing into a fresh uniform and feeling almost human. They were served white bread that might as well have been cake, with steak and eggs that were too rich for him to endure more than a few bites before he crawled into a remarkably clean bed and slept deeply, exhaustion winning out over his continuous concern for your well being.
Climbing into the belly of a B-17 for the first time in over eighteen months felt awkward and painful, the crew from the 100th consisting of unfamiliar replacements, the space feeling more cramped than it ever had as he wedged himself into the cockpit behind the pilot. The deep-seated terror he had desperately been trying to supress, his fear that Buck had not made it to safety despite their planning and the beating he had taken to distract the guards, surged to the fore of his mind. It competed ruthlessly with his anxiety over whether you were still drawing breath, the fact that he may have to face the truth of losing both of you leaving him silent and withdrawn as the plane took flight.
There was no immediate answer awaiting him at Thorpe Abbotts either, no familiar faces lining the tarmac – not even Lemmons was around, which struck him as unsettlingly odd. Making his way to the CO’s hut, his eyes at last landed on a familiar face as Herrmann emerged from one the equipment sheds.
“Hey Winks! Where is everybody? Guy comes back after a year-and-a-half and no one’s around?” He plastered on a playful smirk as the boy’s face broke out into a grin of astonishment, shaking his hand vigorously as he rushed over.
“Buck took Rosie, Douglass, Croz, and Kenny up on one of those mercy missions they’ve been practicing for, they should be back any time now, sir. Gosh it’s great to see you back here.”
Bucky’s attention immediately snagged on the first name Herrmann mentioned, finding it immensely difficult to continue listening as he exhaled half of the tension that had strangled him all the way across the English Chanel. “Good to be back, Winks. Think you can give me a lift?” He raised an eyebrow, desperate for a moment of levity.
With a quick nod, Herrmann was promptly driving him towards the control tower. The most difficult part of getting up there was making it past all the congratulatory pats and handshakes, but Bucky was able to pull off his surprise, the sound of Cleven’s voice over the radio going a long way to mending some of the deep wounds he was still sporting.
More handshakes and pats-on-the-back awaited him at the hardstand and it finally felt like he was back amongst the familiar faces of these men. He did not miss the way Cleven’s eyes were quietly scrutinizing him, however. The gratingly familiar feeling that his friend was looking right through him was undeniable as he joked and smiled with the boys who had never been imprisoned. Who had not endured the things they had. As the crowd around them thinned out, Bucky turned to watch Cleven pull out one of his toothpicks, sliding it between his molars in a familiar yet long-lost motion.
“So what you been up to since I left?” His friend asked.
Bucky swallowed and shrugged a little walking over to the jeep, Cleven immediately sliding into the passenger’s seat out of habit.
“That terrible, huh?” Cleven muttered and Bucky sighed as the vehicle roared to life.
“Ended up in Moosburg.” He started out slow, with simple facts. “Got a little hurt on the way, so Brady and Hambone took me to the hospital. Turns out there was a Nurse there, POW since January.”
The look of shock on his friend’s face registered in the corner of his eye and Bucky did not have the heart to fully face him.
“The German’s held a woman prisoner?” Cleven shook his head with a sigh of dismay.
“She got shot during the liberation, stray bullet. Medics from the armored division took her and I have no idea if she made it.” Now that he had started telling the story it all just came pouring out of him.
“You care about her more than just on moral grounds.” Cleven stated matter-of-factly and Bucky sighed as he pulled up in front of what used to be their hut.
Who knew if it still was.
“Yes.” He begrudgingly admitted, though his admission was addressed to the steering wheel.
There was a long, drawn-out silence, the incessant chirping of sparrows filling in the gap in conversation and Bucky realized he had not really heard a bird his entire time in captivity. His head snapped sharply to look at Cleven as he suddenly spoke again.
“If anyone can find someone in the chain of evacuation it’ll be Smokey.”
Bucky furrowed his brows a moment before it clicked. “Doc Stover? You think?”
Cleven shrugged. “He’s our best shot I guess.”
“Our…”
“Are you going to drive us to the hospital, or should I?”
A grin pulled at Bucky’s lips as he started the jeep back up and took a sharp U-turn, heading for the base hospital. He pretended not to notice the way his friend’s eyes lingered on the stiff movement of his body as he climbed out of the jeep – he was definitely sore but was most certainly not going to admit to it. The wards were just as populated as they had been in 1943, something he found rather infuriating. It was another feeling he tucked into a neat little package and shoved down to be ignored until a more convenient time. Or perhaps never to be acknowledged again.
Stover was easy to find, dressed in his white coat, just finishing his rounds.
“Majors, what can I do for you?” He gestured for them to follow him into his office and Bucky sank down into a chair heavily, once again ignoring another man’s assessing gaze on him.
“Well it’s an odd request really but…” He trailed off, hesitating as he smoothed his too-long hair, reflecting once again that he needed a proper haircut.
“We’re wondering if you might be able to track someone down for us. Someone who was injured at a camp in Moosburg and evacuated to an aid station.
Stover raised an eyebrow curiously. “One of your fellow POWs?”
“Something like…. well yeah, she is.” Bucky corrected himself midway through, watching the doctor’s eyebrows shoot up dramatically. “Flight Nurse from the 802nd MAES, POW at Moosburg since January of ’45, shot during liberation and taken to the aid station of Patton’s 3rd Army – armored division. Which division I don’t know.”
They watched as Stover quickly grabbed a pen and started jotting down the important details, including your name.
“How bad was she hurt?” Stover asked and Bucky swallowed tightly.
“I didn’t see it happen but there was a gunshot to her stomach somewhere. They got her on plasma quickly.” He added hopefully but Stover’s face remained grim.
“I can’t promise you anything Major Egan, it doesn’t sound particularly hopeful either, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded, leveraging himself out of the chair with a barely concealed wince.
“And what do you have going on?” Stover stayed seated, eyeing him expectantly.
Bucky noticed Cleven had not budged either, the bastard. Emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale, Bucky put his hands on his hips and shrugged.
“Couple of broken ribs, I’ll be alright.” He replied nonchalantly.
“And how old are these broken ribs?” Stover prodded and Bucky ignored Cleven’s pointed look up at him.
“Couple weeks, I’m halfway mended, just overdid it getting in the fort to come back.”
Stover rose from behind his desk and opened a cabinet, fetching a bottle and holding it out to him. “Aspirin, to keep you comfortable. Take two every four hours as long as you need. Come back if you run out.”
Bucky accepted the bottle with a nod of thanks, the memory of you scrounging up two rare pills for him in the Stalag flooding back, furrowing his brows. The things you could have done in a place like this with limitless supply.
“Thanks again, Doc.” Cleven’s expression of gratitude pierced through his reminiscing and Bucky nodded quickly, tucking the pills into his pocket before heading out quietly.
Accommodations were procured and there was not much for him to do around base aside from rest and learn how to eat properly once more. It took several days for any news of your condition to reach him, via Stover’s connections, but when the man pulled him into his office on the morning of the May 5, he was stunned to learn that not only were you alive, but that you had been air evacuated to Redgrave Hospital just thirty minutes away from Thorpe Abbotts.
You were safe. You were close.
“Seems they weren’t quite certain what to do with her, but as she serves under the Army Air Force, they sent her to our main hospital.” Bucky realized Stover was still talking and he shot him a warm grin before grasping his hand to shake firmly.
“Well I really appreciate your help, Doc. I’ve gotta…” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the door, desperate to make his way to you.
“Yeah, go…” He chuckled and shooed him out of his office.
No longer a squadron commander, Bucky technically did not have a jeep of his own to disappear with off base and so he was in the process of grabbing one of the stray bikes outside the control tower when Crosby emerged into the daylight, eyes squinting in fatigue at the brightness.
“Where are you off to Major?”
“Redgrave Hospital!” He replied brightly, watching the younger man blink.
“Sir that’s a good eleven miles, that’s a terrible idea with your ribs.”
Word seemed to have spread fast…
“Take my jeep, I’m not gonna need it today.”
“Croz, you are a lifesaver.” Bucky dropped the bike he had been wrangling to slap him on the back before diving into the jeep allotted for use by the Group Navigator. “I’ll be back!” He shouted, taking off in a spray of dust and gravel.
Turning onto the two-hundred-acre country estate, Redgrave Hospital, consisting of nearly forty Nissen huts, stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trees and landscaped green. As he pulled up to the headquarters of the hospital, Bucky quickly realized that the staff there were not nearly as excited to see him. In fact, they were downright reluctant to allow him in to visit you, but assured him that while you were ‘heavily medicated and resting’ you were still ‘on the mend.’
While relief still permeated his system, it was a new agony to have you so very close and yet still out of his reach. If they were not going to permit him as a regular visitor, Bucky realized he was going to have to get a lot more creative in order to lay his eyes on you, and until he did, there would be not real peace.
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Moments of clarity punctured through the blackness – a blur of trees, the flurry of activity of an aid station, the masked face of a surgeon speaking to you reassuringly, the heartbreakingly familiar interior of a C-47 – but it was not until you were settled in a bed inside a hospital with four walls, windows, and nurses that true cognizance really returned to you. Casting your eyes around the sterile, white space, you noted you were situated at the end of a row and walled off from other patients with a set of privacy screens. The most striking feature of this hospital was the very stern-faced Bucky parked in a chair to the left of your bed.
As you began to stir, his eyes lifted quickly to meet yours, some of the tension easing from his frame. “Have a good rest, angelfish?” he whispered, and you furrowed your brows up at him, so full of questions. “They got you on the good stuff don’t they.” He chuckled fondly, reaching out to brush his fingertips across your cheek tenderly.
“Kick a girl when she’s down, why don’t you.” You sighed, speech slightly slurred from pain medication and the dryness in your mouth, but still capable of using his own lines against him.
His resulting grin contained all the brilliance of the sun and made you look down with a self-satisfied smirk. Your eyes immediately fell on your exposed arms laying atop the blanket, the scarring along your left forearm lain bare for all to see. Jerking your hands back roughly, you clumsily tried to shove them beneath the covers despite the warmth on the ward. Bucky’s gentle tut before his hand came to rest atop yours halted your attempt.
“Shhh, you’re just fine you brave, beautiful woman. Stay right there.” He murmured as he laced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm to rest above the blanket. “You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”
Swallowing thickly, you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I think I’ve acquired a few more…” You sighed, the feeling of thick bandages padding your hip acutely registering as you spoke.
“Probably.” He nodded softly. “You also probably saved that boy Hernandez by taking the bullet, so I’d say they were well earned. Besides, they’ll make an excellent target for my mouth one day.”
Your soft smile transformed into a look of disbelief, your free hand rising to whack his shoulder gently. “John Clarence Egan.” You chided half-heartedly and he pressed his face to the side of your head where it lay propped up against several pillows, his heavy exhale ruffling through your hair. “We are in a hospital, and you are making inappropriate jokes.”
“Mmmm.” He hummed in agreement, stroking his thumb against yours affectionately.
“Which hospital is this, anyway?” You asked curiously, finding its curved roof and white walls lacked distinguishing features.
“Redgrave Hospital, you serve in the Army Air Force after all.” He pulled back slightly to answer.
“Redgrave…” you repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds awfully English.”
“Hit the nail on the head, angelfish. We made it.” Bucky’s lips brushed against your temple, and you smiled softly. “Despite our best efforts.” His teasing made you laugh softly, and you shook your head.
“If we’re in England, where’s the King?” You raised an eyebrow expectantly and he smirked, shaking his head.
“No King, unfortunately, but I did bring you this?” He reached behind him, pulling out a newspaper to lay across your lap.
“Victory in Europe.” You read the headline aloud, pausing a moment as the words sunk in before gasping and looking to him wide-eyed. “Truly?”
A look of solemn earnestness overtook his features and he nodded softly. “Truly. German army surrendered yesterday.”
You gulped roughly and looked back to ready to date of May 8, 1945, on the top of the paper – you had lost nearly nine days. You really had been so close, everyone had. And the fact that you were here, and others were not seemed so very arbitrary. Sighing heavily, you squeezed his hand gently.
“By the skin of our teeth.” You murmured thickly, looking up as a nurse shuffled past with a faint nod of acknowledgement before making a sharp about-face to come and check your vitals.
“How’re you feeling?” She asked you and you nodded slowly.
“I’m alright, thank you. Bit foggy but things are the clearest they’ve been in days.”
“I’m going to fetch the Doctor.” The nurse turned to eye Bucky sharply. “You’d best make yourself scarce.” She commented before continuing on her way.
“How on earth did you get in here?” You raised an eyebrow as you came to realize how unusual his presence was.
“Bought my way in with a few bottles of champagne – your flightless comrades are quite friendly if one knows the price.”
You coughed out a laugh as the comment made Nurses sound like some species of bird and his lips twitched into a smile, your eyes unable to look away from the soft, rosy skin of his mouth.
“Hey before you go…”
“Hmmm?” He turned to you, half risen from his chair.
“I don’t have the mental capacity to think of something self-deprecating right now, so can I just get a kiss?” You murmured before pursing your lips shyly.
His face transformed into a warm smile, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as the tips of his ears flushed pink. “I always said you just had to ask, angelfish.”
Echoing his smile, you turned your lips up expectantly as he braced his hand on the pillow beside your head, leaning in to gently brush his lips against yours, drawing a contented sigh from deep beneath your breastbone. Bucky’s lips pressed closer, a tender hum rumbling from his throat just as a sharp cough sounded from the end of the bed and he slowly pulled back with a rueful huff.
“Just checking her breathing, Doc.” Bucky grinned wolfishly as the man raised an eyebrow sharply. “She’s doing great.”
“Hn.” The doctor intoned, clearly unimpressed. “And how are your ribs doing, Major Egan?”
Inhaling sharply, you looked him over quickly, the litany of his injuries flooding back to you from your sub-conscious.
“Much better, thank you Doc. Who knew Smokey was such a gossip. Well, angelfish,” he brushed his knuckles down your cheek, “guess that’s my cue.”
Nodding slowly, wondering who on earth Smokey might be, you watched him leave before your Doctor took over, running through numerous checks with you before discussing the extent of your injury and the surgeries that had been performed to save your life. It was nothing short of remarkable, what they had thrown at you to prevent your death, the conversation a very sobering one. It would be a long road to recovery, and one, it turned out, you would mostly be taking back home in the United States.
After a week or so in Redgrave Hospital, you were deemed fit enough for transport back to the Zone of Interior for convalescence and recovery in a domestic hospital. Though the sympathetic nurses had not seen fit to permit Bucky onto the ward again, they had taken a shakily written note, the loss of strength you had suffered in just over a week was startling, and promised to deliver it to him. The trip via Prestwick to Greenland, then Newfoundland, and ultimately Grenier Field in New Hampshire felt luxurious on the much more spacious C-54. You were admitted to the Station Hospital there to continue your recovery and rehabilitation, enjoying phone calls with your family instead of delayed correspondence for a change.
It took two months for you to be fully back on your feet, back to yourself. The same amount of time, it seemed, for the 100th bomb group to be repatriated stateside. Freshly discharged and clad in a brand-new olive drab dress uniform, proudly bearing your silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia following your promotion and the ribbons from your two purple hearts, you had sweet-talked your way back onto the base. One of the more sympathetic MPs who had heard your story – admittedly there were few in New Hampshire who had not heard your story at this point – had not even protested your request. It seemed that fate saw fit to land Major John Egan in your life a second time, with Grenier Field the destination for his bomb group on their return flight.
Standing in the warm summer breeze, watching the sky for the silhouettes of their planes, it honestly felt odd to be wearing a skirt. The complexity of affixing your stockings to the straps of your garter belt had briefly made you long for the convenience of slacks, but with your properly cut and styled hair and feminine clothing you felt like an entirely new woman as you stood outside on the grass with the ground crew. Would Bucky even recognize you?
At last the distant droning of aircraft engines reached your, and everyone around you’s, ears, the shapes of B-17s multiplying on the horizon before they began to circle in for a landing. Honestly, there were so many of them you briefly doubted you would be able to find him with any manner of efficiency. Clamping a hand over your officer’s cap to hold it in place as a plane taxied onto a nearby hardstand, your eyes began to scan the crowd of men as they filtered past, surely headed for the mess hall or officer’s club. Catch a glimpse of those unmistakable ears, you stepped forward and called out to him.
“John Clarence Egan!”
His head whipped around so fast he nearly took out the man walking beside him.
“Do I really look so different in a skirt that you would walk right by me?” You teased fondly.
“Angelfish!”
His flight bag hit the asphalt with a sickening ‘crunch’ that had you worried for its contents, but the impact of his body against yours drove that thought quickly from your mind. Wrenching his cap from his head he tilted his face to nestle beneath the brim of yours and kiss you soundly. Distantly, you were aware of all manner of cheers and wolf-whistles from his comrades, but you were too busy clutching at his shoulders to truly mind.
“How did you-? What are you-? God, it’s good to see you.” He rambled before pressing his mouth against yours firmly, not even giving you the opportunity to reply.
Laughing brightly into the kiss, you became vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching much nearer and pulled back slowly, smiling fondly as Bucky’s lips made as if to chase yours, but his friend’s question interrupted him.
“You gonna introduce us, John?” A tall blond man with striking blue eyes and a pair of unsettlingly symmetrical facial scars asked sardonically.
Bucky cleared his throat and stepped back, though you noted his arm slid around your waist in a rather proprietary move. You found you did not mind in the least, particularly as your fully healed wound gave no protest of pain whatsoever.
“Angelfish, this Gale Cleven – call him Buck, Robert Rosenthal – Rosie, and Harry Crosby – Croz.” He followed up by introducing you by your full name.
“He give you that nickname, too?” The one he told you to call ‘Buck’ raised an eyebrow and you laughed.
“It’s a long story….”
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The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel, @jointherebellion215, @timetowastetime8, @mads-weasley
#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#major john egan x reader#john egan x you#john egan fic#john egan imagine#john egan#mota fanfic#masters of the air fanfiction
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Something about throwing up in bed just makes me go feral,, someone not making it to a meeting or something else in the morning, so a teammate or friend checks on them and they're fast asleep on their side with a pool of vomit on their sheets </3
#trying to start posting again#thank you all for being so patient with me and my health#emeto#emeto tw#tw: emeto#promptiehugs#sickfic#whump#whumpblr#fever whump#sickie#sickfic prompts#sickfic tropes#sick fanfic#emetophilia
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guys i promise im working on both TWOK and TEABG both chapters are over 5k :) slow but steady wins the race
#thank you all for being patient with me! my mental health and enjoyment of writing has improved sm lately#i Hope to have TWOK out soon; TEABG is being a little slower bc it’s comedy and my brain produces that SO slowly#but they’re happening! <3
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Sex Tutor
Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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“You’re my boyfriend, Zayne, not my doctor.”
You huff as he shakes out a multivitamin gummy into the palm of his hand to join the rest of your pills that you had been forgetting —neglecting— to take.
“Is it not a boyfriend’s duty to look after his girlfriend’s health? If so, I have no problem ending this relationship to reinstate you as my patient.” His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you huff again, this time louder than the last, and thrust your hand out so he can drop the pills and gummies into it. “Smart choice.”
He slides you a prepared glass of water, the condensation leaving a wet streak across the counter, and he wipes it up with a paper towel. Your fingers close around the glass as you go to take the first pill, only for his voice to make you freeze.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet? Taking those on an empty stomach will make you nauseous.” He’s moving towards the pantry before you can even answer.
You blink at his back as your thumb idly rubs at the white pill. “It will? Hm…” Maybe that’s why you had felt violently ill every time you took your medicine - you were a chronic breakfast-skipper. “No, I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Does homemade pancakes, eggs, and sausages sound fine to you?” Your mouth waters at the thought, and your stomach voices its approval with a low growl. “I’ll take as a yes.” His voice is amused as he turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, and you shoot a bashful smile his way before placing your pills a bit to the side so they’re out of the way.
“Do you even have time to make all that? You have a surgery this afternoon, don’t you?” A sudden wave of guilt comes crashing over you, and your eyebrows pull together as you watch him grab all the ingredients. Zayne took care of people at work all day, and nearly everyday, and now here he was taking care of you in the small slot of time he had to relax before being thrust back into work, and all because you’re adverse to taking a few pills.
“There’s plenty of time left before I have to head in and start preparing. Don’t worry.” He assures, and you prop your chin up on your fist with a quiet sigh, knowing it’s no use trying to convince him of anything different.
He works quickly yet efficiently as he prepares everything, his gaze drifting over to you every so often. Soon enough, your apartment is filled with the scent of a delicious smelling breakfast and a plate filled with food is being placed down in front of you along with a fork.
Zayne props his forearms on the marble of the island you’re sat at and nods towards your food. “Eat.”
“A please would be nice.”
“A thank you would be nice.”
“A kiss would be nice.”
“Would it?” A smile tugs at his lips, and you nod with a hum as you pick up your fork. “I think so, too. Perhaps I’ll give you one once your plate is empty and those pills are gone.”
“Pinky promise?” You hold your pinky out to him, and he gives a soft shake of his hair, black hair swishing as he lets out a soft chuckle and twines his finger with yours.
“You’re such a child sometimes.”
“I keep you young.” You cut off a section of your pancakes and stuff it into your mouth, the sweet taste of the syrup coating your tastebuds and making you sigh. “An yawt.” You say around a mouthful of food, and he raises a brow as he moves your glass of water closer to you, but not before using his evol to make it ice cold.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full - you’ll choke.”
You swallow before speaking, fork already moving to gather another bite.
“So? You’re a doctor, you can just give me the heimlich.” It’s his turn to sigh.
“Just eat your food.”
#zayne x reader#love and deep space x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne ilu <3 and imy <3 come home
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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊
♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader
｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡
♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?
♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -
meet up with your friend
shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets
doctor’s appointment
You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.
But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.
Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.
The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.
You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.
Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list
get some dessert for Zayne
And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.
☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊
“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.
It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.
You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.
“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.
Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.
“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”
You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.
With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.
Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...
“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.
Busted!
For like a hundredth time.
You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”
He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”
You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.
You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!
In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.
Zayne's voice fades into focus.
"Is everything okay?"
“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"
"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.
You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.
You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”
It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.
When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”
Right, the heat.
You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.
Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?
You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’
Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.
You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.
Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”
He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.
Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.
He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’
You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.
“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.
Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.
Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”
You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.
“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”
The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.
He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.
He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."
You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.
His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.
"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.
Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."
Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.
Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.
"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.
The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.
Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"
He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.
Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.
Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.
Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’
You shrug ‘Just pull out.’
‘That’s not very respo – ‘
‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.
He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.
Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.
‘Yes… I need you.’
With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.
His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.
'Zaynee-' you whine.
He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.
But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.
His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.
As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.
He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.
“Zayne - I'm close”
“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.
'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'
You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.
You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.
You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.
‘I’m gonna come soon –‘
You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’
His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.
His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.
His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.
After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”
You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”
“I can show you later.”
#my writing needs to be hornier#guess i'm back to writing#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne smut#love and deepspace smut#zayne x you#lads zayne
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so! it's been a year since i put never satisfied on hiatus, and 9 years since i started posting it, and rather than make you read everything if all you want to know is "when's it coming back?" the answer is still: don't know! but the answer has also shifted closer to "it isn't" the longer i've spent on break, and i think it's worth being up front about that.
i talked about it a little here a few weeks ago, but the long and short of it is that between taking on better paying work, writing better stories, and looking back at what i'd already done for never satisfied... i just don't think i want to continue it? the year off has been incredibly good for my mental health, and i can't see myself wanting to go back after the two-three years still ahead of me on my current project. that's not to say i never want to return to the characters or the concept, but if i did, i imagine it would be with something completely new, in a different form. after all, i started this comic when i was 21 years old, a lesbian, and a sophomore in college. i am now just shy of 30, a bi man, and overall a completely different person than i was, back when i was writing without a plan and putting all of my insecurities into the comic--insecurities i don't identify with anymore. lord i'm closer to rothart's age than i am to lucy's. hate that
anyway. you have all been extraordinarily kind for following never satisfied for as long as you have, for supporting it as much as you have, and being as patient as you have. whatever form never satisfied takes in the future (god willing, with a more cohesive story structure and A PLAN FOR THE ENDING, WHICH BY THE WAY I NEVER, EVER HAD) i hope to see you there!
in the meantime, as an update on where i'm at with the thing that made me stop working on NS: i finished it! all the pages for Hunger's Bite (if you remember it with a different title: no you don't) have been turned in and now it's just revisions and covers and then........ waiting a year until it can come out. because that's how it is in traditionally published graphic novels! nothing releases for a full year after you finished it! and you're even getting it earlier than was originally planned, because i'm a creature and finished it like three months ahead of schedule. i've also already started thumbnailing the sequel book which i can't talk about whatsoever and will now be working on that for the next two years and then HOPEFULLY the first book will have done well enough that i can sell a third! so you better buy it when it comes out next february!!!!!!
to ease you all into it, i wanted to do a little crossover to introduce the main characters. we have emery, whose design is fully and unintentionally just Seiji Again down to his color palette (but seiji would bully him if they met. like so hard. he's a wimp). then we have neeta, a girl who dreams of travel and cares deeply about worker's rights, and wick, a vampire agent investigating the mysterious and sinister new owner of the 1910s ocean liner emery and neeta call home. he's also gay. but sorry lucy, you aren't his type. you're not mean enough.
the best place to keep up with me these days is probably here, as this first book gets closer to release, i will probably be posting about it a lot. and i will certainly post about it here when there's an official release date and cover reveal! i hope you'll go read it. i really think if you liked never satisfied and its themes, you'll like hunger's bite!
thank you again for reading!!
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hey gamers, lets talk about where i’ve been
a few days ago i had a bad mental health breakdown, it was scary but resulted in me realising i need to get some professional help. luckily, i have a great support system of the best girlfriend you could ask for, and a wonderful mum who travelled across the country to be by my side and help me to get that help
after being away for a few days, i’m back and i’m gonna be working towards getting better. i’m going to continue being off the internet for a few more days until everything calms down as i’ve still not completely recovered mentally, but i wanted to post this to stop worry and to assure you all i’m okay!
also, to everyone who sent me nice messages through my tumblr ask box while i was away, thank you. i’ve been writing them all down today and they’ve been so lovely to read, i appreciate you all a lot always
thank you for being patient, i’ll be back soon
i’m gonna be okay, and so are you! it’s okay to have slip ups, recovery isn’t linear and you’re only human. we’ve got this okay?
love you gamers, and thank you ❤️
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Sun houses and fathers 🌞
Yoshitomi Nara
✨first post of 2024✨
take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.
*I use whole sign system -house system- for more certainty
9H: you’re learning constantly from your dad. he teaches you what he’ve learned through his life. he’s teaching you about his mindset, the origin of his beliefs, why he stands for them. he could be someone very religious or faithful, and through that faith he could have teach you things he know now. also, he could be really philosophical and probably has a fixation with politics, investing. he could seem very patient or is constantly worried trying to understand how he can help you.
10H: your dad could be someone really hardworking, who you could have seen work really hard through all this years, making sure you’re satisfied in the economic and study aspect. he could have not been present too much when you were growing up and when he showed up he was too strict, he probably wasn’t conscious or didn’t know how to approach you -could be bc they thought him to bottle up his emotions-. you could end up studying/working on the same career/field your dad’s in.
11H: your dad it’s okay with who you are, or what side you show to them🧐. you’re their fav or they left you. you could feel like the only child/you are. he could seem too disperse, take it how you want to. idk why but mostly of dads of sun 11H are younger than what’s expected. he’s permissive. you were a spoiled kid, that has to do with your dad. “dreams” that word is important, he had a lot of influence and power over yours, he could have destroyed them or making sure you have all the resources -depending on the aspects-.
12H: your dad won’t judge your decisions or you. he’ll be a support. he could have difficulties to put limits in a father-son relationship, you could have felt stressed when you’re seeing how your dad is being bullied by your siblings bc of that attitude. you could have being the one who is protecting them or you’re the more serious/introverted one in the dynamic. or the total opposite: he’s too strict and you had to be careful on how to act. there’s something that happened there… you two could share something obvious, an interest, physical appearance, an adjective, etc. something everyone can point out. also, you could feel a strong or subconscious connection with your dad’s sight of the family.
5H: idk why I have the feeling you didn’t saw your dad for a long time and then you saw him, I’m trying to express that your relationship with him it’s not constant. he could be explosive or impulsive. he could contradict himself so much. he could have had you without planning it/unexpected -you were a surprise for him 🤩-. could be that your parents were young when they had you and etc. that’s why you’re like an experiment 😭 your dad doesn’t know how to approach you and he has a temperament. emotions here are fiery, when each other express their emotions they don’t take a seat and have a chat with a cup of tea, they’ll say how they feel crying and screaming.
6H: your dad could have OCD, no, I’m lying, but he could be really fucked up about order. “thinks have to be like this, why you didn’t let me this at this time?” Or the total opposite, not in the middle. he could get sticker in his routine and if things are not how he planned he get stressed. a perfectionist. he could be strict or conservative. he’s sarcastic, that’s why you could be sarcastic too. he’s hardworking and also could help on campaigns and etc. at some point you could have helped him on working on his health. and you could be the one who end up taking care of him/being the sibling who spends more time with him.
♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.
♡ English is not my first language.
♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.
Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋
Do not copy. Please give me credits.
#astrology#astro observations#pinterest#astro posts#astro placements#astro notes#sun#whole sign system#12h sun#6h sun#birth chart
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Fix my reputation
Pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.
Tag: fake dating, slow burn, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play, smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praise
Chapter 1, chapter 2;
aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;
Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)
Word count: 11.3k
note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️
He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.
The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.
At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.
”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.
You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.
“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”
You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?
”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.
“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”
“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.
“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”
At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.
You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.
You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.
You felt kinda intimidated by him.
You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.
He intrigued you.
You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.
Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“
“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.
His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered
“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”
Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.
Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.
Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.
He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.
“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.
They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.
Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.
“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.
Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.
At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?
Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.
Check, check, check.
You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.
One of these included him.
Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.
The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.
Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.
You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?
No, the kiss.
The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.
Also, you didn’t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.
When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.
"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.
Of course it was not over.
He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.
Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.
You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.
Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”
Not as funny as she thought.
Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.
The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.
The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.
You were their only hope but you became the death of them.
Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.
An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.
“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.
”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.
”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.
”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.
You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.
Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?
“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.
You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.
“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.
”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.
You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.
“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”
“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.
She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.
“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented
“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.
You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.
“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”
“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?
“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”
Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”
“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”
You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?
”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.
“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”
”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.
“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.
”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.
”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”
“Well it kinda is–”
”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.
His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.
“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.
“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”
You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?
“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”
“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.
“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”
”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”
”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”
”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.
“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.
“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.
“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.
“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.
Did you just sign a pact with the devil?
He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.
“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.
You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.
“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.
“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.
“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.
“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.
”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.
”For the record, they are tasteless.”
He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.
”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”
Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”
You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.
Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.
The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.
You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked.
“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.
”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.
Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.
”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.
Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that?
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.
He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.
”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it.
“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him.
He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.
“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn.
“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.
In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.
“Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.
“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall.
You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams.
Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders.
”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!”
You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened?
What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying.
“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.
You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.
“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.
You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.
After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”
Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.
It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.
For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.
Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.
He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”
Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?
Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.
His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.
You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile.
You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.
“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.
You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.
His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"
“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”
"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”
You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.
You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.
His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.
”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.
You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.
The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."
You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.
Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.
“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.
“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.
“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”
“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.
”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.
A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”
You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.
“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.
You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”
“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.
”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”
Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”
His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?
He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.
His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.
“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.
It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.
So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.
Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.
As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him.
Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.
But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.
“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.
You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.
”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.
Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?
“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”
You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.
”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.
“He did what?”
“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”
Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.
“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.
You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?
“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.
“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.
“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.
“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”
“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.
You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.
“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.
“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.
“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.
“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”
“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”
“As the sun and the moon?”
“Maybe.”
The comparison did fit well.
One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.
Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.
Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.
Is the door locked? Am I safe here?
The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.
Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.
However, that was still his house.
Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.
Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.
You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.
“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”
So cheesy for what?
“You can’t avoid me forever.”
You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.
“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?
You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.
“Oh so you’re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”
You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?
“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.
“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.
“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.
Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.
You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”
“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.
“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.
He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”
You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.
“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.
“Just for show,” he echoed.
You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.
“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.
“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.
You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.
First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?
That was not what the script said.
You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.
At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.
The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.
“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,” you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.
Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.
The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.
“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.
“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.
“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.
“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.
The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.
“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.
“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.
“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.
Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.
He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.
“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.
“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.
Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.
“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”
Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.
“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.
“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.
You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”
“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”
“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.
“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”
The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?
“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”
“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.
“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.
“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.
Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.
“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”
“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.
“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”
“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.
“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.
You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.
“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”
“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”
“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.
You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.
“Why? Did it turn you on?”
His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.
“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.
The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.
“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.
He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.
“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.
This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.
“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.
Fuck. That was not your plan.
You can always get back to it.
“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.
I won.
”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.
His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.
You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.
His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.
“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”
That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.
You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.
He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.
But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.
“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.
“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.
You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.
Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”
Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?
Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.
Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.
Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?
“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.
Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.
“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.
It’s just one bite of the apple.
You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.
No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.
“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.
“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.
Oh.
You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.
His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.
That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.
“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.
What was he doing?
“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.
Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.
That was his revenge.
You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.
Self sabotaging.
“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.
Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.
Who?
“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.
“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”
Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.
He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.
Fuck him.
You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.
Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.
Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”
You sick bastard.
Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.
He won.
After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.
“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.
“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”
He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.
You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.
You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.
Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.
He is the forbidden fruit.
I am tempted by thee.
A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌
Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all
ask me questions here 💌
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#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#coryo x reader#the hunger games#coryo smut#lucy gray baird#coriolanus smut#billy the kid x reader#young coriolanus snow#politician coriolanus snow
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Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?
too good for me | leon kennedy x reader
pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender)
genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy!
word count: 2.7K? It's short!
notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!
🌀 read on ao3!
“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him.
You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere.
It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?
He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain.
He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?
“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.
Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself. “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”
“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”
You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight.
“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”
“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”
“We don’t really need to—”
“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”
“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”
He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”
You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.
He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…”
His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy?
You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead?
You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand.
“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"
Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words.
Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…
Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality?
Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway?
He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus.
Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life?
You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.
"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."
Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.
"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"
You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”
“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”
“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something.
“Hey, you can tell me.”
“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”
“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.”
You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”
He blinks. “Sorry?”
“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”
“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?”
“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat.
He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about.
"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."
“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”
“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”
“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.”
“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”
“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”
“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”
Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"
“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”
“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”
“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."
He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."
Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"
It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”
“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”
The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”
“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”
God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”
You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance.
“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”
Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”
It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”
“Okay. Coffee date it is.”
He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”
“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”
There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s. kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy fluff
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Since I've been talking about it here and have been asked about it, I want to give you all a short health update. The short version is, we've finally figured out why I'm so fatigued, and unfortunately, it's not gonna go away, and I can no longer do as much art as I want to.
I want to keep this short: Very basically, most of you know that I've been struggling with fatigue for over two years now, and that every doctor's been telling me that I'm actually perfectly healthy, even though I'm clearly not.
Now, after a year of running to different doctors in vain, I've been diagnosed with Crohn's Disease. This explains not only my fatigue, but also my funky digestive issues, bizarre eye inflammation and other stuff I've had for a while and just thought heal on its own eventually.
Since it's a chronic disease, it won't go away, but we hope that it'll at least get a bit better once this flare up has been treated. What this means for me, is that I can never go back to drawing for hours as I used to. As much as that hurts me, I have to come to terms with it. I want to put my time into finishing commissions now, and dedicating the energy I do have into my comic project, and anything else like fanart and other doodles is going to be completely up to the spurts of energy I occasionally get.
It's nothing new, you all know how little I've been posting over the last year and longer, but now we at least know why. I'm still here ofc, nothing really changes, I just have to adjust my personal life and get used to this.
I'm okay, the people treating me are very kind and helpful, and while I am genuinely very upset at the prospect of likely never feeling fully awake again, I am too relieved to finally have closure and start treatment to be sad right now. Gonna have to move forward, there's no other choice anyway.
Thank you for reading, and thank you for being patient with me. I'm a private person and I don't like sharing too much about medical shit on here, but I know lots of you struggle with fatigue too and had asked me about my progress in the past, and I wanted to make sure that you know the conclusion to that whole odyssey <3
Love you all, take good care, I wish you the Best!
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I Can't Lose You-Part 12
Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, mentions of doctors appointments, that's it!
Pairing: BangChan x Reader
Characters: All the boys except Chan, although Chan is mentioned, Reader
A/N: The reader needs a break!!! So here we are. This one is fluffy, it feels good to me. I hope you guys like it! Also, I am pretty sure I had two seizures in the last two days (At least). Thank you to everyone for being so patient. I will try to resume my Friday schedule. Thank you so much for your understanding and well wishes!!
ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.
ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.
I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE
Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE
Bin POV:
“Everyone ready to go?” I asked. Early in the morning the psychiatrist came in to talk to Y/N. They asked me to come in for a few seconds with Han. They let us know that they really didn’t want her anywhere near the house and to stay with at least Han and I, but it was preferable for most if not all of us to be there for at least the first week. The trauma tied to the 3 Racha house is just too much at this point, the doctors were also worried about Chan making the recovery even worse than it already is. Y/N agreed wholeheartedly and with that she was given follow up appointments.
Finally the latest blood tests came just before lunch and she was given a clean bill of health and an outpatient appointment for her OBGYN. Felix, Minho, I.N., and Hyunjin all went to the DanceRacha house to start prepping for us to head there. Felix texted me that he had a few surprises for her which made me smile, she needs a good surprise right about now.
I’m still worried about Y/N. The DanceRacha dorms are a good option, but I know that for me, I still have memories tied to Chris there. I’m wondering if that is exactly what she is thinking. I can’t help but worry about it. “Remember the deal with the doctors is for you to be away from that house and with your support system. Are you sure you don’t want a place of your own? I want you to be comfortable as you heal.”
“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N smiled at me. It was a reassuring one, as if she could read my mind. She and I always had this connection. Whenever I was feeling down she would pop in to see how I was doing.
I remember one time, it was maybe 3am and I was working on lyrics. They were risky, going double the speed of the song's beat, the technique is called ‘double time’ in rapping. Fast spitting rappers do it all the time, think Eminem and Busta Rhymes. It was my first time attempting it and I contemplated each and every syllable like a landmine. Writing it wasn't the issue, it was being able to deliver it while dancing. Those syllables take up a lot of air, not to mention the brutality that comes with dancing and singing at the same time. Our steps aren't insanely difficult, but they definitely take up oxygen like no one's business. So I'd get up, do push ups, jumping jacks, burpees, anything to get my heart rate up to about what it would be when performing, then I'd try to deliver the lines. Doing this is always painful, your body is screaming at you to stop talking, hunch over, and gasp for air. Obviously, we can't do that, so we try our hardest to build endurance. Some are like Chan, who sing while doing cardio (which is insane, by the way, I felt like I was dying when I tried it), some are like LeeKnow, packing on layer after layer of heavy clothing before and during dance practice, forcing the body to exert itself so much that when all of those layers are off, each movement and breath is a breeze (also insanity to do. It feels like working out in a sauna with a weighted, heated blanket on you). Me? I brute forced it.
Anyway, Y/N noticed that I was really getting obsessed with these lyrics and doing them so that I was as close to the line of unhuman speed crossed with physical activity as possible. I'm the fastest rapper in the 4th generation and I wanted to show why I was. Y/N came into my room and said,“Binnie, you need to trust yourself. You know what's best, you have the best instincts I've ever seen. Remember, if you're about to dive in a pool, don't think about the height of the diving board, clear your mind, and jump in. Don't think, just do.”
Even now, through all of this, you would think that a bond like that would be weakened, seeing her like that would make some pull away. It just brought me closer. I am in awe of her. The sheer will to live. The tenacity. The beauty in her broken parts know no bounds. It reminds me of ruins from ancient civilizations. Seeing the beauty in what was, and marveling at what is left. Only the strongest parts are left, the essence of that civilization. She is beyond anyone I've ever seen. Her capacity to love is beyond comprehension.
That's why I am so happy to know her. To really know her. To be the person she reaches for, to ground herself. She trusts me to be there. And I will be. Simply because it’s an honor to love her. Money isn't an object for her.
“Money isn’t a problem, would you like to be in a place of your own?” I asked again. I would spend my whole paycheck on her if I had the chance. She deserves to be spoiled.
“I still want to be at the other dorm, it’s familiar. For some reason I feel safe there. Is that okay?” She asked, looking at Seungmin. Little did she know that we had been talking about this for a bit before she woke up. We knew that pushing this topic on her would be too much, but at the same time, from what Seungmin told me, the doctors were never going to release her to the same house that Chris is in.
Seungmin chuckled, “Birdie, it’s not a problem, you have never not been welcome at my dorm, you know this,” he deadpanned. It is true…all of the boys over that house would get so excited as soon as they heard Y/N was coming over. They’d want to spend the entirety of the visit with her, a lot of the time they would start to pout if they felt she wasn't spending enough time with them. So when the idea came up their eyes lit up. Anywhere she goes, I'm not going anywhere.
“Okay then it’s settled.” I smiled at her, combing a stray strand out of her face. I’m happy that she’s finally getting out of here. She has been through so much in such a short amount of time. She needs to be left alone. I am scared for her. I want her to be safe, and worries keep on popping in my head. How do I protect her? What if saesangs get a whiff that something is wrong? What if the company tried to force her to stay with Chris? What if she takes him back? That part hurt. Seeing how badly she was hurt simply because he was being an asshole. Simply because he treated a diamond like sand on a decrepit shore. The thought made me shake with rage as I looked at the woman in front of me, she looked at me with furrowed brows, that brought me back to her.
Y/N looked into my eyes at that moment, like she was tapped into my brain. She gave my hand a squeeze as she said, “Binnie? What's wrong, talk to me…” she shyly played with my fingers. Her touch was feather light given the bruises that formed on my knuckles. I wanted to tell her the truth about them. My impulse to be honest, making the words bubble in my throat. Right behind the truth of what I'm feeling.
I wanted to tell her I love you, I wanted to tell you for so long. The minute I met you I fell for you, your soft voice, your booming laugh, your corny jokes. All of it. Not just the you before but the you now. I know life is going to be hard for you, I want to be there. I want to stand next to you and catch you whenever you need to collapse. I will give you everything I have. You deserve to know what real love is. I know Chris isn't good for you. You don't need this pain, this heartache, you don't deserve to be treated like an option. You are the one and only person I ever loved and will continue to love for the rest of my life. I want you to be happy, and if it's not with me that's okay. I just want you to know that he isn't the only option. I am just one person, I am sure thousands of men would line up and down city blocks just to see you, let alone have a chance with you. Instead I said “ just thinking.”
There is a time and a place for everything. Telling her right now could confuse her more, make her feel like I just want something from her. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. The fact that she has been used like this and thrown to the side, expected to all of a sudden tolerate the people that did that to her.
I saw the opportunity to draw attention away and I took it as I said “Seungmin, you have everything?”
“Yeah, we should be ready to go soon,” he said as he kept packing all of the random hoodies that were used as pillows when we stood overnight with her. It's been years since most of us slept in the same room as the others. Every few hours a nurse would come in to check on Y/N, sometimes startling her. Everytime that happened Seungmin and I would wake up. We aren't light sleepers in particular, but it was more reflexive than anything. The nurse would quietly remind her that she's safe and all of her boys are with her. No one is going to hurt or sneak up on her. It'd still take a little time for her to go back to bed. Seungmin and I would refuse to even close our eyes until her heart rate went back to resting and her body would be completely relaxed and limp.
Now that things are starting to simmer down I am wondering why Seungmin had this reaction. He's been very strong through it all and he is even going against his nature of just observing. I am wondering what it is that I don't know. I just want to be filled in. Seungmin isn't known for physical affection, instead opting for annoying people he loves until they inevitably get closer to the edge of insanity. It's an odd way to show love, but Seungmin has never been known for traditional methods.
So why is it that he’s calling her pet names and smiling at her that way? Did he always smile at her like that? It’s so comforting, almost endearing. More than anything she is sharing the look. Something definitely happened but I have no clue what.
“Angel, you have all the appointments and all of that?” I looked back to her and she smiled at me saying, “Yup, I just want out of here. It’s been crazy. I just want to cuddle with my boys and watch a movie.” I could feel the sincerity in her words.
It wasn’t too long after that when Han came with the wheelchair saying, “You’re chariot awaits.” I am still really worried about her. She still says the cramps are no joke. Her cravings are still everywhere too. When she asked the attending about it they explained that her body is still going to have those pregnancy cravings for at least a few more weeks. I could see the hint of sadness in her features when hearing that. The only thing I could imagine herself feeling is that it’s another reminder. A reminder of what could’ve been.
On our way to the house I could feel her excitement ramp up. I could hear her giggles as she listened to the radio. She waited and bounced at the redlights. I looked behind me and I saw everyone else in the car smiling lopsidedly as she giggled. Y/N wasn’t known for very big displays of excitement unless it was for something that she really really wanted or missed having.
I could see the color in her face, knowing that if Hannie and I didn’t do what we needed to do, this would not have been the case. Instead, I get to see her smile, feel her laugh a little more, and be thankful for every moment, I always was but now? It’s like I have a deeper love for her. She was already a part of me, but now she is like a vital organ, as odd as it sounds.
As I was in my own thoughts I heard a song play, it was one that I knew she loved. Immediately I felt her hand grab mine, which was on the shared arm rest. Usually if she wanted the armrest she would just nudge me until I relented and shared, but this was different. She laid her arm on top of mine, her hand interlocking with mine as she sang along to the song. I couldn’t help but think it belonged there. Touches are a part of her expression of comfortability. It’s how she communicates, which I happen to know all too well. This had more weight to it somehow. She felt like she knew that no matter what she’d be safe. Which was and still is true.
When we pulled around the corner we were met with balloons in her favorite color on the doorstep. Her eyes lit up as she said, “What’s this?” I just shrugged as I said, “I don’t know, Lix told me that he was up to something but I didn’t really know what.” As soon as we parked Y/N bounced as she waited for one of us to come around and help her.
I think that she was surprised at the fact that we had done anything, period. I know that she has a complex. She tends to feel like she isn’t worth the time. That was something that she told me in confidence one night. Every night she would cry herself to sleep for the better part of 2 and a half years. Hannie and I did not catch it until we started spending weekends with her.
One night I heard whimpering from their room, when I knocked I heard sniffles. I gently pushed the door open, I found her curled in a ball, crying looking at her phone. When I asked her what was wrong she just handed me the phone. On it was a text thread.
Y/N: hey are you coming home? It’s Friday and I wanted to watch a movie with you.
Channie❤️: Not this again, Y/N. I’m working, I don’t have time for this.
Y/N: You promised you’d take some days off every week, so you don’t burn out. You even said that those days are our days.
Channie❤️: Y/N the more you talk to me the longer I have to be in the studio. So you are causing me to be away longer because you can’t be patient.
Y/N: I haven’t seen you in weeks, Channie. You are always gone, I miss you and I feel alone… like you don’t care.
Channie❤️: bingo! You are right. I don’t care. My phone is getting turned off. Maybe then you’ll get the message that I don’t have time for you. Get some sleep, trust me, don’t wait up.
I held her all night that night, I dried her tears as she clung onto me for dear life. Like I said before, her love language is touch, so to literally be starved of that for weeks from her husband made me feel enraged. More than anything, I wanted to make her comfortable.
I wrapped her in a fluffy blanket of which I called ‘the Y/N burrito’. Then I picked her up while she giggled and placed her on the couch. We watched whatever she wanted. Early into the morning she started craving her favorite snack so we went out in pajamas, got the snacks, and had a movie marathon. It’s one of my favorite memories with her. She started off that night crying and ended it safe in my arms, snacks surrounding her as credits rolled on the T.V.
I brushed her hair back as I stared at her sleeping so peacefully on the couch. The credits created a dim and timid light as I wiped the chocolate from the corners of her mouth. It was about 6am when Chris walked in. He looked annoyed and just walked past us as if we were ghosts.
I recounted this as I saw the balloons, thinking that whatever is inside, she is going to love it.
Han was first to grab her. When Seungmin unlocked the door with the overnight bags slung over his shoulder we could hear a little gasp and some talking. Han held her hand as we walked.
“This is so sweet you guys didn’t have to,” she stopped at the balloons, looking at them as if they were the most precious diamonds she has ever seen. Then when we walked in she started sniffling.
Sitting on the couches were 6 pillow sized plushies, and one giant plushie. Y/N loves plushies, their textures calm her. What got her to cry though, was what each of them represented. The one giant plushie was an angel. The other 6 were a lioness, a crown, a bird, a sunflower , Anya, and the National flower of Korea, the mugunghwa, the symbol of eternal beauty, that one has to be Minho’s.
I have no clue where he even found some of these. Especially the lioness, that one represented I.N.’s nickname for her. Whenever anyone tried to mess with us he always said, “if you think the wolf is bad wait until the lioness hears about this.”
She started crying, “they…. They’re all my nicknames. The ones you gave me.” She immediately went to the angel and grabbed it, hugging it tightly as she cried.
My heart broke and swelled at the same time. She should never have to feel like anyone is going to abandon her. It makes me so sad to know that she was so scared of losing us. All because of one foolish and egotistical man. He deserves nothing, especially not her love. Yet she loved him anyway. That is the type of person that she is.
Felix came up to her and said, “I figured if one of us had to go out and you missed us, now you’ll have a piece of us with you. You won’t be alone, and we’ll always come back to you. So when we leave, you can hold on to them really tight and know that soon we’ll be there.” I could see the tears about to leave his eyes.
If anyone was able to do something this sweet for Y/N, it would be Felix. The way that he cares for her, comforts her, it’s like they share one mind. He knows that she loves plushies. Ones that are so soft she can just sink into them. Chris never really liked too many things in his room. So he always discouraged her from decorating with plushies. He also felt that, although they were cute, they had no place in an adult’s bedroom. Especially not a leader’s bedroom. Most of her plushies found residence in my room.
I had no problem holding onto them for her and sometimes she would even decorate my room with them. Every movie night, before Hannie and I came home, she would grab the plushies and throw them on Han’s bed. She’d decorate with them, with Hannie’s favorite holding a bag of Hannie’s snacks. She’d also have her favorite, she named it Ollie, and Gyu on the bed, with popcorn in the middle.
That always made me smile. That wherever Ollie went, so did Gyu. Whenever I would sleep in the same bed with her, I would grab Ollie and Gyu. One night she asked if she could hold Gyu for a bit. Usually I don’t let anyone touch him, but she isn’t anyone. Without hesitation I handed her Gyu and she handed me Ollie. I remember hearing her sigh with comfort as she talked to Gyu about me. How lucky Gyu must be to fall asleep next to me every night. She thanked him for comforting me and for allowing me to sleep soundly. Even on every tour, she would pack Ollie and Gyu for me to sleep with. The first time she did it, she wrote a note with it. ‘I’m going to miss you, but so is Ollie. I may not be able to go with you but Ollie can! Sleep well, have a great tour, I’ll see you soon Binnie!-Angel.’
She looked up at Felix, released the angel, and hugged him as she whimpered a bunch of tiny little “thank you’s” into his chest. I think she realized that all of us know that she is scared. We may not say it but we do. We know and we all love her so much. We are here for her. Even if we may not be there in person, there is no place we would rather be than being with her.
Felix held her and pulled back after a few minutes. He wiped her tears and he said, “come on sit, take a load off. The brownie batter is almost done… unless you want to help?” He smirked at her.
She practically dragged Felix to the kitchen and Minho yelled, “Yah, I’m not done in here!” She giggled and asked what he was doing. I came into the kitchen to see Minho tying tenderloin together. She was watching curiously as he worked. He said, “it is your first day home and we should celebrate that. I’m making beef wellington, and don’t worry I left out the mushrooms, replaced it with onions and carrots for you.”
“Really? Thank you Minho! This is going to be the best dinner, thank you!!” She bounced and kissed him on the cheek. His ears turned red as he said, “okokok go over there with Lix’ you guys can have the oven first since this needs to chill,” he kissed her forehead right before she bolted to help Lix. I couldn’t help but giggle at her as she breathed life into the room.
I could see that she was really touched that he said, ‘your first day home’. Those words meant that now she is home. This is her space as well as theirs, that will never change. I could see her trying to hold back tears as she baked. Once things were baking Lix’ plugged in the switch and we had a blast playing games while we waited for dinner to come around. After everything was baked and made, we all sat down for a nice dinner, like we used to in the shared dorms.
Right before we all sat down Y/N smiled and said, “thank you. To all of you. This experience was hard. It was the hardest thing that I have ever been through to date. It’s because of all of you that I made it. All of you mean so much to me. The thing that really scared me after all of this was what would happen if I lost you guys? My boys. I cherish every single memory with each of you. I love you boys so damn much, you are all my family. Seeing what you did,” she looked at me and Hannie, “Being so strong. Crying with me, holding me through it all.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. Resisting the urge to nudge into it like I always do.
She looked at everyone else, “The fear that each of you must have felt. I know I wasn’t the only one mourning and coming to terms with things.” I saw her look directly at Seungmin for a split second and went back to scanning the table, “I want to thank all of you so much. This experience was horrific. Because of all of you, I made it out. I love you boys so much. Thank you for welcoming me home.” With that, she sat down and leaned into me, I could tell she was either too nervous or embarrassed.
As we were eating and laughing she looked around the table. I sat down right to her left and Hannie was on her other side. I could tell she was doing her best not to cry. I think it was the same for the boys. Two days ago that wasn’t the case. She was fighting for her life around this time. To think that we would all be here, together, a family. It made me want to cry. This is the family that she deserves. Everyone she loves, at home, on time, together. She was so happy and before dessert came out Hyunjin said, “Yongbok-ah phase 2.” Then Felix went running to his room. He came out with a giant comforter and plopped on the living room floor. He then ran to Minho’s room, grabbed his comforter and plopped it down as well. At that point I.N. said, “Movie time! Everyone on the floor!”
Immediately everyone moved to the living room and got a spot except for me. I was helping wash dishes with Minho. When I walked in I could see Minho tearing up as we heard her giggle. I patted his back as I said, “what can I do to help, hyung?” He just shook his head a bit and asked me to help him with the drying. By the time we were almost done with that I heard Y/N calling my name and asking me to sit. I told her that I had to change into my pajamas first and I could hear her ask Lix if she could change in his room quickly. He of course obliged.
Slowly but surely everyone started changing and pretty soon everyone was sitting on the comfy comforters. I didn’t really know where to sit and Y/N looked at me saying, “I know you aren’t thinking about sitting away from me.” I didn’t want to make it seem like she needed to be next to me all of the time, thinking that I would come off as clingy but it’s nice to know that she craves my touch as well.
I sat down right next to her and everyone’s faces had giant smiles. I looked at her and she smirked as she held onto my bicep curling into me. This is one of my favorite places to be. Just next to her as she clings onto me like a Koala.
She was giggling as Felix handed out the brownie sundaes and everyone got comfy. Y/N decided on a comedy for the first movie and out of nowhere she asked me, “You guys were never going to leave me, were you?”
I just smiled at her and said, “Not in a million years. We love you, we always will. Nothing and no one will get in the way of that.” She gave me an indication that she wanted to be closer so I lifted my arm up, that way she could scooch closer to me. I could feel the tears through my sleep shirt as I held her.
“Thank you for not leaving me.” She said as quietly as she could. The truth is, she is someone that I need, someone that we all need. She is a unique type of person. After about two movies most had abandoned the comforter pile. By the early morning it was just me and Y/N. We were laying down on her new plushies. She took her place on my chest. Much like that night from years ago, I wiped the chocolate from her face and watched her form as she slept, credits rolling on the T.V. I smiled as she slept. I kissed her forehead and she intertwined her leg with mine. A few minutes later we fell asleep, with the promise of better days ahead.
#stray kids x female reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids angst#stray kids imagines#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x reader#bangchan#bang chan#changbin x reader#seo changbin#changbin#lee know#lee felix#spn#felix#skz angst#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz#han jisung#Aftermath of a miscarriage#skz fluff#stray kids fluff
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Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 2: Graduation)
Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?
Chapter Summary: Ditching Eddie and Chrissy might have been the best decision you ever made. You were now graduated, had a great group of friends and a new found confidence. But even though it was a great choice, you still felt a piece of your heart missing. With a few mysterious phone calls and a box full of things, maybe you were right in feeling a little cautious about your choice to leave the metalhead alone.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N
Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.
Word Count: 11.5k (SORRY)
A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THIS LITTLE STORY. Thank you for being patient with me as well. I was not anticipating in it taking a month to get this part out but I have had some health issues that really had to take precedent first before I could relax and start writing. Thank you so much to everyone who reached out to see if I was okay <3 I did just want to mention that after this part, I will NOT be adding a taglist. You are all so incredibly supportive but I have been (still) getting DMs and replies about being on the taglist and I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I will be making a masterlist and when I do make that, I will add everyone from the AH taglist <3 thank you for understanding!!
Prologue
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
June 1986
You had awaited this day for what seemed forever. You had planned what life after high school was going to look like for you since you were in middle school. Chrissy had infiltrated your plans as soon as you met; you often imagined the two of you moving to Indianapolis, or even to New York. You would get a shitty little apartment together and you would find jobs working in bookstores or coffee shops and have next to no money, but you would be together, and you would be on your own. Eddie also quickly ended up being part of your after school plans. He would move with you, or maybe get an apartment with Gareth and Jeff and then the five of you would go on adventures all over whatever city you overran. That was one of the things you loved the most about Eddie, his ability to find adventure wherever he went and whatever he was doing. Maybe there would be some opportunity for you and Eddie to finally get together-
The two people you never saw your life without were now but distant furniture in your mind. The past month brought you a lot of clarity. You actually hadn’t talked to either Eddie or Chrissy since the day after prom. Chrissy had come up to you the next day, pale face and dark circles around her eyes, but she still was glowing somehow. She laid her head next to your locker and greeted you with a lovestruck sigh.
“Wasn’t prom just an absolute dream?” You slammed your locker and rolled your eyes at her, which made her jump. “What’s up with you?” she pouted. “I want to tell you all about my magical night-”
“Yeah Chris. I know all about your magical night. Okay?” You snapped. She was taken aback. “Go talk about how magical your night was with someone else, got it?” You turned on your heel and walked away from the blonde. You were too angry to be sad. Too empowered to cower under her influence. You deserved better and you knew it.
“Woah, woah! What is going on? Did I do something?” she jogged after you. You let out a dry laugh and turned to face her.
“‘He only kissed you back because he felt bad for you” You mocked. Not breaking contact while the light drained from her eyes. Suddenly, her vision clouded with tears. In her drunken haze, she had forgotten the confrontation in the hallway. She knew she shouldn’t have said what she did. Deep down, she knew it was a lie, but she was too insecure to confront Eddie about his feelings for you. Driving you away was easier than her feeling like she was second best.
“Y/N I-”
“You know what Chrissy? I really thought that we were going to be friends forever. I really thought that you would have my back through thick and thin. But you showed me your true colors. You don’t care about me. If you did, you wouldn’t do what you did.”
“Did what I did? You kissed my boyfriend!” She yelped.
“Who you treat like shit, Chrissy! You kept him a secret so you could let Carver think that he had a chance of getting in your pants last night. You immediately took Eddie’s side when he told you what happened, and not trusting your best friend of over a decade.” She shook her head at you in disbelief
“A real friend would have been happy for me to find someone like Eddie - who makes me happy, and pulls away when he tries to kiss you.” She poked
“A real friend wouldn’t ever pursue a boy who I’m obviously in love with” It slipped out. You didn’t mean to tell her. You both stood staring at each other through wide, glassy eyes. You took a few breaths and your gaze hardened.
“I should have said this to you the night you kicked me out of your house. I should have said this to you last night when you let me down. You are a shitty friend, Chrissy Cunningham, and you’re a shitty person. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Before she had any time to respond, you turned and strutted to your next class. Your heart hurt, but it felt so good to be confident enough in yourself, to be able to tell her how you really feel. She was done growing and flourishing, you had just started.
Eddie was too cowardly to come talk to you about what happened. He was so painfully in love with you, he couldn’t stand to see you get hurt again. So he admired you from afar, secretly cheering you on, as Chissy now interlocked her arm with his down the hallways. He was tired of making wrong decisions so he let the decisions be made for him. He couldn’t help feel a pang of desperation as graduation grew closer and closer, and the one person he wanted to be around drifted further and further out of his reach.
You slipped on the scratchy green polyester gown, refusing to fasten your cap to your freshly curled hair until you got to the school. Your wedges felt foreign in comparison to your regular Reeboks and you were compulsively checking your compact mirror to ensure your lipstick was perfect. You were so excited to get the formal convocation over with to go party at Gareth’s house. You strolled into the gym to be greeted by a group of drama friends, you all shared niceties and took a few pictures with the polaroid you toted with you. You had formed a small circle of friends in the last month of classes. Although they weren’t Gareth’s cup of tea, he was happy to invite them to the afterparty if it meant that you had more incentive to be there with him. Since cutting off Eddie and Chrissy, you spend way more time in the theatre during lunches and with Gareth afterschool and before Hellfire. Old you would have hoped that Eddie saw and was jealous. New you didn’t give half a shit.
You heard a familiar voice call your name and as you craned your neck to make eye contact, you broke from the crowd to run into Gareth’s embrace.
“Wow, Emerson! Thought I would never see you in a cap and gown!” You teased, but beamed up at him.
“Shut up… You look great” he smiled back at you. You quickly took your camera from around your neck and held it up to get both of your faces in frame.
“One for the books” you quipped. He rubbed your back affectionately as the microphone on the stage squealed. You found your seat and begrudgingly put your cap on. As you scanned the chairs for any more friends, your eyes fell to the door, where Eddie and Chrissy came walking in hand-in-hand. As angry as you were, you were happy to see Eddie finally succeeding in graduating. It brought warmth to your cheeks and a small smile to your lips. What you didn’t expect is for him to make eye contact with you. You froze. His gaze was soft, almost yearning. He raised a hand to you and offered a small grin. You waved back, too stunned to smile. He looked good. He looked happy. It filled you with melancholy for a moment before you broke eye contact and put your thoughts back together. You were here to succeed for you. You had friends that loved and appreciated you for you. You were going to go run amuck in a new city and find other people who loved you. And it all started here and now. You were going to grab that diploma, get blasted, and get the hell out of Hawkins.
Your name was called and you walked across the stage. A louder-than-you-were-expecting applause erupted, along with whoops and hollers from Jeff and Gareth, and the hellfire freshmen that were in the audience. You bowed as your tassel was flipped and caught gorgeous brown eyes staring up at you again, clapping wildly and grinning. He was genuinely proud of you, you could tell. He was sorry, you could tell. When it was his turn to walk the stage, you were one of the few that clapped for him. But you stood up and gave him a loud cheer. You were proud of him, he could tell. As he hopped down from the stage, he ran up to Chrissy’s spot- where she held her diploma in her manicured hands - and picked her up. He planted a kiss on her lips while he ran out of the gym. As much as you have grown, you wished it was you he was kissing, carrying out. You let the thought leave as their silhouettes vanished. It was time to party and forget about feelings.
Gareth’s house was bustling. Music was blasting throughout the house and it was rattling in your ribcage. Your head was swimming with the ‘punch’ you had already consumed while playing flip cup and beer pong. You laughed with your friends, so truly glad to be able to forget about the impending doom of real life and have fun with your favorite people. You slinked your way through the crowd over to Gareth, who was tending the punch bowl. He smiled at you and handed you another solo cup.
“Having fun?” he asked. You wrapped your arm around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He threw his arm around your shoulders, putting a little too much weight on you. He was drunk as well. You giggled
“This is the best party. Thanks for hosting, Garebear” you slur.
“Woah woah, Garebear? Absolutely not.” he scolds, pulling away from you. You let out a full chuckle as you clink your cup with his and down your drink.
Your night progressed to telling embarrassing stories in the living room over a game of Jenga. Your head was spinning and as much as you liked this feeling of weightlessness, you were afraid you were going to drift away. You pushed off of the couch and weaved your way through the crowds to the back door. You slid open the screen and you were gratefully met with a cool summer breeze. It was still warm, but the wind gave you goosebumps. You sighed with content and closed your eyes as you leaned onto the deck’s banister.
“Having fun?”
Your eyes shot open and you looked over your right shoulder. In the shadows of the small outdoor light, you saw a tall, slender figure, and the outline of long, frizzy hair. Your smile faltered. He stepped into the light and took a drag from his cigarette
“Yeah, um… Sorry for disturbing you” you turned to walk back into the house
“Wait-” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you to him. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt like you were going to be sick. You were too close; Intoxicatingly close. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” You blurted out. He pulled his hands away and took a step back like you had burnt him. He looked guilty but sorrowful.
“Uh, we decided to go to different parties tonight.” He mumbled. You chuckled and glared into his soft brown eyes.
“So she didn’t want you to ruin the vibes of her ‘perfect party?”
“No, that’s not it! I just- I wanted to come here because… well because I miss you, and I miss hanging out in a group and I just wanted to come apologize, and, and I knew you wouldn’t hear me out if she was here too.” he panted. You could tell from his pleading eyes that he was serious. Your shoulders relaxed.
“Eddie, you don’t need to apologize to me, for anything. You got everything you’ve wanted. You graduated, and I am so, so proud of you for that. You got your band and your sheep. And… you have Chrissy. She’s a hot commodity... and you’re lucky to have each other. So you have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I hurt you-”
“And I’m over it. Look, I have no ill will against you, Eddie, but I think we just need to run in different circles for a while.” You murmured, eyes glued to your converse.
“I-is… is that what you really want?” Eddie took a step towards you.
NO “Yeah. I have a really great group of friends that love me for me. They don’t need anything else from me but me.”
“You’re still hanging around with Gareth, right?” Eddie hardens.
“Yeah. I am. He’s been the best friend I could ask for. He takes good care of me.”
“I’ll make sure he keeps taking care of you. I’ll kill him if he hurts you…”
“Save it, Eddie. I am so over your knight-in-shining-armor bullshit. You hurt me. You don’t get to decide who I hang out with or how I’m treated. You had a choice… You chose. So… deal with it.” The alcohol gave you more courage than you needed, but you weren’t mad. You were at peace. You turned and went back to the party. You didn’t realize, but that was just the way you needed to end your night. Closure and clarity. You returned to your spot beside Gareth to play another round of flip cup. Eddie selfishly couldn’t take his eyes off you. When he saw Gareth pick you up in a congratulatory hug, he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand picturing your story with Gareth and not him. So he slung back his last beer and stormed out the front door.
July 1986
The Hideout was never your favorite place to be. It looked like nothing more than a shack from the side of the highway that cut through Hawkins. Half of the lights on the neon side were burnt out, you doubted they had been changed since the joint opened in the 50s. The small bar had a few booths as well as tall bar tables, which were moved to create a makeshift dance floor in front of a dingy stage. The drum kit and microphones barely fit onto it, but you were sure that the ragtag group that made up Corroded Coffin would make it work. They always did before. There were three pool tables in the back of the space, behind the dark linoleum island bar. They had definitely seen better days, most of them missing pieces of velvet or pockets missing nets to catch balls underneath them. They were usually used for bikers or regulars to sit girls on them and make out. The bar smelt stale, like rotting wood, old beer and sweat. There are many places that you would rather be, but when your best friend begs you to make their regular crowd of 10-11 people (including staff) a person or two bigger, you go. Gareth treaded the idea of you coming to the show lightly, as you had not talked to their frontman since the graduation party. You felt no ill will and really didn’t mind being around him. You got your closure, and you were there for Gareth. No need to think too much into it.
You had seen Eddie around Hawkins in the last month. You had gotten a job at Family Video and would regularly work with Steve and Robin, who Eddie frequented. Your heart didn’t hurt when they talked about him anymore, and when he occasionally showed up to Family Video, or you saw him in Starcourt, or in the grocery store, you gave him the same curt but friendly smile every time. He understood the boundaries that you had given him. Friendly, but not friends. He always smiled back, but his heart sank. He missed you more than you could know.
You shuffled yourself into the closest booth to the stage and waited in soft anticipation. You hadn’t been to a Corroded Coffin show in months. It felt odd but familiar. You ordered yourself a rum and coke and absently sipped it as you listened to the Johnny Cash record that was playing on the jukebox.
You heard the door swing open behind you and a bubbly chuckle ring out through the bar. A sound that you definitely would not picture hearing in a place like this. You turned around to see Chrissy. Of course she would be here. Her strawberry blonde hair was curled in perfect ringlets and was held away from her face with a ribbon. Her long legs were framed perfectly under her light pink romper. Her waist beautifully cinched with a thick purple belt. Her lips were lusciously painted a glossy pink and her lashes were manicured to be wispy. She looked perfect, far too pretty to be here. Behind her followed Tiffany and Sarah. The trio picked a bar table that skirted the dance floor, across the bar from you. You, like most of the men in the building, followed their figures to their seats and Chrissy stole a glance at you. She looked at you and waved but you looked away, sinking a large gulp of your drink.
Chrissy had reveled in the fact that her prom stunt had secured her some extra attention for the last week or so of school. Everyone seemed to be talking about her in the hallways and although not all of it was good, she thought it was better to have people talking bad about you than not at all. Suddenly, all of the jocks were at her locker, or fighting to sit with her at lunch, desperate to show her that they were better than the freak she had somehow landed herself with. The attention shot her ego and popularity to an alltime high and she became the queen bee of Hawkins - there was no more sharing or cliques, everyone was under Chrissy’s spell. Everyone thought of her as either generous for going to prom with Eddie, or a down-to-earth girl next door because she kept associating herself with him. It made your stomach roll but she continued to smile sweetly at everyone in the hallway. She often let her gaze linger on you too long. She had everything she thought she wanted those last weeks of highschool. Everything but her best friend. And little did she know, the newfound fame didn’t reach beyond the month of June and the hallways of Hawkins High.
As she sat at her table, her manicured nails wagged at men who were ogling her from the bar behind her. She flashed a devious grin to her friends and waltzed over to the bar. You watched closely. Last time you had heard, she was still with Eddie… There's no other reason why she would be here. You heard her boisterous laugh once more as she strutted back to her table, a cocktail in her hand. You never would have thought that Chrissy would be the type to take advantage of anyone, but then again, in the past few months, you watched the person you thought you knew the best change into a stranger in front of you. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to the glass in your hand.
You suddenly heard the humm of an amp and the vibrations of a bass being strummed. You looked up to see your friends taking the stage; All but Eddie. You cheered excitedly for Jeff, Gareth and Tommy but your heart pounded wildly in anticipation for the lanky metalhead that was missing. The few stage lights flickered as the energy and volume of the instruments rose and they began their set. Right before he started singing, Eddie sprang onto stage. There sure wasn’t a huge crowd, but everyone cheered as he appeared. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the men perform, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s form. You felt your temperature rise what felt like 10 degrees. There was no doubt that he had charisma on stage, that is where he was born to be; But you felt all too emotional looking up at the man that you used to call your best friend. The man you thought that you might be in love with, the man that you thought you found closure with. You let yourself feel the waves of emotion flow through you with the music as you rocked back and forth with the rhythm. When applause erupted, you let your mind quiet with the music. The lights came back on and you grabbed your bag and your glass and got ready to return it to the bar. As you got up to leave, you noticed a gaggle of green letterman jackets had pushed their tables next to the one Chrissy and the girls were sitting at. Your anxiety spiked. You hadn’t talked to any of the jocks since prom and were fine with being the pariah of the group, but the fact that none of your friends were with you now made you feel nervous. You peered at the group from the other side of the bar and watched as Jason leaned in to whisper something into Chrissy’s ear. She slapped his arm playfully and giggled. You felt sick. You couldn’t wait for the boys to get their gear so you could say your goodbyes.
“Well, how’d ya like it?” The familiar voice instantly broke the tension in your body. You turned and gave Gareth a peck on the cheek.
“It was awesome, rockstar! You all were great” you say to Jeff and Tommy who were now sitting at the bar. They smiled and raised their fresh beers to you.
“So, you wanna get out of here? After party at my place. Got beer and the shit you like.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. As much as you wanted to celebrate their show, you needed quiet. You needed to just go home and shower off the gross conflicting feelings you had.
“As tempting as that sounds, I think I just need to go home tonight, Gar.” he studied your face. The sheer amount of time that you had spent with him meant he could read you like a book. He scanned the dingy room and found the source of your anxiety. His gaze hardened at the green jackets infiltrating their space.
“They better not have said or done anything to you, I’ll kill them-”
“No no no they didn’t, just weird to see them all here” you reassured. Both of your gazes softened as you found the dark battle jacket amongst the lettermen. Eddie was scoffing loudly and flailing his hands. After a fantastic show, you expected to see him beaming, but his face was set in a hard scowl.
Eddie was slowly losing his patience. He had practically begged Chrissy to come to his gig tonight. He knew that there would be potential for the Hideout to start paying them for regular gigs if they brought in a crowd, but this was the opposite of what he wanted. When he was on stage he met with two pairs of eyes, your beautiful bright eyes and her glazed over blue ones. He was disappointed to see one of them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the whole set. He had forgotten how much he missed having you in the crowd. He could feel your energy from 20 feet away. It made him want to perform better. When he looked over to Chrissy’s table, he lost his spark. She looked disinterested. She was busy gabbing to her friends the whole time. Then, when he saw the meatheads walk in, he wanted to jump right off the stage and end the gig right then. But he pushed because at least they would be helping their audience numbers. Once Eddie took a moment to mentally prepare himself in the green room after the show, he plastered on a fake smile and sauntered over to Chrissy. He went to give her a chaste peck, but she turned her face for him to kiss her cheek.
“My lipgloss, Ed!” She giggled. Eddie rolled his eyes, shot her a sickly sweet smile and planted his lips on her cheek. The girls sitting next to Chrissy oohed and ahhed and the jocks kept to their own conversation, but their presence seemed like it was to mock him. He instantly got caught in his own head, wondering if their intent really was malicious, or if he was just reliving past high school trauma. He was pulled out of his trance when Chrissy’s manicured hand pulled on the lapels of his vest.
“Hey, rockstar! I’m talking to you!” She teased. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
“Sorry, babe. What were you saying?”
“There’s a party out at Lover’s Lake, Jason’s parent’s cabin. Do you want to drop off your band stuff first then we can head out? We can grab some blankets and just sleep in the back of the van because I don’t know about you, but I want to be fully alone when we-” she blabbed, Eddie cut her off by taking her wrists in his hands.
“Woah, woah! I told you, the band is having their after party at Gareth’s house. You promised me we would be there. Come on, Chris.” Eddie pouted. She had been ditching him more often to go out with other people. He tried not to let his insecurities get the best of him, but it felt like he was losing her interest. This was something he wasn’t going to budge on. This was his night. She was supposed to be there for him. He couldn’t help but think that if it was you in Chrissy’s place, there wouldn’t even be a debate. He wouldn’t have even had to ask you to show up in the first place.
“Oh, come on. Don’t you want to go out to the cabin?” She searched for any kind of agreement she could get from any of the jocks. They either politely smiled at her or avoided her eye contact. The invitation was for Chrissy not Chrissy and Eddie. “It’s going to be, like a million times better than sitting in Derek’s-”
“Gareth’s” Eddie seethed.
“Gareth’s - whatever - Gareth’s dusty garage. It’ll be romantic. We can have the whole ride up there just you and me…” She cooed, she moved her lips to the lobe of Eddie’s ear “and I can tell you how wet you made me watching you up on that stage” she whispered. Eddie knew that he should be turned on. But he was so angry with her that he couldn’t oblige her. Not this time.
“I’m not budging, Chris. We need to go to the afterparty. I need to be there with my boys, too. We have cause to celebrate and this is really important to me.”
“But, Eddie…”
Eddie was tired of the games, he was fed up with her tonight.
“Either we go to Gareth’s together, or we won’t be seen at any parties anymore.” Eddie challenged. He hated that he had to give her an ultimatum but if that’s what it took., then so be it. He didn’t want to be the tag along. Not tonight. Chrissy’s stare hardened at her. He had never challenged her like that before.
“Alright, Munson. You win. We’ll go to your little party.” Eddie rolled his eyes and told Chrissy he was going to check in with the rest of the band to see what the plan was. She nodded and Eddie turned away, giving the rest of the table a tight smile. He moped his way over to where you and Gareth watched silently. He seemed to light up a bit when he saw your inviting smile.
“Hey, congrats rockstar. You did an amazing job up there” You wrapped a hand around Eddie’s bicep. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine at the contact.
“You think so? Thanks.” Eddie blushed. He was always one to be so sure of himself, this lack of confidence threw you off.
“Hell yeah I think so! It was the best show I have seen you guys do yet!” You exclaimed.
“Are you gonna come to the afterparty?” Eddie asked, hope splayed in a smile across his face.
“No, I gotta sit this one out. I have to open Family Video tomorrow.”
Eddie looked dejected. He was so happy to see you in the crowd, he had hoped he would be able to talk to you at the party and really apologize.
“Trust me dude, we’re all bummed. I’ve been trying to change her mind for the past 15 minutes. I even offered to call Robin to ask her to cover myself!” Gareth offers. You give the men a sorry smile.
“You’re gonna have a great time without me! It’s your night. Don’t let me ruin it.” God, you were so selfless. He couldn’t help but admire you in the dim light. So kind and so beautiful. It wasn’t fair how things ended between you. He was an ass. You turned away from him to walk to the door after sending kind waves to the band.
“Y/N” Eddie grabbed your wrist and pleaded with his chocolate eyes. You got lost in them almost immediately. You knew what you felt when he was on stage and you’re pretty sure he knew and felt it too. “Wait, please come to the-”
“Eddie! Are we going or what?” you hear a shrill voice from behind the man staring down at you. Chrissy looked pissed (in more ways than one). Her hands rested on her hips and she tapped her foot on the ground as she swayed. Eddie groaned and let go of you. The heat in your chest quickly faded. You peered around Eddie to smile tightly at the blonde. Her eyes widened and softened at your gesture. She slowly raised her hand to wave to you. You looked back to Eddie.
“You-you better go” you smile sadly at him. “You’re girl’s waiting for you. Have fun tonight, Eddie. Again, you deserve it.”
For the second time, Eddie watched you walk away and he fell into the impatient arms of a girl that he thought he loved. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your figure as you slipped out of the bar into your car.
As you got in, you let out a big sigh and punched your steering wheel. You knew you made the right choice by leaving and not entertaining anything with the man that trapped your heart all over again, but it would have been so easy to fall back into his arms and pretend like Chrissy didn’t exist. But you didn’t want to stoop to their levels. You didn’t want to get trapped in what was easy versus what was best for you. So you turned the key in the ignition and you quietly drove back to your apartment, retiring to a warm bath and a book, before crawling into bed and letting loneliness and the thought of Eddie on stage singing to you lull you to sleep.
September 1986
Your first summer of freedom did not follow the plan you thought you had perfected before graduating. Some of those things on your list looked similar, but with different people. You often went joyriding with Steve and Robin after closing Family Video and spent long nights out at Lover’s Lake with old drama club friends. It felt liberating that you didn’t feel a hope about a certain mop headed boy, even though you had been frequenting band practices and summer Hellfire meetings to casually see him as much as possible. You found some independence and even though you often felt lonely without Eddie and Chrissy, you knew you were doing fine without them.
You had just gotten home from a shift at Family Video. The last bit of humid summer air kissed your skin. You shrugged off your vest and other clothes and tossed them into your hamper before starting a steaming shower to wash away the day. You had been looking forward to treating yourself to a face mask, a steam and ending the night by curling up into bed with the newest Stephen King novel. You flopped down on your bed, dawning your favorite oversized tee shirt from your dad’s auto body shop and a pair of sleeper shorts. Your hair was tied loosely in a towel and your face felt clean and soft. You sighed with content as the night was finally yours. You don’t remember how long it took, but you dozed. You awoke to the record you had started playing being long hushed; your glassy eyes opened in accompaniment to the shrill ring of your phone. You grabbed at it and groggily answered. You were greeted by preppy sobs ringing through your ear.
“H-hello?”
“Y-Y/N” Chrissy wailed. You could smell the alcohol wrecking her through the phone. “I-I need you to tell me I’m not a bad person.”
You paused and almost laughed to yourself. “Chrissy, why are you calling me?”
“I, I just need someone to tell me that I am not a bad person, okay? No one likes me anymore.” You could hear hiccups between her sobs and shuffling from whatever party she was at.
“It’s late, Chrissy. You should go home and go to sleep-” You move to hang up the phone but her cry stops you.
“I did a really bad thing, Y/N and I need someone to tell me that I’m worth keeping around because no one likes me anymore. No one wants to talk to me and no one looks at me and I want boys to look at me and like me and-”
“Chrissy you have the boy that you love right now. What are you talking about? You have everything you could ever want…” You scoffed.
“Y/N, I, I don’t think I love Eddie. I don’t think I ever did.” Chrissy whispers. The phone stays quiet save for the party behind her. Her sniffles break the silence every few moments.
“What did you do, Chris?” Your head was spinning. How could she not love Eddie? One of the easiest people on the planet to love. He was the boy who knew how to make anyone feel special and wanted just by looking at them. He would drop anything and run to Chrissy if she ever needed anything and you knew that for a fact. You knew that he was eager to take others’ pain away and make it his to help. He was perfect, a treasure that deserved to be protected at all costs, not be treated like this. Eddie was probably alone in his trailer right now, worried about his girlfriend, or waiting to give her a ride home, while she’s calling you to tell you that she doesn’t love him? How dare she? You wanted to believe that the girl that you used to know was still in there somewhere. That Chrissy would never do anything to hurt someone that she cared about - even if she didn’t love him…
“Well.. there’s this party going on and, and all the old jocks are here you know? A-Aand Jason and I, well like we were always ‘will they won’t they’ you know? And i saw him at this party and Eddie was being a total jerk and didn’t want to come with me and he just doesn’t look at me like these guys do and-”
“What:” you scoff. “Like a piece of meat?”
“Y/N please. Like I am wanted, like I am attractive. Like I am a prize, okay? Eddie looks at me, but it doesn’t feel as good as when Jason or Andy or Patrick looks at me - like in high school-”
“Chrissy, that’s really fucked up and pathetic. Why are you calling me?”
“Because you’re my best friend - well, you were… and I-I-I miss you, I shouldn’t have stopped being your friend, and I’m sorry I let stupid Eddie come in between us.”
“Stop. Chrissy, Eddie didn’t come between you and me, You came between Eddie and I, and the shit you pulled was fucked up. So tell me what you want so I can get off the goddamn phone and I can rinse the disgusting feeling I have off for talking to you about this-”
“I cheated on Eddie”!” She blurted out. “I’ve been cheating on Eddie for months now. And I’m a bad person but it feels so good to be wanted, Y/N I can’t explain it.”
“I-I don’t know what you want me to say, Chrissy. That’s fucked up, even for you. You have been the lowest of fucking low, but I never thought you would be the type of person to totally fuck up your relationship like that. I don’t know why you wanted to call and tell me this, but I don’t feel sorry for you. Not in the slightest. Goodnight.” You slammed your receiver down on your phone and felt tears prick at your eyes. Not your Eddie. Eddie doesn’t deserve this. You sat in contemplative silence - unwilling to believe the conversation you had just happened.Your phone rang again and you jolted in panic.
“Hello” you whispered.
“Hey, Y/N… Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up” You heard his gruff voice and your breath hitched.
“E-Eddie, why are you calling me?”
“Sorry, sorry I just - I’m kind of freaking out because I haven’t heard from Chrissy in like three days and I just got a call from her I think and she was sobbing your name before the line went dead… I - I was just wondering if she had called you or if something happened I guess. This is stupid I shouldn’t have called you” He sounded exhausted and like he had been crying.
“Eddie, are you okay?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m just tired of these disappearing girlfriend tricks I keep getting fucking trapped in.” He lets out a dry chuckle.
“I don’t know where she is but I think I know where to find her… I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Okay?” You hear his long sigh over the phone and you wish that you could forget the boundaries that had built up between you and run to him. Tell him that you were there for him and kiss away his pain. Your heart was breaking for him (even though you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction… you had warned him.).
“Hey, Sweetheart?”
“What’s up, Eddie?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything-” you heard his voice crack.
“Eddie, it’s okay-”
“No. It’s not.” he cut you off. “I’m so sorry for the shitty person I had been. I fucked up one of the good things I had in my life because I got selfish, and in my own head. I never wanted to hurt you.. I - I just… I don’t know why I chose her. I wanted it to be you so badly, but I forced it.. And I just hope that I can convince you to be my friend again someday.”
“We’ll see what we can do, Ed.” with that you clicked your phone back to the receiver and threw on a flannel. Although you hadn’t been in quite some time, the only place that the meatheads frequented was the Carver residence on the other side of town. You never felt your place there, but you knew how to navigate it. You hastily started your car and set off for your destination.
Jason’s street was littered with abandoned station wagons and empty solo cups. You could hear the music blasting from the beginning of the cul de sac - your head already began to pound. You snaked your way to the end of the manicured driveway and slammed your car door shut. You trudged to the open front door, keeping your head down. As you passed through waves of people, you could feel stares into the back of your head and giggles of your name. You scowled and trained your eyes to search for a pair of tanned legs and a blonde ponytail. You paused in the kitchen, desperate to find Chrissy and your chance to leave when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and warm breath sneak up to your ear.
“I didn’t remember inviting you to my party… outcast” a baritone voice huffs.
“You didn’t, Carver… I’m picking something up and then I will be out of your hair. Don’t let me ruin your night.” You pull away from him but his grip on your waist becomes bruising.
“Aww, come on, outcast. Why don’t we party like we used to. You’ve been hanging out with the freaks for too long… Forgot how to have fun. Why don’t you let me show you what you’ve been missing, huh?” Jason spun you around so his piercing blue eyes were boring into yours.
“I would literally rather poke my eyes out with hot knives. Where’s Chrissy”
“Oh, god you really are a desperate frigid bitch, aren’t you? You know I didn’t want to believe Chrissy when she told me but, I guess she was right” The blonde sneered.
“Yeah, yeah, Jason. I get it. Go take your steroids and show the rest of your friends how manly you are… I’m not interested. Now do you know where I can find her, or did you lose the brain cells for facial recognition too?” Jason stared at you slack jawed, then his grin slid across his face. It made you sick.
“Well, when I left her an hour ago, she was - ahem - cleaning herself up in my room. Feel free to go look there if you’d like… But be warned, you might not like what you see up there.” He giggled. He brought his face into your cheek and your blood froze. He puckered his lips and planted them to the side of your face.
“It was… so good to see you again, Y/N. Glad to see you really did peak in high school… ugh and that says something, doesn’t it?” He breezed past you to leave you to physically recoil and regather. You wanted to turn around and leave… fuck Chrissy and fuck all of these people… but you had to do this for Eddie. You turned to the staircase facing the kitchen and pace up. Although it had been a long time since you had been in the Carver house, you still felt like you could clear the top floor in a good time. You past couples pressed against hallways and huddled into rooms. You hear giggles and beds creaking and girls crying, but no Chrissy.
You were ready to give up hope, having tried all of the door handles and being met with locked doors or your apologies for intruding. The last door at the end of the hallway opened as you went to reach for the door and you were met with the girl you had been searching for for the last ten minutes. Her eyes widened in horror and relief to see you. She looked like a mess. Her usually neat slicked ponytail was slated on the side of her head, flyaways crowning her. Her eyes were glazed over eyes were smudged black with mascara and eyeliner. Her flush in her cheeks made her intoxication very apparent and her lips were kiss-swollen and smudged. She sported one of Jason’s old Hawkins raglans in replacement of whatever tiny top she had worn to the party. You felt bad for her at first sight; pity running through your veins as her lips quivered. Her paused tears resumed as she wrapped you in a hug.
“Thank you so much for coming, Y/N. Thank you so much.” she sobbed.
“Yeah, Chris. This is fucked. Let’s go, okay?”
You guided the girl down the stairs and out of the house - refusing to look anywhere but the floor in case Jason returned to try and claim you as a prize again. Chrissy had blabbered nonsense all the way to the car while you tried to prevent her from going horizontal. You closed her door and paced back to your side of the car. You were greeted with silence and the smell of vodka.
“Who else, Chrissy?” you whispered.
“Wh-wha-”
“Who else did you fuck, Chrissy?!” you yelled, your eyes never left her figure, her eyes did not leave her feet.
“It was just Jason… tonight.”
“For fucks sake! Are you kidding me?”
“Can we just go? I know I’m a piece of shit okay? But some of us need the attention! Okay! I’m not alright with walking around feeling like I am fading away into no one and that no one cares who I am anymore! I want someone to look at me like other girls get looked at! I want to be like you where you can find other friends and you can go out and be effortlessly yourself and everyone loves you!”
“What the FUCK are you talking about? You have a boyfriend, Chrissy. He should be the one that makes you feel like that. HE looks at you like that! He is the one that you should be loving because he loves you!” Chrissy let out a dry laugh.
“Oh come on now, Y/N you and I both know he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t look at me like that because he is too busy looking at you like that! You had me and you had him and it wasn’t good enough! So we both needed to settle for second best! And I am just not okay with being second best anymore!”
“You are the one that gave me up for all your popular friends, you and Eddie both chose each other over me! And look who is here picking up the pieces after you handed yourself out to the basketball team, and while your own fucking boyfriend traverses the streets of Hawkins because he has no idea where you are! I was fucking right. You both deserve each other.” You shoved your car into drive and rolled your car into the road. Chrissy silently sobbed while you focused your eyes on the night ahead of you.
Your ride was long and awkward. When you pulled up to your house, Chrissy seemed surprised.
“I can’t let you go back to your house like this, Chris. We need to get you cleaned up.” She nodded a silent thank you and the two of you retreated to the second floor of your house. You got Chrissy a change of clothes and a toothbrush while she was in the shower and put her alcohol drenched outdfit in the wash. You waited for her in your room. When she sheepishly entered, you gestured to the bed you had made for her on the floor. She settled into her blankets and an awkward silence covered you once again.
“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me… I don’t deserve it.”
“I know, Chrissy. But you need someone to help you make a couple good decisions tonight. That was a fucking mess, at Jason’s” You heard her breath catch in her throat. “You have to tell Eddie what’s been going on, Chrissy. And he’s going to hate you. But you can’t do that to him. You might not love him but you and I both know that he deserves better than this.”
“I know,” she conceded quietly. You laid your head on your pillow. Your alarm clock read 3:39am. You tossed and turned in your sleep all night, pictures of Eddie’s heartbroken face haunting your dreams.
You awoke to Chrissy folding blankets and stacking pillows onto your dresser.
“Hey, morning. How are you feeling?” you croaked.
“Well, I’m here and that’s a way better place than I thought I was going to be staying” Chrissy chuckled dryly. “Thank you again for last night, Y/N. I really owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it. I just hope that if the roles were reversed you would do the same for me.” The air between you seemed palpable, it reminded you of when Chrissy would be doing the very same thing after a weekend long sleepover. You both gave each other testing smiles and short giggles.
You dropped Chrissy off after stopping to get coffee for the two of you. Chrissy looked at you apologetically and unclasped her seatbelt.
“Thanks for the ride” she offered
“Welcome. Good luck with Eddie” you mumbled. As badly as you felt for your old friend, you could not wait for her downfall. She didn’t deserve Eddie and he didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. But the light of old times seeping through the walls that you had rebuilt felt nice, even if it was artificial, fleeting. You flashed the girl a comforting smile.
“Thanks. I think I’m really going to need it. I really fucked up.” she looked down and began to pick at her nails.
“But this might be a learning lesson for you at least. I hate to say it but Karma can be a bitch sometimes.” you grab her wrist and squeeze. Your hands warm her veins and she relaxes into your touch. She pats you on the hand as she wriggles out of your car and trots to her door. She looks back at you before she closes the door behind you. She really stares into you as she raises a hand and waves. It was goodbye for good.
You got cut early from your shift at the video store.You were little to no help to the gorgeous head of hair working with you anyways. You tell Steve about your night, about Chrissy’s admissions and your call with Eddie. You were unsure of what your expectations were at this point. You call with Eddie shifted the dynamic of friendly strangers and you again found yourself battling between easy choices and choices that were good for you. Luckily for you, you were wasting time with Hawkin’s most eligible bachelor and love-life-advice solicitor.
“I don’t know, Y/N all I’m saying is there are so many guys in this town that would actually take you out and treat you right, you don’t deserve this shit” the boy quipped. You loved how honest Steve could be. He had quickly given you more examples of what a good friend looked like. “Like what about that Gareth kid?! Have you seen the way he looks at you? Worships the ground you walk on. Get a guy like that” Steve folds his hands on his hips. You scoff at him.
“Gareth and I are just friends. Trust me, we’ve gotten into all of that relationship stuff a long time before.” Steve’s eyes grew to saucers. You giggled. “It was one kiss this summer and both of us knew it wasn’t gonna happen, okay?” You rolled your eyes as you slid a box of freshly rewound tapes to him.
“Alright, alright - poor guy. I’m just saying. Munson? He should be old news. He and Chrissy deserve each other…”
“Maybe I should test drive a guy like you then, Harrington?” you sneered. He dropped the box, his back turned to you but you could tell his cheeks had flushed. “Or…Hargrove?”
“Hey!”
“Or-”
“Alright enough!” Steve chided. You suppressed your giggle. “You think you’re so funny, huh? I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“I know, Steve. Trust me, I wish I could move on. The two of them do deserve each other… But every time I think of them making up and going back to being good, it makes me want to rip my hair outI can’t stand it.”
“Damn kid. You really are down bad” Steve jabbed you in the side of the arm and you shrieked. “If you really feel that way then I guess you gotta let him know.”
“What if they do get back together and I laid it all out for nothing? Or what if I’m old news to him, Steve? I cant handle that…”
“Dude, if he makes the same mistake as he did at prom he won’t just have Gareth to deal with, okay? He’ll have me, Buckley and half of the Family Video clientele coming after him.” Steve glanced at the clock and gestured to the door. “Now get out of there and fix your bullshit life” he winks. Your smile lightens your whole face. You grab your bag from behind the counter and scurry out the door after planting a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He was left to the fluorescent aisles, shaking his head. You really did deserve better.
You pulled into your driveway, ready to spend the afternoon in Gareth’s backyard smoking weed and watching as many horror movies that you could before inevitably passing out. As you sauntered up to your door, you realized your plans for the day had been eviscerated. Sitting on your front step was a cardboard box that had been taped together neatly. Sitting on top of the box laid a note scrawled with purple ink:
“Y/N, I didn’t know who else to trust with this, and I am so sorry to ask.
Please take this box and give it to Eddie if you see him. I can’t bear to give it to him myself and I can’t tell anyone else about what I did.
Thank you for being such a good friend even when I didn’t deserve one.
Chrissy”
You let out a large sigh as you picked up the box and opened your door. You didn’t want to call Eddie, you were scared to find out how much he knew. Part of you wanted to leave the box on the doorstep for him to quietly pick up without notice, but you knew that your heart couldn’t handle knowing he was so close and you did nothing. So you picked up the receiver to your landline and dialed a familiar set of numbers.
“Hey champ! When you coming over?” A peppy boy answered.
“Hey, Gar. Something came up and I don’t think I can come over.”
“What did he do, Y/N?” Gareth’s tone hardened immediately. You could feel his anger radiating through the telephone.
“Nothing, it's more like what Chrissy did…” You spent the next half an hour telling Gareth about your encounters yesterday. Gareth huffed bitterly in response. Eddie Jeff and Gareth hadn’t been the same since their gig at the Hideout. Eddie began dodging band practice to be with Chrissy. He sacrificed DND campaigns and hellfire meetings to hide under the bleachers to go to the mall with Chrissy, or go to dinner with the jocks. Eddie became the most popular recluse. The three musketeers became strangers and the practices they had now - if any - were full of tension and unfamiliarity. Jeff and Gareth resented Eddie for the way his world revolved around Chrissy, and Eddie resented the two for not being happy for him, for not supporting him in what he wanted. In the middle was you. Eddie longed to be close to you again, but Jeff and Gareth refused to let him too close, you wouldn’t be hurt again, at least not on their watches. Although hostility ran high, all of you craved so much to be a group again, to be able to forgive and forget. But as all of you had figured out, that was much easier said than done.
“I’m coming over. I don’t want you to be alone when he shows up.”
“Gareth, I will be fine. I need to talk to him anyway” Your voice got quiet
“Talk to him about what?”
“I-I just need to know what happened between him and Chrissy. I need to know what that means for me, Gareth. I’m sick and tired of wondering if it could happen.”
“Y/N that’s a bad idea. We should just be done with him”
“I know, Gareth. He doesn’t deserve us. But I’m tired of being strong and stubborn. I just need to talk to him. I need to see him.” There was a silence over the phone. Gareth’ heart broke for you, but he knew that he couldn’t protect you from this.
“If anything happens, you give me a call and I will be over in 5 minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” You chuckle.
“Hey, now! I mean it”
“Gareth?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I love you, you know?” there was a loud sigh over the phone.
“Yeah I know. I love you too.”
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
“It has to be.” With a click, you were left to listen to the dial tone. You place your phone down and get yourself ready. You didn’t know when Eddie would be over, but you wanted to prepare before he did.
You sat in the shower until the water ran cold. Your skin felt scrubbed free from any imperfection, but it felt tight with stress. You forced yourself to make food but could barely eat. The rest of your evening consisted of staring at the same open page in your book while reruns of Match Game bled through the living room. The sun had set, along with the hopes that you would get closure tonight. Later, you heard the rattle of an engine outside accompanied by the thrash of Ozzy Ozbourne. You shot off the couch and toed your way to the front door. On the other side, you could hear a cacophony of swears and pacing footsteps. A few moments later, three hesitant knocks on your door. You took a couple of breaths and turned the handle. You were greeted with a tousled mop of hair and fair skin. His jeans hung low on his hips and he wore a thinning band t-shirt. His pale arms gripped his shoulders, flashing patches of inky figures across his forearms. His face, usually soft and blushing, looked pale. Dark circles encapsulated his coffee coloured irises. His nose was red and his lip was quivering. As awful as he looked, he was so tragically beautiful, like a muse. His lips still puckered and dared you to dart out and kiss them. His frame towered over yours and threatened to encapsulate you whole. You wanted nothing more. You gripped the inside of your doorframe in grounding, afraid you were going to evaporate into the cooling evening.
“Eddie, Hi” You squeaked. The boy looked dully at you as you took in his appearance. “I-I saw Chrissy’s note… the box is just inside I’ll-” You turned to leave but Eddie’s sigh held you in place.
“Fuck the box, Y/N” Eddies voice was just above a whisper. It rattled as if he were scared that if he spoke too loudly, the whole world would collapse in on him. His eyes lined with tears again. “What happened last night?” He demanded.
“I found her at a party… she had called me and, well I couldn’t just leave her there so…I took her home with me and she told me she was a bad person…” your eyes were trained to the floor. “I took her home in the morning and then the box was waiting for me after work, so you might have to fill in the rest of the blanks for me.”
“She fucked me over. That’s what happened! She went out and she fucked half the basketball team while I fucking waited for her to come back into my fucking arms! I tried to give her everything but nothing was ever good enough!” Eddie seethed. “ ‘I need more attention, Eddie’ or, ‘come out to this party, Eddie’ ‘ I want to do this instead, Eddie.’ ‘Why aren't you more like Jason, Eddie?’ FUCK I should have fucking known better, but I’m the fucking freak, I don’t get what I want. I don’t deserve to be happy because this is partially my fault too…” Eddie fisted at his hair while he paced on your front step.
“Eddie. I don’t know what to say-”
“You don’t need to say anything but I told you so. That’s what I fucking deserve. You shouldn’t be sitting here pitying me. You should be laughing at me” Eddie whimpered. You had never seen him so small, so fragile. You wanted to rub the tension out of his shoulders and kiss his furrowed brows until he looked like your Eddie again.
“Yeah but I’m not because I care about you Eddie.” You reach out to touch him but he pulls away like you burned him. “I’m really fucking sorry that this happened. No matter what I think of you, you don’t deserve this.” Eddie stopped in his tracks and trained his eyes on your meek figure. You shuddered when you looked up and made eye contact with him. Your eyes were wet and his eyes were pools of sorrow, But his gaze held a foreign glimmer to them. You let Eddie study you in silence.
“What can I do to make it better?”
“I… I don’t know, Eddie. That might be a conversation to have with Chrissy and you-”
“I’m not talking about me and Chrissy.” Eddie held his gaze on you as he stepped closer to you. He smelt of weed, beer and cheap aftershave.
“Eddie-”
Swiftly, the boy grabbed your cheeks and collapsed into you, smashing his lips with yours. As much as your brain screamed at you to push him off, your bones melted in with his, finally giving into the temptation that your body so desperately craved since your kiss in the theatre. Eddie’s weight moved you backwards into your house and he closed the door behind him. His hands migrated down your torso to your waist as he spun you to pin you back up against your front door. You moaned into his mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. Your hands found their way to Eddie’s chest and you gripped his shirt. He was shaking. It felt like there were only two of you. Kissing Eddie was the most natural thing to happen. Every move he made, your body had the perfect response. He gripped your hips as you slid your hands around his neck into his hair, earning a moan from the metalhead. A pit in your stomach formed at his lips vibrating against yours and you thought your legs would give out. Eddie pressed his body deeper into yours and you swore you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest. As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, you pulled yourself away from him, his eyes still closed and lips slightly parted, also very much in shock as to what had just happened. You gaze up at him as tears unwillingly spill down your cheeks. A mortified expression painted Eddie’s face, immediately thinking that he had overstepped again. He waited for a slap to the face or for you to push him away and begin yelling. But you looked up at him through your glassy eyes and his heart backflipped. His hands returned to your cheeks, thumbs desperately swiping at your tears.
“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Eddie, we can’t lie to each other. You and I both know I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time” a sad smile crept across your face.
“Fuck. I’ve been doing this wrong the whole time. I’ve wanted you this whole time, Y/N. This whole time, not a day has gone by where I wish I could go back to prom night and make the right choice. I am so fucking sorry.”
“I accept your apology, Eddie. But I don’t forgive you” Eddie’s heart sank. The flush he had earned left his face. His hands dropped to your wrists and he gripped tightly, like he was afraid you were going to disappear in front of him. “Not now at least. You fucked me up, Eddie. I waited for you and I watched you break my heart, and I will not be anyone’s second best ever again. I won’t be your second place again.” Eddie shook his head in understanding.
“What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”
“You can work on how to make good choices again, Ed. Be my friend first. Prove to me you deserve that. Because I am not okay with being a rebound either. Prove to me you want me and this isn’t just a way to get over Chrissy, because my heart can’t take it.” you sob into him and he wraps you into a hug.
“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s you. It’s always been you, and I will spend the rest of my days proving how much I need you.”
“Okay, Eddie. I believe you.” You pull away from him and step away from him. “But we can’t do that again.” You both were too afraid to say anything more, so you stood in silence, taking in each others’ space. Eddie then reached for the door.
“I, I should really go, I guess. I’m not sorry for kissing you, but I’m really sorry if it upset you.” You grab the hand that Eddie had on your front door.
“Eddie, I know you aren’t exactly sober right now, or in the right state of mind to really be alone. So as your friend, I would really like it if you stayed here tonight, so I know that you’re okay.”
“As a friend?”
You nodded firmly.
“I would really like that,” Eddie smiled softly at you.
“Let’s go put a movie on and try and get some sleep.” You grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him up to your bedroom. Eddie climbed onto your bed as you leaned over your TV and punched in The Shining. You joined Eddie on the bed, both of you under the farthest edges of the blanket, too scared to cross a thin boundary that had been set.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah, Ed?”
“I was wondering If I- If It would be okay, could I maybe hold you?” Eddie murmured into his lap that he was staring at. “I just feel really cold. I don’t mean anything by it I promise. I just need… to feel something good.”
Wordlessly, you shuffled over to the middle of the bed. Eddie followed suit. You slid down so your head leaned on his chest, his arm draped down your back, his fingers drew circles on your hip. Your arm wrapped around him as a silent reassurance that you were not going anywhere. The steady pounding of Eddie’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest quickly lulled you to sleep. Eddie spent next to no time watching Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, too busy studying every detail of your body that he could see. As he heard your soft sighs signaling you had fallen asleep, he silently cried into your temple.
Eddie Munson knew he was an idiot, that he fucked up. As much as his heart broke, he couldn’t help but be willing to break it over and over again if it meant that he got to call you his one day.
taglist: @mxcheese @anislabonis-love @zenathebeautiful @h-ness1944 @nymphetkoo @tlclick73 @darknesseddiem @nega-omega @them-cute-boys @eggo-segual @browneyes528 @ali-r3n @micheledawn1975 @partydulce @eddies-puppet @elvendria @itsjustwous @littlemisslovestoread @kjcmama @chloe-6123 @navs-bhat @loveforreading @thegirlthatsfalling @metalhead-succubus @moth-maam56 @ohmeg @secretdryrose @cloudroomblog @harmfulb1tch @buckybarnessweetheart @littlelunarfox @duncanhillscoffeecups @deathnote6666 @fangirling-galore @eddiesguitarskills @alexa4040 @arsonfrogger@sleepydragonx @batkin028 @eddiemunsonsgf22 @stairwaytozai@littlestarfighter03 @kimmi-kat@bleachbetch@sashaphantomhive@maybeitsthemoon @sluggzillaa @siriuslysmoking @littleesilvia @munsonssecretblog@dreamerjj @goth-cowgirl-03@middle-of-the-earth @idkatee@animechick555@hargrovesswifee@fall-myriad@foreveranexpatsposts
#eddie munson angst#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson x chrissy cunningham#first fanfic#eddie munson series#eddie munson hurt/comfort#eddie munson brainrot#eddie munson ff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson friends to lovers#chrissy cunningam ff#hawkins high#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson slow burn#eddie munson edit#eddie munson edit#eddie munson best friend#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fics#eddie munson love story#eddie munson smut#carly writes#angry heart#joseph quinn
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Sick as a Dog - S.Snape
Summary - She wasn't surprised when she got sick but she was surprised with how adamant her husband was for her to rest.
Pairings - Severus Snape x Professor!Reader
Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, sickness(cold), stress, lack of sleep, not eating right, mentions of food
Based off of this request by @ghulehh666 Thanks for the request!
Author's Note - Sorry for the nearly week long delay, my classes have been kicking my ass even though its only the second week. This is quite short once again because I started this last week and finished it today so I definitely lost my train of thought with this one.
Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!
My requests are open!
my masterlist
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged
Enjoy!
She wasn’t surprised when she ended up getting a cold. She had been working like a dog to get all of her grades done, she hadn’t been sleeping, she wasn’t eating right and she was stressed beyond belief. It was the perfect storm for a cold to take her out.
When she woke in the morning and couldn’t breathe out of her nose or swallow due to a sore throat. But, she got out of bed anyway, making her way back to her office to finish her grading. Once again skipping breakfast which raised alarm bells in her husband’s head once he realized her absence.
Severus knew that she wasn’t feeling well, she was snoring up a storm all night because of her blocked sinuses. She had woken him up a few times during the night but he would never tell her that. Like the good husband he is, he made her a plate and made his way to her office, just knowing that she’d be there. He found her sitting at her desk, surrounded by papers and tissues, sniffling and coughing excessively.
“Darling, go to bed, I’ll finish your grading,” He told her.
“No, I can do it, I’m fine,” she insisted without looking up, her nose so blocked up fine sounded like find.
“Y/N,” His voice deepened which caused her to look up. Her nose was chapped, her lips cracked and bloody, her eyes glassy and her skin was a few shade lighter than usual, “Go back to bed, I will finish your grading.”
“Can I just stay with you while you do it? I feel like we haven’t spent time together.”
“Fine, but only because I want to make sure you aren’t doing anything you’re not supposed to.”
They both knew that was a lie, Severus was the most touchy person she had met, he never not had a hand on her when they were together. Both of them were feeling touch-starved from working so much, choosing to enjoy being together even if she was ill. Severus had motioned for her to get up which she did, he took her spot in the chair and pulled her onto his lap. She picked on the food that he had brought her as he took to grading the rest of her papers. At some point, she had managed to fall asleep, her head falling back onto his shoulder, snoring away in his ear.
Severus chuckled as he finished grading her last assignment, gently waking her and leading her back to their shared quarters where they both could rest in the comfort of their bed. He took over playing nurse and made sure she was nursed back to health. Refusing to let her lift a finger and insisting she stay in bed.
Neither of them complaining because it meant endless cuddles and lots of quality time which they were both desperately needing.
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Limelight | Jake Kiszka x Reader | Part 1.
Word Count: 13.7k
Prologue
Chapter Warnings: Smoking the herb, Jakes kind of an asshole, kissing and making out. Slight mentions of poor mental health that could be triggering for some. Mentions of self pleasure (f).
A/N: Thank you for being patient with me while I put this story together for you meticulously. I cannot wait to continue to share this story with everyone and I truly hope you all enjoy the slow burn that is only part 1 of our dear series. Buckle up, we have quite the journey together. I have to give the biggest shout out to @joshym, my dear Elisabeth, this story would truly be nothing without your insight. Thank you for your undying support while I navigate this story and for helping me button it up to share with everyone.
Dear readers, as always, if I have forgotten to add something to my warnings or if there is anything that is triggering, please mention it so I can add such to my warning label.
Enough of me rambling, I hope you enjoy!
****
July 28th
STARCATCHER
Houston, TX.
Your alarm blared wildly at 3 am on a Monday morning to your dismay. You had barely slept unfortunately due to the dread of getting on a plane and meeting your new boss in about 13+ hours. Normally, when you are contracted with a new artist there’s a meet and greet between you to see how you would mesh together, to understand what your new boss is looking for in their assistant, what was a big no and what was a necessity. You took this part of your job very seriously.
When Brian informed you that the boys were already on the road and you could not meet in the safe haven of the office with Brian one seat away from you, your heart sank.
You were going into this new job knowing nothing about your boss other than what you were able to research on your own.
Jake Kiszka. A young guitarist seemingly at the height of his career with his brothers and his friend.
Your flight to Houston had ultimately gone faster than you wanted it to. Your anxiety grows more and more as you watch the time tick by on your phone screen. You tried your best to distract yourself with music and reading but found that trying to force your brain to not think about something only made it mock you and remind you about it more. Once you landed, you were immediately meeting with the band's current assistant Rose, who was coming to pick you up from the airport with a “runner”. You were going to be thrown to the wolves quite literally tonight. There was a show and you were told to be ready to go to the best of your ability.
Grabbing your bags off the carousel you walked to the doors in the busy airport, your lungs begging for fresh air after sitting in a stuffy plane for a few hours now. Stepping out you felt the Houston heat invade all your senses and looked to your left to see a short brown hair girl waving you down with a big smile in front of a white van. That must be Rose.
As you approached closer you got a good look at her features. You could describe her as a cute “mousey” looking girl. Small nose, adorable little smile, and a short bob with bangs which she tried her best to tie up and away from her neck.
“You must be Y/N!” She said, greeting you with a wider smile.
“That would be me!” You smiled back at her.
“Here let me help you with your bags.” You helped her pick up your very full suitcase and lay it in the van. You followed her into it shortly after you got your luggage situated. “Alright Chris, were ready to go!” She said, patting the headrest of the driver's seat. She turned to you and gave you a soft smile.
“So, Y/N! Tell me about yourself. I already know a bit from what Nick told me about you after connecting with your agency but tell me more!”
You softly giggled at the energy Rose was giving off. You knew you two would be fast friends.
“There's not much to tell honestly!” You really hated questions like this.
“Oh cmon, how did you get into the industry!” She sat a little closer to you as the van made a sharp turn.
“Let's just say my love for music really attracted me to this career choice. I have zero musical talent but I do love being around it. So I figured I would settle for the fun life of knowing what goes on backstage and working with artists one on one.”
“Ah, you're chasing after the limelight huh?” Rose grinned at you.
“The limelight scares me.” You both laugh.
After a few beats of silence and a quiet moment of watching the bustling city streets from your window Rose spoke up again. “You'll love the boys. They really are the most genuine down to earth men I have ever had the pleasure of working with. And you'll love Jake,” She winked at you once she had your attention. “He's a looker and a sweetheart.”
You blushed a bit thinking back to your wine fueled night when you went down a spiral into Greta Van Fleet on the internet.
“So,” Rose pulled out a little notebook. “Your main focus is Jake tonight, don't let any of the other boys try and con you into helping them out, they're probably going to ask you to do some ridiculous favors just to test you and get under your skin. Especially Joshua.” She rolled her eyes and smirked.
“I thought you said they were all sweethearts.” You snorted.
“They are, but they also all have an affinity for trouble. It seems to follow them everywhere.” She giggled. “I'll try to introduce you to Jake when we get to the venue and he can take it from there. I do apologize I cannot show you around much, we are a couple of hours away from the show now and my attention needs to be on Joshua as he can be quite the diva.”
You raised your eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes. “Don't ask.”
***
You had a brief moment to drop your bags off at one of the tour buses, which you watched immediately get placed into one of the compartment bins on the side. ‘There goes the promise of a shower and a comfy bed tonight’ You thought to yourself. You were running behind Rose attempting to keep up with her speed walking through the back doors of the venue into the noisy white brick halls, clearly on a mission.
“Were later than expected,” Rose said, her tone alarming as she glanced at her phone. “Were already past soundcheck, gosh I hope it went okay.” She muttered to herself.
“Here I got you a pass so you don't get thrown out of the venue.” Her tone lightened a bit but you could still see a hint of anxiety in her eyes. “You could easily pass off as one of the boys’ fans and we cant have security throwing out a newbie on day one.”
You took the little lithograph pass and hung the lanyard from your neck observing its intricate details in the picture. Rose had then given you her phone number and directed you to sit in a dressing room and wait to meet Jake, she apologized profusely that she had to go run off to tend to Josh and you waved her off, understanding that you were the one that was in the way today.
Sitting on the little loveseat in the room you took your time to observe your surroundings. The typical food and drink set up in an artist's dressing room caught your eye. So he likes wine, you noted that to yourself for future reference. You noted the neatly placed hairbrush, dyson air wrap, little make up bag. Your eyes finally settled on the silver suit hanging from the back of one of the doors in the room. You pulled your phone out of your little bag and sent a text to your roommate and parents letting them know you at least made it to the venue and you would catch up with them at a later time as you now had to prepare yourself for work mode.
Your silent moment was interrupted as a tall gentleman who you recognized as the boys’ manager Nick, walked through the door followed by the young guitarist himself. They clearly were in the middle of cracking a joke back and forth as the sound of laughter filled up the once peaceful room.
“Miss Y/N!” Nick waved towards you with a gesture. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece! Thank you for coming on such short notice, I understand this is moving quite quickly for you. Probably more than you're used to, no?”
You stood from your spot and extended your hand to shake Nicks. “It's no problem at all. I am a fast learner.”
“Love to hear that!” He stepped aside briefly and gestured towards the other man occupying the room. “And here is Jake!”
Jake. Everything you didn't expect and more, although you shouldn't have been surprised. You had only seen photos of Jake on stage when you were doing your “homework”. As you two got closer to one another, his bergamot cologne overpowered your senses but not in an unpleasant way. He was dressed casually. Almost too casually. A cut off shirt with another button down and jacket laid on top and a pair of way too baggy slacks hanging off of him and a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes from your view. His hair having a slight wave to it hung from his head.
“Hello Y/N.” He smiled softly at you and extended his hand out for you to shake. You just met the man and yet you already loved the way your name sounded coming from his mouth.
“Hi.” You heard your own voice squeak in your ears. Why am I like this? You internally rolled your eyes at yourself.
“Well,” Nick said. “I will leave you both to it. Show time soon Jake. Be ready.”
Jake nodded and saluted Nick as he walked out the door leaving you both alone. Timidly you watched as Jake waltzed around the dressing room comfortably, grabbing a corkscrew and picking up a bottle of wine from the selection displayed on a table in front of him.
“You drink?” He asked as he began to pour himself a gracious cup of the red liquid.
“Uh, yeah I do sometimes.”
“Would you like a glass?” He reached across the table in front of him to grab another plastic cup and gestured to you.
You waved him off immediately, “Oh no, no I'm okay thank you.”
“Cmon, have a bit of wine with me. It's customary when I meet someone to break into a bottle.” His sunglasses still hide his full face from your view.
“Maybe another time,” You sat down on the couch in the room and pulled a notepad out from your back pocket with a pen. “What do you need me to do for you tonight?”
Jake's eyebrows raised. “Suit yourself I guess.” He approached the vanity opposite where you were sitting and leaned back against it, one ankle crossing over the other.
“I suppose since we don't have much time I will get myself ready tonight as usual.” You could almost hear the hint of distaste in his mouth.
You watched his Adam's apple bob as he took a big gulp of wine. “I'll just need help with side stage stuff.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you writing that down?”
While his tone had a hint of curiosity you easily picked up on the scoff that passed his lips. What a prick..
“Just want to make sure I dont forget anything important is all. That a problem?” You challenged.
You watched as his eyebrows rose slightly over his sunglasses. “No.”
“So what is it that you need assistance with at the side stage this evening Mr.Kiszka.”
He smirked slightly. “Just need to make sure my towels are swapped out every few songs, make sure I have water nearby, and make sure this,” He gestured across the room to the display of wine. “To stay pretty full at all times.”
“Seems simple enough.” Your pen lifted off of the paper. “Anything else?”
Jake shook his head no and smirked at you. “Wanna read that list back to me or what?”
What a douche..
“I'm good thanks. Hey, you good here for a moment? I want to go grab something from my bag on the bus.”
He took another gulp of wine and you watched as his demeanor changed. “All good.”
You felt like you couldn't get out of that room fast enough, your anxiety taking over. But for what? Why exactly were you feeling like this? Was it the fact that you felt like you couldn't handle the workload given to you? The very minimal workload at that. That couldn't be the case. You had done so much more before this job, juggling multiple members of bands before as a stagehand. Maybe it had something to do with the rather attractive guitarist that you were now working for.
No no, stop thinking like that you just met him
He definitely was not what you had expected to be in person.
***
The countdown for show time came faster than you really wanted it to. You felt like you weren't even close to being prepared for what was ahead of you for the evening. Rose met back up with you again and pulled you along with her to the greenroom where the rest of the band had gathered to say a little prayer before walking to the stage. You picked up on a few things that were said, “May Josh's vocals shine bright, may Jake's guitar never fail, may Danny's drums not break, and let's pray that Sam's bass and mellotron carry us along for a journey.”
“Alright boys!” Rose said rather loudly next to you. “Time for stage!”
You were not yet prepared for all eyes landing on you at once and for some reason it made you feel rather small all at once.
“Boys, this is Y/N! Jake's new assistant. Be nice, we want to keep her around.” Rose gestured to you. You watched as chocolate eyes all were focused on you.
“Hey Y/N!” Everyone but Jake said in unison.
“This is Josh, Danny and Sam. You will have more time to chit chat and get to know them later on,” Rose said. “For right now, we are cutting it a bit too close for comfort so lets get a move on!”
Following the boys, security and Rose through the hallway that led to the venue you could hear the screams of anticipation in the background mixed in with the sound of classical music. You could feel a hint of nervousness and tension fill the air as the boys got their cue to enter the stage. This venue was huge, bigger than the ones you were used to seeing. The sound of screams from loyal fans going up an octave once they saw the boys enter the stage which prompted the rest of the venue to follow suit.
Nothing at all could have mentally prepared you for this moment, nor the events that followed.
***
Everything had gone terribly wrong.
You had managed to miss every one of Jake's stage cues. To your defense though, you didn't even know what those cues even were or what he had wanted. To further your frustration and embarrassment, you even had a roadie get mad at you and take over grabbing Jake a fresh towel and placing it within reach for Jake. By the time Jake had come off the main stage to go to B Stage in the back of the venue, he was glaring at you.
“Why don't you just go sit in the dressing room, you're clearly just in the way!”
You wanted nothing more than to hide away but Rose had come up to you after watching the little incident between you and Jake and encouraged you to stay, just stand stage side on the main stage and let Jake breathe it out. Your heart had been beating wildly in your chest and you couldn't wait for the show to finish to have a moment to yourself.
Rounding the corner your mind felt like it was a mess, buzzing away at a rapid pace with anxious thoughts. Were you made out for this? Smaller bands it was a breeze helping out and working for them, but this felt bigger than you anticipated. Jake seemed to get more and more frustrated with you as the show went on until that moment before the encore. You're praying to the heavens that your face doesn't give away the fact that you were crying, thankful you had packed your mascara into your little purse you had.
Backstage was buzzing with people. Everyone was currently packing up bins and rolling them to the buses, others shouting orders to one another and pointing in many different directions. The chaos was unnerving compared to earlier before the show. Walking down a long hallway you passed through a few curtains hung up for privacy between the dressing rooms when you heard him.
“This might have been a mistake.” Jake softly spoke to someone. “She managed to ruin every single thing that I needed tonight.”
Just let it go, you thought to yourself. It’s not worth getting upset over. He just had a long night.
You just tried to keep yourself busy, helping out in any way you could that didn’t leave you in everyone’s way.
But just as you had decided to pretend as though you were oblivious to his harsh words, it was what he said next that had you throwing that sentiment clear out of the window.
“I mean, Jesus. You’d have to be some kind of an idiot to not be able to handle something so simple.”
Idiot?
That was most definitely not going to sit comfortably with you. At that point, it wasn’t about “letting it go,” it suddenly became necessary to defend yourself to your new boss who felt the need to say such horrid things about you on your first fucking night.
Your eyes burned with tears of frustration and exhaustion after your long day. You burst through the black curtain and marched up to Jake.
“First of all, I just fucking got here and had no time to adjust to anything or learn anything about you or what you needed or where to find it.” Your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Second off we don't even know each other and you expect me to know you like the back of your hand? New flash Jake, I dont. So don't just blow me away and throw me to the curb because of one bad night and give me a damn chance.” Your chest was practically heaving by the time you were done speaking. Both Jake and the roadies eyes were wide as saucers staring at you.
Jake's mouth opened a few times but no words came out.
“How about instead of undermining me we sit down and actually talk about what you need from me and how I can actually do my job and in a week if I dont ‘have a grasp’ on anything and Im still fucking up? I'll leave you without a word and you won't have to hear from me again. Deal?”
The roadie Jake was speaking to failed to cover up a laugh with a fake cough and you shot him a glare. He glanced briefly at Jake whose eyes were locked on you with an unreadable expression and then turned away and left you two alone.
“Y/N, I-” Jake seemed to find his voice just as you started to walk away.
“Save it.” You shot back at him over your shoulder and muttered under your breath. “Fucking prick.”
Walking through the same black curtain you had burst through not moments ago you collided with someone who must've been standing close by. “Oh my god Im so sor-”
“That, that was fucking awesome.” Frontman Josh Kiszka himself was grinning wildly at you.
Your heart leapt out of your throat. “Jesus! Eavesdropping much?” You clenched a hand to your chest.
Josh laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder and began to lead you down the hallway, far away from Jake. “No one other than myself or my other brothers really stand up to Jakey boy. You're really giving him a run for his money. I like you!” He flashed you a wide grin.
“Im s-so sorry,” You stuttered. “That was so unprofessional of me to say-”
“No! It was not unprofessional, dont worry about it.” Josh's arm dropped from your shoulder. “Trust me, he's been such a prick these last few weeks he really needed someone to stick it to him other than his own family.”
You weren't listening to Josh and you were letting your anxiety get the best of you for the second time tonight. You could not lose another client due to a complication. As much as your boss stuck it out for you, you knew he was also not thrilled with your recent issues with the last band you worked with.
You broke away from Josh and sat in a rouge chair in one of the hallways and held your head in your hands to shield the tears that were beginning to bubble up again in your throat.
“Hey, Y/N right? That's your name?” Josh asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You nodded but refused to look up at him until he pulled your hands back from your face. “Give him some time. Like you suggested, just have the sit down with him and figure out what the hell he needs from you. But maybe save it for tomorrow? No offense, but you look like shit.”
You huffed a laugh and wiped the rouge tear that slipped down your cheek. “Gee, thanks.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” Josh's voice rang like a song and you felt him reach for your hands. “You seem like you've had quite the day my dear. Here, let me show you to the tour bus and your bunk! I'm assuming you will be riding with us since you're going to be hitched to Jake.”
“Your assumptions are correct, unfortunately.” You gave him a soft smile to which he returned.
“My twin definitely has quite the temper sometimes, let me tell you.” Josh sucked a breath between his teeth. “But I promise he's nice. Underneath all the mystery he likes to pretend he holds, he's easy going.”
“You're twins?” You were surprised.
“I'm five minutes older so I'm superior.” He threw you a wink.
“A superior pain in the ass.” Jake's voice rang out behind the two of you. Your breath caught in your throat again as you took a glance at the man who you had raised your voice at not nearly 15 minutes prior.
He had apparently showered in a short span of time and his hair was dripping onto his soft beige button up he was now sporting. His eyes were hidden by the same pair of sunglasses from earlier and you watched as he slung the backpack he was carrying over his shoulder.
“Don't you have somewhere else to be?” Josh rolled his eyes. “Come now Y/N, were almost there.”
“Don't go stealing my assistant now.” Jake shot back at his twin and Josh just shook his head. Clearly there was some twin telepathy that you were missing as you felt the tension between the two rise.
For a moment there was uncomfortable silence held between the three of you and you did not have the heart to speak up. That silence was quickly broken by the sound of diesel engines roaring in the distance and the footsteps of the twins as you walked in between them. Your arms crossed against your chest again, a sign of defensiveness and protection around the strangers you had just met only hours prior. You three walked through a wide entrance into a huge garage lined with at least 8 buses. Chaos was ahead as you watched workers and roadies buzz about getting things packed into different compartments and wheeled to their respective places.
Jake's pace sped up and he weaseled his way around you and Josh who were now walking side by side. You watched as Jake got on one of the tour buses and disappeared deeper into it without another word to either of you or the workers around.
Josh sighed next to you and grabbed your hand briefly and you both stopped walking. “Listen, if he gives you a lot of trouble, come find me. Or Sam. Or Danny. We will keep Jake in check. You seem like a really nice girl and already a great addition to the team. Don't let him get under your skin. He will come around.”
“But Josh, you barely know me. I feel like I messed up big tonight and-”
Josh held a hand up to stop you from talking which you obeyed. “I don't believe that. Give yourself a chance. I can tell you have the vigor and the right attitude to do this job and I expect we will see great things from you. Plus we have all the time in the world to get to know each other” He winked at you and bumped you with his elbow.
“Thank you Josh.” You smiled softly.
“Anytime.” He held his arms open for a hug which you graciously accepted. “Now let's get you settled on the bus yeah?”
***
July 29th.
Denver, CO.
You awoke to the sound of multiple voices talking back and forth and the sound of shuffling feet and bags. The clear ring of Josh's laugh falling through the tight hallway of the tour bus bunks. You rubbed your eyes and reached for your phone out of the side pocket of the bunk.
10:44 AM
Your moment of peace in your secluded bunk was disrupted by a small pull on the drapes of your bunk and you shielded your eyes from the bright light coming from the overhead lights.
“Rise and shine sleepy head,” Rose smiled at you softly. “Duty awaits.”
Rose was gracious enough to re-close the drapes to your bunk to shield you from the prying eyes of anyone walking past to exit the bus. You quickly gathered your water bottle phone and charger and pulled the curtains back, still feeling groggy and not processing your surroundings. You realized pretty quickly that having a moment to sit in peace and quiet was not an option as you made eye contact with Jake's reflective sunglasses lenses and Danny's smirk, the aisle of people sitting at a stand still similar to the aisle of a plane.
“Well well, looks like someone got a good night's sleep.” Danny said, smiling at you and gesturing to your head.
You felt your hair with your hands, a clear rat's nest on one side of your head and then noticed the feeling of drool on the side of your mouth. Your eyes widened, horrified and you pulled the curtain closed again to hide from the men standing eye level right next to you. An absolutely horrifying experience as you heard the two giggle and mutter something along the lines of ‘I remember when I used to crash in bus bunks like that.’ ‘I remember when I had my first real night's sleep.’
You wished at that moment that you could curl up and cease to exist.
What a way to start a day.
Voices and the sound of feet got further away in a few moments and you peeked your head out of the curtain and saw the coast was clear enough for you to finally crawl out of your tour bus coffin and seize the day ahead of you.
After gathering your necessities and locating your bookbag tucked away in a random corner on a couch, you walked off the bus which was located in a back parking lot of a hotel and you were met with Rose once again awaiting your arrival. “Here, I grabbed your suitcase for you. I'm sorry, I should've told you to keep your book bag stocked last night, at least for small items like your hairbrush for the bus. That was my fault.”
You grimaced as you were trying to work out the knots in your hair with your fingers. “It's no worries, I think I was too tired to properly function anyways yesterday to even consider it.”
“Get used to it kiddo,” She began walking towards the hotel. “You will have to learn how to thrive on no sleep with these hooligans. They will surely give you a run for your money.”
“Were not all that terrible!” Danny had caught up with you and Rose.
“That might be the best joke I have heard all week!” Rose said.
Danny covered his heart with his hand. “I'm wounded Rose, I'm wounded real deep.”
Rose rolled her eyes and looked back at you as she approached the front doors of the hotel. “I already gathered everyone's room keys and checked the team in, something one day you and I will hopefully switch off on because it can be a lot of work.” You watched Danny grab a hotel key from Rose's hand, you weren't even sure where she pulled it from.
“You will be rooming with me for most of this tour so we can assist each other with duties. Even though you primarily work with Jake it will be easier for me to help you with things from time to time to make sure we are all on the same page with the band.”
You nodded at her in agreement and followed her into the hotel elevator.
“I wanted to apologize for last night. I really did throw you to the wolves and that was my fault. I told Jake to come by our room in about an hour so we can sit down and discuss your duties in further detail so what happened last night doesn't happen again.” She threw you an apologetic look as you grimaced.
“I feel bad about last night.” The elevator dinged announcing your arrival onto your designated floor.
“Seriously Y/N, don’t. Shit was all whacky and all over the place and you had no clue what to expect. I should've had you shadowing someone, I should've had you shadowing me for the night so you could see how the boys work. I blame myself for this one.”
You arrived at your room and Rose swiped the keycard for entry. The room was modest, two queen beds, tv, little desk and table in the corner and bathroom. The beds white linens looked rather inviting for a nap later on if you had the time to take it. Just as both of you were getting settled into the room, you for a shower and Rose unpacking a few of her personal items you heard her sigh rather loudly.
You paused what you were doing, “What's up?”
“Hmm? Oh nothing,” Her head softly shook. “Just Josh needing a multitude of things. I will be back shortly, I must go tend to the king of vocals.”
You both laughed. “Enjoy your shower!” She said, and with that she was out the door and you were left alone in peace.
Your shower was not living up to your standards with the dang water pressure being practically nothing but the warmth of the water, the smell of your favorite soap, and the normalcy of your shower routine put a satisfied smile on your face.
Hopping out, you wiped some of the steam that had collected on the mirror and stared at yourself. Thank goodness for showers giving you and your hair a fresh start. That rat's nest had been worse than you expected this morning on the side of your head, understandable why the boys smirked at you.
You heard a soft knock at the door, assuming it was Rose you didn't bother to put on any clothes and just clung the towel closer to your body. Unfortunately for you, when the door swung open you were met with the young guitarist whose eyes seemed to bug out of his head at the sight of you wrapped in a skimpy white towel.
“Oh my god I am so sorry,” You panicked and pulled the towel tighter around yourself. “I thought you were Rose.”
Jake cleared his throat and attempted to maintain eye contact with you. “It's, uh, its not a problem.”
“Uh, come on in, I just need to grab some clothes really quick.”
You stepped aside to let Jake into your room, heart in your throat out of embarrassment that your new boss has seen you in your current state. You quickly grabbed a tshirt and leggings from your bag while Jake made himself comfortable at a little table that was in the room, pulling out a notebook and setting it in front of himself. You locked yourself back in the bathroom and took a deep breath to ground yourself.
You made your way out of the bathroom to find Jake now across the room looking out of the window at the view of Denver, Colorado and its bustling streets below. His damn outfit makes your head feel fuzzy. His half unbuttoned shirt half tucked in his pants.
“Hey.” You said softly.
Jake turned around and you watched as his wandering eyes traveled across your now fully clothed body, briefly meeting yours as his lips curled in the smallest, barely there smirk. “Hello,” he uttered, the corner of his mouth still upturned.
“Listen, I want to apologize for raising my voice at you yesterday. I totally understand if you want to drop me as your assistant, that was highly unprofessional of me .”
Jake waved you off quickly. “No, it was unprofessional of me to even be talking that way about you. If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry. You were right, I haven't even given you a chance.” He gave you a soft smile, his chestnut eyes glimmering as they peered into yours. “How about we start over. Forget about last night, yeah?”
“I think I’d be okay with that.” You gave him a soft smile back, finding it hard not to at his contagious charm.
“Great,” he says, offering you a firm hand for a more professional greeting.“Hello I am Jake,”
“Hi Jake, Im Y/N.” You took his hand in yours, fighting back a giggle as the blush began to rise on your cheeks. The goosebumps instantly began to prickle your skin at the feeling of his touch. You gasped softly at your own body's reaction and tried to cover it up. You were unsure if you were successful or not but Jake did not acknowledge it so you were hopeful.
“Y/N, it is nice to meet you. I look forward to working together.” He gave you a wide toothy grin now which naturally, you should've guessed, was breathtaking.
No wait, stop. Don't think like that. This is your boss, your job. Remain professional dammit..
Jake gestured to the table behind you, “Why don't we get started.”
You nodded and grabbed your own notebook, pen and planner from your bookbag and joined Jake at the little table.
“I'll go easy on you I swear.” He flashed you another dazzling smile, this time with an added wink and a sweet chuckle under his breath. Why God..why..
“Rose might have some more things for you, I know she's excited there will be someone else around to assist but you are first and foremost my assistant so you'll be handling my things primarily and then I may share you with the rest of the crew as needed. You okay with that?”
You clicked your pen, “Of course!”
“Fantastic.” He opened up his little notebook which had a little bullet point list written down. You glanced at it and were able to read out most of it but averted your eyes out of respect. You didn't want him to think you were nosey. At least not yet.
“I know we already talked about most of this last night so it may be repetitive, my apologies for that. I'll keep things pretty simple for you and just reiterate some things,” Jake wiped the corner of his mouth. “Pre shows Im just looking for help with getting ready. Making sure my suits are ready to go, my boots that I need are clean of scuffs. Might need help with make up here and there,” He cleared his throat. “Just some eyeliner nothing fancy like Josh. Maybe some things with my hair but I'm not sure.”
“I can definitely help you explore some ideas.” You gave him a soft smile that he returned.
“Rose usually handles the food and drinks and making sure the venues have everything we need, I'm not sure if she wants to keep it that way or not but we will have to ask her.”
“Might be easier for her too but yes, we will discuss.” You said.
Jake turned a page in his little book, “Okay now on stage stuff, I know you also got a brief idea of what that would be for me.”
You grimaced slightly at the memory of Jakes harsh tone at last nights show telling you to ‘fuck off’ when you were so clearly in his way and not helping. At least now that you're sitting down, hopefully that won't happen again.
“Basically I just need those fresh towels ready, need my drinks to stay topped off like I mentioned, making sure the roadies follow the schedule for which guitar for which song, yada yada. Making sure I have guitar picks ready to go.” He paused to turn the page again and read down the list. “Then I guess just tending to my basic requests throughout the tour. I promise I'm really not that high on maintenance even if it didn't seem that way last night.” He gave you another soft smile.
“This is all very doable for me. My only request is to keep an open communication with me and work with me, not against me if things go a little haywire while I get used to the flow of your tour.”
Jake nodded. “Deal.”
“So I guess Rose is not making this little meeting of ours.” You giggled softly and began packing up your notebook and pen.
“I'm not surprised,” Jake said, mirroring your actions. “Josh can be very demanding of attention you'll learn that pretty quickly.”
You giggled. “I think I already have.”
***
August 4th.
STARCATCHER
Seattle, WA.
“Damn, you really have some dedicated fans.” You said, looking out the van window at the fans lined up on the street along the venue.
Jake pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “We really do, they're awesome.”
You subconsciously twisted the rings on your fingers in your lap from the feeling of anxiety creeping up in your throat. Jake was the biggest artist that you have worked for so far. Even after your conversation with him the other day where he laid out everything he needed from you in detail once again, you still felt unsure about how tonight would go.
You felt Jake's hand on your shoulder pulling you back to reality. “You okay over there? You're a million miles away.”
You glanced over at him and smiled softly, “Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just a little nervous I guess.”
“No need to be Y/N, things will go smoothly! I promise not to be an asshole tonight.” You both shared a soft laugh.
Things did not in fact go smoothly…
When you and Jake had initially arrived at the venue you were met with a very frazzled looking Rose and others bustling around.
“Rose, what the fuck is going on?” Jake had sat her down on the couch in one of the green rooms. Josh on the opposite end of the couch, threw his arm around her for comfort as tears streamed down her face. Across the room Sam and Danny stood unusually quiet and still.
“One of the runners,” She blew her nose. “Dropped off your stage outfits at the dry cleaners too late and I don't know if we will even have your stage outfits ready to go, let alone everything else adding up. Were missing mic packs somewhere and-and..” She hiccuped. Across the room you saw Danny give Sam a slight nudge with his elbow.
“Okay deep breaths Rose Bud, remember like we practiced the other day?” Josh said, pulling her closer to him. “We will get this figured out. Don't forget Y/N is here, maybe she can help out a bit.”
“Yeah, Y/N can help out.” Jake spoke up, volunteering you. “I don't really have much on my list today and I don't need her until later.”
Rose sniffled and looked up at you. “Would you be able to help?”
All eyes were on you and the panic you felt in the van crept back up in your throat. “Yeah, uh yes I can see what I can do.”
Rose jumped up off the couch and gave you a tight hug, “Oh thank the heavens!”
Shortly after Rose had calmed down a bit, everyone dispersed for the most part. You followed closely behind Sam and Danny as they exited the green room. You picked up on their quiet whispers shared between each other as you turned the corner, your presence apparently going unnoticed.
“Dude, you gotta go get those mic packs.” Danny whispered, bumping Sam with his elbow like he did in the green room.
“I know, I know!” Sam responded, squeezing past a few dolly boxes. “I have to go dig them out from my case.”
“Okay,” You spoke up. “So am I to assume that you two had something to do with the disappearance of those mic packs?” Both of the boys' heads turned quickly in your direction and their eyes grew wide. They had been caught.
“I do not know what you are talking about Y/N.” Danny gave you a sly grin, turning around to face you.
You rolled your eyes, “Of course not. You know, you two have some impeccable timing it seems.”
“Well it's not like we knew everything would go to shit today!” Sam threw his hands up defensively. You couldn't contain your giggle as a smile broke across both of their faces.
“You two are terrible and you're officially on my radar,” You pushed on both of their shoulders lightly. “Lets go get them. At least then maybe Rose will stop crying.”
To your luck, the boys had not so sneakily hid the mic packs in plain sight in Sam's wardrobe case and you had them returned to Rose who swore up and down that you were a good luck charm. She had directed you to give them to Dale who was managing sound and tech for the shows. Walking through a little passageway you made your way into the arena where the beeping sounds of heavy machinery seemed to bounce off the ceilings. Techies and roadies alike were bustling around hanging lights, hooking up mechanicals and wires. The stage was being built and even chairs were already being set up on the floor. You had found Dale pretty quickly who seemed relieved to see the mic packs in your hands and thanked you before turning back to a few other workers and continuing directing them on where things will be going.
You took a moment before reentering the winding halls of Denver's Ball Arena to admire how big the venue was from where you stood on the floor. You couldn't begin to imagine playing to an arena packed full of people like this night after night. The empty seats reaching as high as the ceiling made your stomach churn at the thought of sitting up that high. You wondered how many people would pack in tonight to see the boys play their music. You then noticed a small movement out of the corner of your eye as you panned the rest of the arena in awe.
Was that? No..
Your lips separated with a low gasp. Jake was running. He must've been doing laps around the arena. You stood frozen in your spot watching him closely as he rounded the corner of the venue furthest away from you. His hair was tied back in a low bun against his neck, he had abandoned his usual attire and was sporting a pair of running shorts (something you couldn't picture him wearing) and the skin of his bare torso so clearly glistening in the lighting from the sweat on his body.
You hadn't realized how hard you had been staring until he rounded the corner and was running towards you. He smirked at you as you locked eyes and your heart leapt in your chest at the realization that you had been caught ogling him. You quickly turned on your heel before he got any closer and booked it down the hall.
What the hell is wrong with me..snap out of it..
“See something you like?” You heard his voice ring out behind you. Cocky bastard.
You turned around and looked at Jake, it was even worse having him up close to you now. Subconsciously you waited until he caught up to you to continue walking down the hall.
“Cat got your tongue or something?” He smirked at you as he wiped his sweaty face with a towel. His cologne became ever more powerful as it was radiating off of his hot skin. It was intoxicating. The scents of bergamot and vanilla create a sensual aroma that clouded your mind. Your mouth ran dry and you tried so hard not to steal glances at his sweaty chest. You probably looked like an idiot screaming at yourself mentally to respond to him.
“What would you like for lunch Jake?” You cleared your throat finally. “Anything specific you like for your post run ritual?”
“Mmm, a hot shower.”His tone caught you off guard.
Was he doing this on purpose?
You took a chance and looked his way and you caught what you thought was the tail end of a wink sent towards you. Was he fucking flirting with me? No, no…no way.
He let out a booming laugh, “I just usually have some sort of chicken wrap. Rose should have it already somewhere if you don't mind grabbing that for me.” He wiped the back of his neck and let his hair down as you two got closer to his designated dressing room.
“Sure.”
His fingers grazed your lower back as you cut the corner to the dressing room and your skin felt like it was on fire.
***
The rest of the day ended up running a lot more smoothly than the morning did. Rose was able to get the dry cleaners to expedite the cleaning of the stage outfits and they were back at the venue right as the boys finished their soundcheck and you and Rose hastily worked together to get Josh's jumpsuits laid out for the evening after hanging up suits in other dressing rooms. You had written down a small list in your phone of everything you needed for Jake to have a smooth show tonight.
Towels by his guitar case. Check.
One towel on the amp. Check.
Check with Tim to make sure Jakes guitars are all tuned and ready. Check.
Snacks and drinks in the dressing room. Check.
Wine bottles in guitar case. Check.
Water. Big check.
You felt really prepared for tonight and mentally ready for his cues on stage. Luckily for you, Jake said he had a handle on getting himself ready for tonight and you found him laughing along with something Danny and Sam had apparently said as you walked into the green room for final checks before the walk to the stage.
“Alright boys!” Rose clapped her hands together. “Everyone has their wireless packs all charged and ready to go?”
Everyone nodded collectively.
“Let's have a show!”
***
August 10th
STARCATCHER
Los Angeles, CA.
The morning had gone smoothly thanks to your multiple alarms set to ring every 5 minutes no matter how many times you snoozed them. You were exhausted. Everyone was exhausted actually. The last week of what felt like back to back shows, sleeping in tour bus bunks and arriving at venues, the first thing at the crack of dawn was catching up to everyone. You wanted nothing more than to keep your head buried underneath the soft white linens of the hotel bed sheets with the AC blasting on full, but duty calls and you had to get your adult child to the venue sooner rather than later. Rose of course was up at the crack of dawn and out of the room already tending to the frontman of the band who unfortunately for her, was an early riser regardless of the time he went to bed the night before.
As you did your morning routine and applied some concealer underneath your eyes you were thanking the universe that you were heading home tomorrow. Just one more day, you thought. One more show after this and I can sleep in my own bed and shower in my own home.
Getting yourself moving in the morning was not bad after you had a few sips of your favorite caffeinated drink, however, getting Jake moving in the morning was another thing. He had a tendency to sleep in until the last moment possible. Not to mention actually getting him ready and out of the hotel room on time was like trying to put a coat on a toddler, near to impossible without some sort of fight. Yet, to your surprise today, he was already up and waiting for you to meet him. He had even called a runner for you two already and was waiting with a breakfast sandwich ready to go.
“When the hell did you get this?” You asked Jake as you buckled up in the white van.
“Shortly after I woke up and decided I was hungry.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes and decided not to press any further. Thankfully, it seemed as if everything at the venue was in working order. You and Rose caught up on administrative things for the band throughout the day, made sure everyone had their plane tickets booked and ready to go for a quick and easy trip home to Nashville tomorrow. Naturally of course, just because the morning and afternoon had gone smoothly, this meant something had to go haywire before the show.
Rose had finished Josh and Sams make up for the night. You had been giggling to yourself listening to Josh and Sam. You officially learned what a “Rhinestone Diary” was as the bands social media manager, Kaiya, helped put it together. While the Rhinestone Diary offered a moment of fun for a few, for others, tensions were high after so many shows. Lack of sleep and being cooped up together for a period of time was really taking a toll on everyone's emotions.
You were typing away on your computer next to the main green room meant for the band to hang out when raised voices pulled you out of your focus.
“Thats fucking stupid!”
“Jake,” Josh raised his voice. “You cant just make changes like that last fucking minute because you dont want to play Frozen Light.”
“Jake,” Rose spoke softly. “We already sent out the setlist to the sounds and light guys.”
“Okay and?” He snapped. “It's not the first time we've made a last minute change.” Your typing paused and you closed the lid on your laptop.
“Were not fucking playing Highway Tune!” Josh practically screamed. You had never heard Josh raise his voice that loud. You had heard stories of how bad fights between the Kiszkas could get before but nothing could have prepared you for witnessing it in real time.
You had abandoned your laptop and you leaned up against the door frame just as Jake seemed to be exiting the room.
“Fucking selfish prick you know that,” He turned around and looked at Josh. “You know this is just as much my band as it is yours, its called fucking compromise.”
“It's not much of a compromise when we completely change something that I do not want!” Josh's arms crossed and Jake glared at Josh, you and Rose.
Greaaat, now I'm caught in the crossfire.
“What fucking ever.” Jake threw his hands up and brushed past you in the door frame. He began walking down the short hallway towards his dressing room before turning to you. “You coming?”
Without a word you pushed off the door frame and walked over towards him. Your arms had been crossed against your chest in defense from the rising tensions between the boys. Following Jake closely you watched as he yanked his jacket off and set down on the chair in front of his mirror, he seemed defeated.
Your arms uncrossed, “Anything I can do for you Jake?”
“Uh, yeah, I could use some help with my eyeliner pencil,” He let out a breath. “Im shaking so damn bad I can't sharpen the thing.”
You nodded your head and dug through the little makeup bag that was set aside for Jake specifically and located the little black eyeliner pencil that was more than halfway used. The sound of you sharpening the little pencil was the only noise that you heard in the room as you felt Jake observing you.
Unfortunately for you, the soft tip of the pencil kept crumbling in the sharpener as you kept twisting it and twisting it.
“Fuck.” You muttered and felt Jake's eyes glance up at you. “God dammit.” You muttered again as the tip broke for the third time.
“That's the only one I have, stop sharpening it!” Jake snapped at you.
“It's fine Jake we're going home in a day or so, we can get another one.” You kept sharpening the pencil.
“Youre fucking wasting it!” He snapped at you again. This time, he had snatched the pencil and the sharpener out of your hand. “Just go fucking get my phone charger off the bus Y/N.”
“Huh?”
“Go fucking get my charger from the bus. Its not that fucking hard to follow directions.”
You instantly recoiled at his raised voice and your head dropped, you felt like you haad fucked up again. When you took a chance to glance at Jake his back was turned to you and your shoulders slumped. You watched as he examined the pencil in his hands and then threw it forcefully into the garbage can across the room.Great, there I go again. It was a usual occurrence for you to blame yourself for others emotions even if you were not consciously aware of it.
The walk to the tour bus gave you a breath of fresh air at least and allowed you to clear your mind.
By the time you got back into the arena it was already showtime and the boys had been walked to the stage by security. You plugged Jake's phone in and set it on the vanity in the green room, briefly glancing at his notifications but not trying to pay any real attention to them as you saw a list of texts and a few other notifications. Not my business….
Grabbing a bottle of Cabernet off of a nearby table you began your descent to the stage just as you heard the opening lines of what you quickly learned as The Falling Sky and slowed your stride. You knew Jake was angry but you hated that the anger was directed towards you. He had no right to take his frustrations out on something that you didn't cause and you made a mental note to put him in his place another time. Right now, your focus and your job was on Jake putting on a good show for his fans.
Walking up to the side of the stage you checked in with Brian, Jakes “right hand” roadie, that all of his guitars were ready along with additional strings and made a note to tell Rose that you needed more nylon strings for Jakes acoustic as he had already broke a few since the last few shows. Standing near the side stage you observed as the crowd went wild for any little movement the boys seemed to make. Josh's voice echoing like siren through the venue echoing off the same walls you had observed in other venues still made your heart stand still
These boys had talent, talent beyond comprehension, and though you had only known them for a short while you were mesmerized by the craft they created for as young as they were. You found your eyes closely following Jake and while you tried to convince yourself it was because of your job, having to know what he needed at all times, deep down you knew it was because he was the most mesmerizing of them all..
Watching Jake play guitar was like a drug, something you didn't think you needed until it was right in front of you. The raw talent and animalistic way that he played the guitar, the way he made it sing, the way he made it moan and bend to his every need..
Your thoughts were cut short as Rose came up beside you and signaled to the break in the setlist in front of you. Almost simultaneously Jake looked back side stage and signaled to his amp where his cup of wine lay hidden. That was your cue. Staying out of sight you twisted the cap and graciously poured his cup half full. He gave you a half smile and a small thumbs up as a thanks but you returned his gesture with a frown because fuck his attitude earlier. Even if he was feeling better from the energy from the fans in the room doesn't mean that you had forgotten how he had snapped at you.
You made your way back down the stairs side stage and stood by with your arms crossed thinking about how much you wanted this show to end so you could go lay in your hotel room bed and forget about today. You took a deep breath as you heard Jake's guitar wail again, You'll be in your own bed in a few days time, you'll be in the quiet of your apartment, just keep hanging on Y/N..
You watched in horror as Jake approached you, his red gibson swinging on his hips. He stepped down the back stairs with confidence and handed you the white rose he was carrying, “I'm sorry I was a dick to you tonight.”
Oh.
You stood frozen holding the long stem with the white flower delicately on top as Jake gave you a small smile and walked back up the stairs. This was definitely something you were not expecting.
***
August 20th
HOME SWEET HOME…
Nashville, TN.
It had been a little while since the day Jake presented you with his apology. You had accepted the rose willingly when he handed it to you, but you felt in utter shock over it. That evening after the show Jake had sat you down and told you he was really going to work on his attitude towards you, that it was unfair you were taking the brunt of it when his anger had been all towards his brothers. You had parted ways on good terms after coming home to Nashville and you were enjoying your quiet time away from the limelight, and the chaos. You had just sat down on your couch and cozied up for the night when your phone screen lit up next to you unexpectedly.
Jake Kiszka
Hey, you busy tomorrow?
Oh. This is unexpected.
You were snuggled up with a glass of your favorite beverage in hand and your roommate's cat, Beans, purring against your leg as you pet him softly. You had the tv on in the background but you were curled up with your favorite book at the moment, rereading it for the fourth time. Seeing Jake's name across your screen caused your heart to jump in your chest. You haven't heard from him in a few weeks, since the day you parted in the airport to head home when your roommate Addison came to pick you up.
You
Nothing planned, what's going on?
You laid your head against the couch pillow and felt as Beans stretched his paws against you, you smiled in content at the small animal. Your phone vibrated again.
Jake Kiszka
I could use your help cleaning out and re packing my cases for tour in a few weeks. We always make it into a party too with food and drinks and music too so I promise I won't work you too hard :)
You caught yourself smiling a bit. Even though this was going to be work related, the thought of seeing Jake again made your stomach fill with butterflies. Fuck no, stop smiling like that..this isnt right this is your boss for crying out loud…
Yet, you couldn't deny it anymore. You were so clearly lying to yourself.
You were crushing on Jake Kiszka whether you wanted to or not. You couldn't deny how your heart felt at the thought of him and to your demise, you couldn't help but think about him constantly since you ended the first part of the tour. Especially, it seems, at certain moments late at night when your vibrator had fully charged.
Okay, whatever, you were “down bad” according to Addison. You felt ashamed for feeling this way towards your boss but as long as you kept yourself professional around Jake what was the harm in a little crush..right?
****
August 21st
GVF, LLC OFFICE.
Nashville, TN.
You swore you didn't pick out this outfit because you were seeing Jake today. No definitely not the flowy powder blue sundress that was hanging in your closet begging to be worn. You had simply forgotten about it being in there and today was so hot, it was perfect weather for a dress, yeah.
You swiped on a little bit of your favorite lip gloss and fluffed your hair when you caught eyes with your roommate in the reflection of the mirror and yelped. “What the hell is a matter with your Addison?! Don't you know how to knock?” You clenched your heart over your heaving chest trying your best to calm your erratic heart.
Addison wore a proud smirk as she leaned against the door frame, steaming cup of coffee in hand. “Who are you getting all dolled up for? Is it your sweet Jaaake?”
“Mind your business” You turned towards your reflection one more time. One last look to make sure everything was in place. “Don't you have something to do today? Somewhere to be?”
Addison was barricading you in the bathroom. “Nope. Cmon, just admit that you have a crush on him already and I'll leave you be!”
You pushed past her not wanting to acknowledge the feelings growing in your heart and naturally, she followed you as you walked into your room to grab your purse to head out the door. “Keep denying it to yourself and it'll get worse.”
“Yeah well, there's nothing there to begin with, so I don't know what to tell you.” You slipped your favorite comfy shoes on near the front door of the apartment.
“Mhm, suuure.”
At that, you walked out of the door with a dramatic eye roll.
***
The Kiszkas sure knew how to throw a party it seemed.
What had started off as an innocent afternoon unpacking and repacking crates and boxes while listening to music, quickly turned into what Jake deemed “a shit fest” as soon as Sam had located a bottle of tequila hidden in one of his crates.
“Woah!” He had announced to the room, waving the bottle around like a prize. “Lookie what I have here. Who wants shots?!”
Rose stopped packing the box of Tide To-Go sticks in Josh's case. “Sam, were not even finished yet!”
“Why should that stop us? We just struck gold!”
You and Jake made eye contact as you were standing near his dolly box and you both smirked at one another. “Let's go Sammy boy!” He turned and yelled across the room.
“Yes! Jakes in! Now who else?”
One shot turned into, well, several in a short matter of time. You realize the energy had shifted from work to party mode once the music in the room had picked up in volume. To Rose's dismay, the tasks at hand had been long abandoned and swapped in for everyone mingling with each other. The glow of the afternoon sun had settled into darker hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set on the city of Nashville and you had a nice little buzz flowing through your veins. You felt yourself actually relax and let loose and have fun for once, without worrying about being too professional. You were growing quite comfortable around here. Around your little tour family.
You had been perched up against the pool table across the room watching the shenanigans of Jake and Sam fighting each other with plastic swords dramatically. Josh had taken it upon himself to be the ref and Jake had been on and off yelling about how Josh was terrible at his job. You smiled in content as you watched others scattered around the room, watching the childish display or talking amongst themselves.
“What are you smirking at?” Danny approached you.
“Oh, nothing, just uh, feeling happy for the first time in a little while. Grateful I'm here.”
“We're very grateful to have you. Jakes is very grateful, I know.” Danny shot you a small wink over the rim of his cup. Oh?
You were in the middle of talking with Danny about one of your favorite albums to listen to on your self dictated “Vinyl Sundays' in your apartment when you felt a nudge on your shoulder and heard a soft ‘hey’ in your ear. You turned around and were met with Jake, sunglasses on now of course even though the sun had just fully set and a playful smirk resting on his face. A hint of a British accent grazed past his lips when he spoke. “Cmere, wanna show you something.”
Your heart skipped a beat, did you mess something up? No, you couldn't have, not with his body language. You smiled softly at Danny. “Excuse me, it seems my attention is needed elsewhere.”
“Not a problem Y/N, it's been nice getting to know you. You'll have to bring me that vinyl so I can listen to it before the tour starts up again.” He smiled softly back at you.
“I will make sure that I do!”
You followed Jake through the hallways of their management office, both of you silent for a beat before Jake threw a smile over his shoulder at you.
“What were you and Danny talking about?”
“He was asking me about my vinyl collection actually.” You said proudly.
“Vinyl collection huh? Anything good?” He tipped his sunglasses down to throw you a quizzical look.
“Quite a bit actually,” You nodded. “Between my parents collection and my own I would say I have a couple hundred lying around. I try to listen to a new album every Sunday even if it's an album I know or have listened to on a streaming service.”
“Couple hundred?” You couldn't see it now that Jake's sunglasses found their rightful place once more on his nose, but his eyes practically bugged out of his head. You had caught him off guard and you didn't even know it. “Thats, that's quite impressive actually.”
You sighed, “I take pride in my collection but I really owe it to both of my parents, mostly my father, for having quite the exquisite rock and roll and folk collection.”
Jake hummed and flashed you a gut wrenching smile. “I might have to come and listen with you sometime.”
“I'd like that Jake.”
“Which one were you talking to Danny about?” You turned yet another corner in what seemed to be a maze of hallways.
“Oh, I was just going through another box in my parents basement the other day and found quite the gem. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll. One of my favorite songs is on there, Crimson and Clover.”
Jake smiled to himself, “Crimson and Clover, hmm.”
“What..” You were fully ready to defend yourself.
“Oh nothing, seems fitting. Seems very you, you remind me of a little clover. A little good luck clover. You've made my life so much easier on tour lately; it's like you're my little good luck charm. My little Clover.” Jake's fingers played with the stubble on his chin and you felt your cheeks grow warm with blood. “Ahh, and there's the Crimson to go along with it.”
You couldn't hide the smile any longer. The tension was so thick you felt as though you could cut through it with a dull knife.
“Jake?” You asked softly.
He turned towards you, eyes still hiding behind his RayBans. “Yeah?”
“Where are you taking me?” You couldn't help the infectious smile that broke across your face yet again. He was simply electric.
Jake stopped walking and you followed suit. “Ah fuck, Im sorry, I probably should’ve asked this before I pulled you away but do you smoke?”
“What?” You weren't sure you heard him correctly.
“You know.” He pinched his pointer finger to his thumb and raised it to his lips, eyebrows lifting simultaneously in question.
“Oh,” Your arms crossed against your chest. “Yeah uh, sometimes. Not often though.”
“Hmm,” He hummed and reached into the front pocket of his button down shirt. “Well, there's this secret room here that I like to hide away in sometimes and take the edge off after a meeting with the hooligans. Figured I could show you and we could, you know.” He trailed off and his head tipped down towards the ground.
“I'm down I think,” You smiled. “It's been awhile since I smoked though so I might not smoke all that much.”
Jake grinned at you, “Fantastic. No worries, we don't have to smoke it all. Cmon were not far.”
You followed Jake down yet another hallway towards a solid door with a bright exit sign hanging overhead. As he pushed through the door the August humidity engulfed you for a moment but it was short lived as Jake opened another side door from the outside of the white brick building and gestured to you to enter. You were surprised as you stepped into what looked like a, possibly still used, darkroom. Red lights were shining through the room, you could see bins on tables and clotheslines hung up along the walls. At the present moment though, no photos were hung up to dry.
“Woah.” You whispered as you heard Jake close the door behind you. “Is this?”
“A darkroom? Yeah,” He smiled at you softly, his sunglasses finally coming off of his face. “We like to come here and develop the film that we capture. Well, mostly Sam and Josh but I dabble with it sometimes as well.”
“This is really cool.” You said as you walked further into the room. “Kind of disappointed that there's no film developing right now, honestly.”
You heard the click of a lighter behind you and the sound of Jake inhaling. “Yeah, we wouldn't be able to do this though if there was.” He blew the smoke out of his mouth and you watched it engulf his face for a moment in the red light.
Damn these red lights, you thought. Jake somehow looked even sexier than he normally did in the low red lights. He looked like he was damned to steal your soul from you, like he was put on this earth to bewitch you into falling in love with him. He smirked as he blew out another big hit. “Are you just going to keep staring at me or would you like to take a hit of this?”
Your eyes widened with fear and you felt your face flush hot. Okay, thank god for these red lights actually…
You reached out to take the blunt from Jake and pulled it to your lips. You took in a generous hit, not aware of how much you had actually inhaled. But your lungs made sure to point that out to you pretty quickly though as a coughing fit began to wrack through your body.
“Woah Y/N, take a breath if you can.” Jake came up beside you and began rubbing your back, pulling the blunt from your fingers and holding it away from your body. Thankfully, you had carried a small water bottle with you and you were able to stop coughing enough to finally take a few deep breaths. You felt the instant head buzz from the high settling into your body. It wasn't alarming or anxiety inducing, you felt calm. Like your worries had no longer room in your mind.
“There we go.” Jake said softly, his strong hand still rubbing comforting circles along your back that definitely awoke a different type of feeling low in your stomach. “Ready for another?”
“Hell no.” You choked out a laugh and his throaty laugh followed suit. His laugh was music to your ears. How could it be possible that a damn laugh could sound sexy?
“Fair enough Y/N.”
You watched as he lifted the blunt to his soft looking lips that were glistening even in the red light. His eyes flicked to you again as the smoke began to leave his lungs and float through the air. Your eyes snapped to the ground out of embarrassment for being caught staring at him yet again. You hated how his lips tilted up in a little smirk as he realized, as well, that he had caught you again.
Clearing your throat you broke the silence, and the tension “What kind of film do you all usually produce here?”
Another cloud of smoke engulfed the space around you, the red lights showing that the room had a slight haze to it now. “Mostly pictures from the tour. I know Sammy boy is more into this than anything, surprisingly. He constantly carries his camera around with him.”
You hummed and pretended like the clotheslines with hooks were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room rather than the man who was dripping with sex appeal next to you.
“Want one last hit before it's done?” Jake asked, gesturing to the now very small blunt.
“Uh, I'm probably okay, I'd like to avoid another cough attack if possible.” You giggled softly as you waved him off.
“Hm,” His lips pressed into a tight line for a moment. “You ever shotgun before?”
“What?” Your eyes widened.
“You ever did a shotgun with someone while smoking?” He tilted his head at you.
“I uh, don't think so no.” You fidgeted with your fingers as nervousness crept up in your throat.
You watched as he moved a little closer to you, closing the space and making your throat constrict. “‘S pretty easy, I take a hit and then blow it in your mouth. It makes it so the smoke isn't as harsh.”
The spicy bergamot of his cologne rolling off of his skin began engulfing your senses and coaxing you into yet another intoxicating cloud of lust that was Jake. Now, of course, this sense was heightened with your current state of mind.
“Wanna try?” He whispered as he moved even closer to you again. You watched as he stepped in front of you so you two were facing each other head on now.
You slowly nodded your head in fear that your voice would fail you if you tried to speak. You bit your lip in anticipation of what was going to happen next. Jake sucked in a soft breath between his lips and brought his hand up to your chin.
“Don't do that,” He whispered. “Drives me crazy when you do.”
Your lips parted slightly as his calloused thumb swiped along your mouth, that very thumb catching the fullness of your bottom lip for just a moment as you released it from your teeth before he pulled away.
Your mouth was undeniably dry as he smiled down at you and you felt the buttons of his shirt graze softly against your skin. The heat coming off of his body was noticeable and by God did you suddenly wish he would just press himself fully against you.
“Okay, s’easy. Trust me yeah?” He brushed your hair away from one side of your face and your heart leapt out of your chest. You didn't have time to fully comprehend what was happening as you watched him bring the blunt to those perfectly soft looking lips and inhale a deep cloud of smoke. What happened next was simultaneously going too slow and too fast all at once. Your brain struggled to keep up with what was happening as his fingertips dipped into your hair and pulled you closer to him by the back of your neck. Holy shit.
You finally felt Jake's body meld with yours as best it could, the feeling of being pressed between the man you desired most and a shitty little table was instantly the most intoxicating feeling you had experienced in a long time. You didn't feel like you could have prepared yourself for the set of events that unfolded shortly after.
You felt that same thumb from earlier brush softly at the bottom of your ear as he tipped your head up towards him slightly. You wanted to close your eyes but your couldn't bring yourself to find the strength to do so. You watched as he leaned in and gasped softly as you felt his lip softly against yours. Your heart sank to your stomach at the feeling of finally being close to him in ways you only had wished for the last few weeks. You suddenly remembered what got you into this position in the first place as you felt Jakes nose nudge softly against yours. Your mouth parted slightly to accept the smoke tucked away in his lungs currently.At your acknowledgement that you were ready to accept what he was giving to you, you felt Jakes lips press a little harder against yours and you felt the hot smoke flood your mouth. You inhaled as best as you could but you also were frozen in place.
Instead of pulling away immediately as you exhaled the smoke from your own lungs, Jake took a chance and softly closed his lips against yours to which you softly reciprocated as well. This kiss was cautionary and you confirmed how both of you felt in the moment as Jake pulled slightly away, hand still tucked in your hair. You couldn't read his facial expression all too well but his eyes had a determined look.
You made the first move to fully kiss him at this point. You tipped your head up and pressed a more determined kiss to his lips. Jake welcomed the kiss. His lips engulfing your own in a soft, pillowy dream of lust. You felt goosebumps spread across your body as you melted further into him, wrapping your arms around the back of his head and you pulled him impossibly closer to you. As your mouths moved back and forth a little less cautiously at this point you made a mental note for yourself how Jake's bottom lip was most prominent in the kiss. His mouth was warm, and so soft but rough against your own as the sexual tension built up in the room. You felt his hands rubbing down the sides of your body and settling on your hips giving them a soft squeeze as you two deepened the kiss further and your tongues touched for the first time.
Inhibitions clearly out the window, you felt him lift you up onto the table behind you without breaking the heated make out that was now happening. As his tongue dipped further against yours, you couldn't help but moan softly. He seemed to appreciate your reaction as he squeezed your hips tighter and dragged you closer to the edge of the table, your clothed core making slight contact with the buckle of his belt. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing mattered other than Jake and how he felt. Your fingers found their way into his soft hair and you pulled slightly releasing a moan he had been hiding away from you. It didn't feel like enough. More. You needed more….
The shrill sound of an iPhone ringtone broke through the silence in the room making you both jump.
“Dammit Josh,” Jake swore as he looked at the screen of his phone and lifted it up to his ear. “What!” His body was still pressed up against yours and his fingertips were dragging along the exposed skin on your hip. From this position you were in, he looked fucked out and by God he looked delicious.
“I just ran out to my car to grab something dude,” Jake spoke angrily into his phone and rolled his eyes. “No im not in the fuckin, whatever man. Im coming back now anyways chill the fuck out.”
You heard the three beeps of a call ending and Jake sighed and glanced at you, “Sorry Clover”
His fingers grazed across your cheekbone. “Here, let me help you down.”
You felt his hands squeeze your hips again and you felt like you were out of breath. The weight of what happened between you and Jake now settling slowly into your consciousness. Before you could think much further, his fingertips tipped your chin up and he softly pressed his lips to yours one more time. As he pulled away he smiled softly at you and you couldn't help but reciprocate.
He was like a drug, and now that you've had a taste, you weren't sure you were going to be able to give it up. You pressed your fingertips softly to your tingling lips to hide your smile as Jake walked his way out the door, turning around to blow a kiss to you and wave his fingers. His sunglasses take their natural place sitting on his perfect nose once again. You followed shortly thereafter and giggled as you watched the remnants of the smoke pour out the door.
“Cmon darlin,” Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Let's go have ourselves a party, yeah?”
You smiled and wrapped an arm around Jake's torso, “Lets!” You'll deal with whatever just happened tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow is good.
Remember that harmless little crush you thought wouldn't get in the way of anything?
Yeah, well you might've been wrong but you definitely won't be telling anyone about it.
****
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taglist: @brujamagik @anythingforjtk @jakesguitarsolo @do-it-jakey-baby @vanfleeter @violetstarcatcher @myownparadise96@ignite-my-fire @nina-23-45
A/N: If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know :)
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