#week 3 day 1: now that we have been nice to you fucking get over it you weakling
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but they don't care about the burnout. everyone is burnt out, they tell me. who isn't burnt out!
the good news is they don't say depression is a choice as much anymore, but the symptoms for burn out and depression are so hand-in-hand that they are mirror images of each other. but depression is serious. you're not depressed, you're just whiny. they barely change the script - don't be lazy! burn out is for people with real problems. burn out can be resolved with some fun candles and a day off work. burn out only happens in adults - no kid can be burnt out, after all; they've barely even had a life to live!
do you have a roof over your head and a steady job? you're not burnt out. so what if every night you wake up with a panic attack frothing inside your chest. you're lucky your problems are small. get back into plants or into yoga. shut up about it.
rich people get burnt out and go to fancy places. they get burnt out in their fancy offices with their real-people problems. they get burnt out and hire an assistant to help them never burn out again. you don't have the money to burn out. you don't have the two weeks to recover in a local spa. the job you come back to will still be stressful and hard.
you find yourself often wondering - does nobody remember about the pandemic? it seems almost like a joke or a punchline. being burnt-out was okay "during" the pandemic. now that people are back to ignoring covid, burnout is just-an-excuse again.
you google how to know if it's seasonal affective disorder or burnout. you google how to know if it's anxiety or it's burnout from working.
you google how to know if my depression is back or i'm burning out badly.
coming back from burnout just leaves you covered in ashes, not new growth. you struggle to get back basics, and then - you're just supposed to get back up and keep going. every day the amount of tasks you are able to do seems to dwindle even further - where does the time go? why is everything moving so-fast-and-yet-so-slow?
my therapist and i were talking about how many people had latent mental illnesses that were triggered by the pandemic. how depression can be environmental and situational. i am annoyingly logic-driven about my own recovery - i like to be sure i'm working on the "right" thing. i tell her i feel like i'm lying. that it just might be burnout, and i need to stop complaining. she asks me what words come to mind when i think of burning.
oh, i guess i see.
we casually ignore the violence of being left empty.
#employers for 2 weeks during the pandemic: we know it's gonna be so so hard and we're here for you#week 3 day 1: now that we have been nice to you fucking get over it you weakling#do not worry this is not me romantically recalling the ''we're here for u'' overhead announcements#this is the opposite#side note#the new options to post????????? huh#gonna go write something VERY gay just to test it#(eventually. i skipped my meds by accident today so im nowhere)
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a/n hi, sorry i’m advance about the ending it’s kinda awkward. this is part 3 to my “series”
summary it’s been over a year since the last time you and bucky, y’know ;), and he has something to tell you
pairings brothers bestfriend!mechanic! bucky barnes x post college! reader
warnings smut, pleasure kink, breeding, face fucking, choking, spanking, foul language, jealousy, fluff, angst, possessive!bucky, sir kink, rough sex, etc 18+ MINORS DNI
part 1 || part 2
lover
within a year, you learned so much about yourself—your desires— and they weren’t what the man in front of you had to offer.
“so you recently got of college?” jason ask as he whips his mouth with a napkin.
jason has been asking you out for a few weeks since you started your new job and you repeatedly let him down until a few days ago; and now you’re on a date a restaurant close to your job.
“yes, i graduated about three months ago.” you say. this whole “date” your answers to him have been short but he won’t take a hint.
“how was your graduation?” he ask and thoughts fill your mind of your graduation ceremony, everyone was there but him.
bucky.
james buchanan barnes.
just thought of him made you feel good.
“it was boring and long.” you mutter while taking a sip of your water. jason’s eyes meet your after a few unwanted seconds of silence.
he wasn’t unattractive, he just wasn’t bucky.
and that’s who you have been craving this past year.
emotionally and physically.
your brother mentioned him less and less as the year went on which confused you. but you missed him and even when you said you were done with him, you both knew you weren’t done with each other.
“y/n?” jason says and you snap back into reality. “you good? i’ve called your name like five times.”
“i’m sorry, i spaced out.”
“i can see that,” he begins and rolls his eyes in irritation which takes everything in you not to throw a chair at him.
“you were calling my name?” you question as he circled the ice in his drink around—annoyingly.
“yeah, i just want to ask if you knew who that was.” he snaps putting emphasis on the that.
turning your head slowly you see someone you didn’t plan on seeing ever again, bucky.
turning back around you start, “i don’t know who that is.”
yeah it was lying but you didn’t care.
“well he needs to stop staring.” jason groans, taking a bite of his steak.
you look down at your pasta, seeing it looking as if it hadn’t been touched.
so to get into buckys head, you indulge in your date a tad bit more.
grabbing your fork, you stab at the pasta and plop some in your mouth. you can feel his eyes on you—scanning your body.
“finally…” jason whispers to himself but you happen to hear. you cock an eyebrow at him and he laughs, “you’re eating.”
conversation sparks for thirty more minutes before your date comes to a close. “it was nice spending tonight with you.” jason says as he holds your door open to head outside.
it’s fairly warm outside so you don’t need to slide your jacket on. “it was nice hanging out with you too.” you say and smile at him.
he smiles back and silence falls over the two of you like a rain cloud in a cartoon.
“i hope we can do this again,” he begins and pulls you into an awkward hug. you fall into his embrace and wrap your arms limply around him.
after a few more seconds, you both part ways and you walk down the sidewalk feeling accomplished.
you know you managed to piss bucky off, you could feel it off him. the few times you’d catch glimpses at him, he looked like he could kill jason with his bare hands. only time would tell when he would-
“y/n are you fucking insane?” a familiar voice snaps you out your thoughts. “are you fucking insane?”
bucky was holding your arm tightly after he pulled you into a side alley. “no why?” you ask sweetly.
his hand closes around your throat so quickly you don’t even see it happen. “hm i don’t know. maybe because you’re walking home not even paying fucking attention. and then on top of that you act like you don’t fucking know me,” he begins and you can see the heat behind his eyes, “what type of man lets women walk home by themselves? i could kill him.”
with every word, he grip tightens to the point where you’re sure there’s marks on your neck.
his grip on your neck loosens, “james let it rest it’s been a year!” you groan and you can see every emotion pass his face.
“james? fucking hell y/n, you shut me out! i didn’t shut you out.” he begins, “you know i’ve wanted you since i met you and when i had you, you didn’t want me enough.”
“why weren’t you at my graduation?” you mumble and his eyes soften, “why weren’t you at my fucking graduation?” you yell and push him.
anger crosses his face again, “don’t fucking push me. i understand you’re upset but i have more of a right to be upset than you.”
you know it’s true but you can’t help but push his buttons, “why weren’t you at my fucking graduation?”
“i’m not telling you.”
“tell me.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
“y-“
“because i was to fucking afraid you’d break my heart again! and you fucking did. acting like you didn’t know me. that’s fucked up y/n.”
“it was so jason wouldn’t-“
“you know me y/n so never in your fucking life act like you don’t know me.” he groans before his lips attack yours.
like it’s an instinct you kiss back hard and with need. “oh fuck i’ve missed you.” he says, “but i’m not taking you here.”
the thought of it makes you wet and you rub your legs to create friction. bucky quickly takes notice and he chuckles, “such a needy slut.”
the sounds of him degrading you make you feel even more hot and bothered as he guides you down the street. you have a hard time keeping up with his steps but you make it to his apartment building and into his apartment in no time.
before you can take in your surroundings, buckys mouth is back on yours again. he backs you into his bed, causing your to fall back. “i missed you so much.” you whimper.
“i know baby.” he groans while pulling your leggings down revealing the black lace thong you opted to wear. “was this for him?” he ask and you stay quiet.
a hard smack lands on your thigh, “was this for him?” after his question he pulls on the band of your thong and snaps it onto your skin. “no.” you wince.
“no what?”
“no sir.”
“that’s what i thought.”
though you hadn’t talked to bucky in awhile, you always remembered how dominant he was. “sit up.”
you do so but you’re quickly pulled to the floor. as soon as bucky begins undoing his belt, you know what’s about to take place. “open your mouth.”
you do so slowly, he shoves his dick in your mouth forcing you to open wider. “fuccckkk.”
he thrust into your mouth at an uncontrollable speed, hitting the back of your throat each time. “mmmhphh.” you try to say around his length but the vibrations make him even more turn on.
‘you’re too big’
“you’re taking me so well baby.” he groans while continuously thrusting into your mouth. your grip on the back of his legs tighten as he slows his thrust down. “fuck!” he moans while pulling out your throat.
spit is rolling down your chest heading south. “y/n?”
“yes sir?” you mutter while looking up into his eyes. danger and mystery fill his eyes, “i’m gonna fuck every thought with another man out your mind.” he begins while pulling your onto the bed and flipping you on your stomach, “you want to know why?”
you’re so dazed you don’t answer until a smack lands on your ass and you gasp, “why?”
“because your mine.” and with that he rips the thong off with one movement and enters you. you gasp and moan at the feelings you’ve been longing for. “holy fuck i forgot how tight you were.”
“i’ve missed y- ugh.” you begin but his finger finds your clit as his other hands arches your back a bit more making him hit your g spot a different way.
“baby you feel so good.” he groans, his hips snapping into yours with desire.
he continues thrusting and rubbing your clit until he says something neither of you expect, “tell me your regret it.”
“what?” you moan.
“tell. me. you. regret. it.” he says sternly, smacking your ass with every word.
“tell you i regret what?” you say but he stops moving at that question.
“y/n..” he begins before pulling you into his chest and gripping your throat. “tell me you regret leaving me,” the thrust start again, “tell me your regret going on a date!”
the new angle he’s hitting feels ten times better. “tell me you fucking regret it.” he grunts while pinching your colt.
“i..” you begin but your orgasm is getting closer.
“y/n i swear if you don’t fucking say it.” bucky says before rubbing your clit again.
he builds your orgasm all the way up before slowing down, “bucky i was gonna cum.” you half whine while leaning into him for friction.
“well if i don’t get what i want, you’re shit out of luck.” he says and you purposely tighten around him, “you were too cock drunk to even understand what i was saying, so now tell me y/n. did you regret it?”
“yes sir.” you say and he starts thrusting again.
“say it.”
“i regret it.” you moan as he speeds up and your orgasm builds back up quickly. you lay your head on buckys shoulder as he continues fucking you maliciously. “oh fuck bucky i’m gonna come.”
“say it again.”
“i regret it.”
“say it again. i can feel you tightening around me.”
“i regret it sir.” a few seconds of panting and loaning pass before you speak again. “bucky i’m gonna-“
“say it.”
“i regret it!”
“say it.”
“i regret it!” this time you say it when as you come. white flashes take over your vision as you moan the loudest you think you’ve ever. arching your back into him, bucky fucks through your orgasm causing more and more pleasure as another builds up.
“holy fuck y/n, your pretty cunt was made for me.” bucky moans while his thrust become static. you immediately feel even more filled as bucky comes in you. “you feel so good.”
you fall one the bed with him still in you, at the feeling of your legs turning week. “bucky?”
his jeans are already pulled up when you look up at him. “yes?”
“i’m sorry.” you mumble. he smiled in return before hovering over you. “i want us to work, but you know how my brother is and.. i don’t know. it was easier to reject you than face the truth and what i wanted.”
“it’s okay.” he starts before plopping a small kiss on your mouth. “promise me something?”
“yes?”
“don’t leave me.”
a wave or sadness goes through you as you cup his face, “never. we aren’t done, remember?”
with that he smiles and rolls over so you’re on top of him. “i’ve never been done with you y/n. it’s just you and me.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky fanfic#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan masterlist#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebstanedit#bucky barnes drabble#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes
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Desperation
Summary: you and your boyfriend move to the city. Little do you know, your ex had plans of his own.
Ex!Reader x Billy Russo
4.3k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. DON'T BE SHOCKED THAT BILLY RUSSO IS A MANIPULATIVE STALKER. smut, swearing, alcohol, pet names, manipulation, stalking, lying, fluff, reconciliation, exs to lovers, cheating. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.
"Billy?" You think as you walk down the aisle of the grocery store towards the tall man in a dark suit, his hair almost the same as his had been the last time you saw him, "can't be him." You try to reason, he's probably still overseas and you haven't seen him, since… well, since he walked away from you all those years ago. You're just about to turn, having talked yourself out of it when the man turns and sees you.
"Hi,” he rakes his hand through his hair, “is that really you?" he squints, his head tilting to the side in curiosity.
"Billy," you smile, trying not to melt at how happy he seems to see you, “Hi.” you give him a small wave.
"How've you been?" He asks, stepping towards you, "I didn't know you lived in this neighbourhood." Billy lies. He knows you and your little boyfriend just moved into the apartment building next to his.
He wasn’t surprised that it only took a week to memorise your new routine. You always moved like clockwork, just like you did when he knew you all those years ago. It was only when he spotted you last night staring out into the city lights that he decided that it needed to be today. You have been living on takeout for a week and you always did hate that. You’ll need a home cooked meal after a week of moving and unpacking. It's perfect. A perfect place for a chance meeting of old flames.
"I've been okay," your eyes glance over him. He looks good, better than good. His suit is so perfectly tailored and shit, is that armani? Billy's shiny dark hair is combed back in a way that looks effortless but you know he would have taken years to perfect. You’re so focused on ogling him that you forget to say anything for a second, "We just moved here."
"Good choice,” he says, like he isn’t just itching to reach out and touch you, “it's a nice neighbourhood." He pauses, taking a step toward you, "we?" He asks, trying to feign ignorance like he hasn't kept tabs on you since he got back. Like he doesn’t know about Ash the guitarist or Leo the bar owner or Bobbie the artist. All of them, useless, appalling mimics, comparisons, terrible shadows of Billy and none of them as useless as James the entrepreneur who always claimed he was one shot from making it big.
"Yeah, Jim said there’s opportunity in the city. So we decided it would be easier to move," you shift, why is he looking at you like that? “Be where the action is and all that.”
"Jim, huh. Sounds nice." He takes a step back, hoping that you're going to follow his movement like you always used to. You’re looking at him almost like you used to, except now your eyes are darting to the left, seeing if anyone sees you, if you can run maybe?
"He is." You step forward, "he's a really good guy." He is, he’s nice, reliable, he loves you and he isn’t going to fuck off to a war the moment things start to get real.
"I'm happy for you." His hand reaches out wanting so badly to touch you after so long. But instead of holding your cheek like he wants to, it lands on your shoulder. Billy smiles so sincerely at you, and says the one thing he’s always known to be true, "all I ever wanted was for you to be happy."
"Hmm. Yeah " you step back from his hand, his intense gaze getting a little too much for you. Your stomach and heart swirling from the way those pretty brown eyes stare into your soul, "well it was nice seeing you. I better run."
"Wait," he calls as you turn to leave, catching your wrist in his hand, “before you go. I'd really like to catch up for coffee sometime."
"I don't know Billy."
"Please, it'll be fun. Can’t we just- It’s just coffee. It’s been what? 5 years?” 7 years, 6 months, 1 week and 3 days. “I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to.”
"One coffee." You give in so easily like you always have, scribbling your number down on one of Jimmy's business cards and handing it to Billy, "in case you deleted my number."
"I didn't."
"Just let me know when you're free."
XXx
"Hey,” Billy smiles as you answer on the fourth ring, “just wanted to see if you were free tomorrow?" Billy says as you answer the call and when you stay silent he keeps talking, "if you're not, that’s cool. We can catch up another time."
"I ah-"
"What's wrong?" He says, instantly recognising your tone. The tone that says you’re angry, but you don’t want to show it. Billy knows you're with him, he saw James. He watched the both of you go up the evaluator ten minutes ago.
"Now isn’t a good time." you stutter out, hanging up the call.
Billy picks up his glass, swirling it as he leans onto the large window of his apartment. He spots you in a second. Your hand on your hip while James turns away from you. Billy sips at his whiskey as you pace your apartment. James follows you, his arms flying around wildly. You spin on your heel, as Billy clicks open his phone, easily selecting your number and calling again under the guise of concern.
He knows the moment your phone starts ringing and you flip it over on the counter. James looks like he's yelling now. When the call rings out, Billy flicks open a message as you sit down in what looks like a huff.
Hi, you seemed upset. Hope everything is ok.
James is still swanning about, flapping his arms about as you sit on the sofa. Billy smiles, it took a lot of work to get you an apartment directly opposite his. It was worth every penny to get to see you argue with the man you up tried to replace him with. Like you could ever replace him, he sure as shit had a hard time trying to replace you.
Billy smirks as the theatrics of the rest of the argument unfolds, the scotch in his hand empty as your boyfriend starts to throw clothes into a bag. You follow him, trying desperately to get James’ attention. He should have put mics in your apartment, so he could listen to this man tell you how insecure he is, how he knows he’ll never compare to the love you shared, tell you he knows how much better you’d be without him and how it eats away at him.
You’re crying, Billy hates it, but it needs to be done. He pours another drink as the idiot finally leaves with his bag. Billy waits. Waiting for the call that he knows is coming. Who else could you call? You don’t know anyone else in the city, there's only one person in this city of millions who knows you well enough to make you feel safe. So, he waits. Waits for the call that he knows is coming.
It only takes 2 hours. He’s been watching you, you cried into the couch for 30 minutes before grabbing a bottle of wine and slipping into the bedroom. He resists the urge to go to you, to wrap his arms around you and dry those pretty tears. An hour later you reappear with a tub of ice-cream and lay down on the couch. He’s on his third glass of whiskey, when his phone starts to vibrate. He waits a moment, setting his glass down before reclining and reading the text.
Kitten: Billy, are you free now?
Billy: I am. Is everything alright? You seemed upset
Kitten: Fine, just have some time to kill.
Billy: Do you know Cool Beans? It’s on the corner of-
Kitten: yeah, The red brick place? I know it. Can we meet in 30?
Billy: I’ll see you there.
Billy arrives a few seconds after you, following you down the street will do that. He watched you, your shoulders hunched over, your pace quicker than he thought it would be. You must be desperate to see him. Good.
He enters the cafe, immediately spotting you sitting at a table near the back wall. You look so beautiful in those yoga pants, your pretty hair tied up in a bun. He only sees that your face is still fresh from where you tried to wash the tears away, when you lift it from your hands.
"Didn't mean to be late,” Billy lies as he approaches your table, "got caught up with a work thing.” his face changes to concern as he gets closer and he can see the red in your eyes. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying?”
"Yeah,” you rub your eyes and smile up at him, “I only just got here."
Billy spends the next hour asking you a million questions, like he doesn’t already know. Sure, he doesn’t need you to tell him, but he loves to hear you talk and the way you tell your story. He loves how talking distracts you and you start to smile.
You’re on your second cup of coffee and your third piece of cake when you let out a sigh. Small tears run down your cheek as Billy reaches out to hold your hand. “You can tell me, maybe I can help?” he tries to comfort you, without reaching too far too fast.
Resting your head in your hand you look up at him. Whispering about how your boyfriend decided to go on a fishing trip with his friends suddenly. How you thought you’d be spending the weekend together and now you’ve been left in a city you don’t know by yourself. You leave out some of the hurtful things James said to you, brushing them aside as you squeeze on Billy's hand. You really want to talk to him, to sort this out, but he’s screening your calls and all because you had a call from an old friend. You confess all this to him and he just stares at you, his eyes sympathetic and you feel like you’ve crossed a line. “Sorry, you just wanted a coffee and I’ve dropped all this on you.” you start to pull your hand away, but Billy gives you a tight squeeze.
"Why don't you come hang out with me? I don’t live far from here."
"I don't know. I’m sure I’ve already ruined your day.”
“Don’t be silly. It'll be fun. We can watch legally blonde and eat junk food.”
“You promise?” you wipe the tears from your cheek, “I feel like I just lumped all my problems on you and now you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“I am. I just thought you might wanna see a friendly face,” he pauses, standing up and grabbing your coat, “maybe not be alone.”
“I really don’t want to be a burden.”
“You could never burden me.” Billy helps you slip on your coat, and when you duck away from him he steps in front of you, “I mean it. Never.”
“Thanks,” you give him such a tiny smile.
“I’m just down the street.”
“Alright, lead the way.” you agree, thoughts of sitting alone in your apartment looking over everything. Replaying the fight over and over again/ Wondering where James could actually be, is he going to come back? This is exactly what you need, a distraction and if the distraction happens to be a tall, handsome, expensive suit wearing old friend, who are you to complain? Maybe today is just the luckiest unlucky day ever.
You walk together, your shoulders brushing as you make your way down the busy street. Billy walks you in a circle, around several unnecessary buildings hoping that you don't notice that his apartment building is opposite yours. But as you approach the glass towers you point out your new place on the other side of the road.
“Weird, what are the chances,” you ponder, thinking it must be fate that Billy lives just across the way from you. Maybe moving to the city was the universe's way of telling you things are looking up. Billy’s changed so much since the last time you saw him on that cold winter night. He’s grown, seems more mature, more at ease in his own skin. But the way he looks at you, the feelings that swim still inside your heart, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You glance over at him and he’s still smiling at you, in that soft, warm way that calls to you.
“Yeah, that is weird. Small worlds huh?”
“Mm, must be.” You shrug, following him up to the elevator.
When you make it to his apartment Billy tries not to be smug about how much bigger it is than yours. About how his huge windows have a clear view of the city and how you're already taking off your coat and making yourself at home.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Yeah that'd be nice. Do you gave any-”
“Prosecco? I think I have a bottle here somewhere,” He opens the fridge with 3 bottles in it, ready and waiting for you.
“Thanks,” taking the glass he offers you. You relax into the large sofa, resting your drink on your knee.
“So you had a fight and he left huh?” Billy asks, sitting down next to you. A drink in his hand as his arm spreads out behind you on the couch, “Seems a bit extreme.”
“Basically. I can't believe he'd be so jealous.” You huff, taking a sip of your wine, “we haven't seen each other in years. And he just- I don’t get it. That he could think-” you roll your eyes, trying not to see the way Billy is looking at you.
“I wouldn't have called if I knew it was going to be a problem for you.” he gives your shoulder a squeeze, “You should’ve just said.” like he would’ve listened, like he wouldn’t have tried again and again.
“I know, he's just being irrational. Hopefully he'll come around.” you shuffle, adjusting yourself on the couch and resting your head on Billy's shoulder. It feels nice, safe. Like for the first time in hours you can breathe again.
“He's an idiot if he doesn't,” he moves to wipe away a tear that's falling down your cheek, “he'd be an idiot to lose you.”
“What does that make you?” you ask, peering up at him, forgetting just how close your faces are with your head resting on his shoulder.
“Biggest idiot ever,” his sincerity beaming into you, “or luckiest man alive, to run into you in that store. Take your pick.”
“Billy.”
“Kitten.”
“Haven’t heard that in a very long time,” the mention of your old nickname sends a shiver down your spine and the blood pumping into your veins like it always did when he called you that.
“Haven't said it in a long time either.” his hand brushes along your cheek, “I missed you, Kitten.”
“Billy.”
“Do you want to watch the movie?” he asks, so softly his fingers gently stroking over your cheekbones, “I can move, if it makes you more comfortable.” he doesn’t want to, doesn't want to ever let you go now that he’s finally got his hands on you. "Or you can yell and scream at me," he suggests, "like old times. “Take some of that anger out on me." He hopes you take the bait, desperately wants you too. But this is important, you need to choose this. Even if he had made getting you to this choice possible.
“Is that what you want?" you ask, pulling your head back.
"What I want? I told you already, all I want is for you to be happy."
"Oh." You stand, hands on your hips, "how could that possibly be true?" You turn from him as you start to walk away, "I know that's a lie."
"It's not a lie, Kitten."
"It fucking is." You spin, your eyes glaring daggers into him. Fuck, you're beautiful, "you want me to be happy?" You stomp, "I was happy. Once. A long time ago." You shout, stamping towards him with your finger pointed at him. So pretty when you're angry. "You were the person who took that away from me."
"I miss you."
"You miss me?" You slap at his chest, "it's your fault you don't have me!"
"I need you."
"The only thing you ever needed in your life was violence. You never needed me!" You feel the fury in your hands start to shake as Billy lets you slap at him.
"I always needed you," he stops your hands holding them close to his heart, "I needed you so badly it scared the shit outa me."
"So you ran." You pull your hands free, glaring up at him with such defiance in those pretty eyes.
"I did." He reaches out for you, but you step back, "not my finest moment. Probably the stupidest thing I ever did."
"So what now, Billy? We’re just meant to be friends?" You throw your hands up in the air, "pretend like whatever we had is gone?"
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what William?"
"Don't."
"What William? Tell me I'm wrong."
"I think we’re getting too heated. We just need to take a breath." He hopes you take the bait, that you see his lie for what it is. So he turns away, " you don't mean that."
"This conversation is not over, William." He can hear you stomping towards him, "don't you fucking turn away from me again." You shout grabbing him by wrist and slapping in his face when he turns back to you.
"You feel better now?"
"No. You asshole. I don't feel better!" You attempt to slap him again, but he catches your hand in his.
"Stop."
"Fuck you."
"Yeah, fuck me. I'm an asshole." He stares down at you, watching your eyes as he releases your hand. "What are you going to do about it?" His eyes trace over your tongue as it slips over your lips.
"William." Your hand wraps onto his collar pulling his lips to yours and you melt into his kiss. Shit, did he always taste this sweet? Yeah, he did. But with the tang over whiskey on his tongue you may become addicted. His hands slip into your hair, holding your face so close as you cling to him. His heart soars as your body presses into him, his hands unable to control the way they roam over your body.
You can’t stop kissing, neither of you saying anything as you rush to undress each other as he guides you both towards his bedroom.
You fall back onto the bed together, both panting from the lack of air. "Are you sure about this Kitten?" He asks you, he needs to know. He craves it, the knowledge that you want him just as badly as he wants you.
"Is It wrong to want this?" You ask, your hand already travelling down his torso towards his cock, "that I missed it?"
"You miss me too or just my dick?"
"I missed all of you."
"Are you worried he will find out?”
“I hadn’t even-” he cuts off your train of thought.
“We keep this between us." He slows down the pace of your hand, gently pressing kisses into your neck, "I won't tell a soul, just tell me you want me."
"I want you." That's all he needs to hear as he grabs your legs wrapping around your waist as he leans down over you.
“Tell me again.”
“I want you, Billy.”
"Fuck, you’re so wet already."
"I am"
"For me?"
"Yes, Billy."
"Good girl, now open up for me." He says as his cock prodding at your pussy, itching to get inside. He swipes it up and down, gathering your wetness on his cock, "let me in, kitten." He moans as he reaches the end of you.
He kisses you fiercely, the feeling of coming home overwhelms him as he thrusts into you. His hands gripping tight at your hips, his chest weighing down on your as your fingers roam over his back.
"I missed you," he breaks the kiss, his nose bumping yours as he stares down in your eyes, "did you miss this?"
"Missed you, so much." You moan in reply, your nails digging into his back. You need him closer, need his hands all over you and his marks on your pretty skin and his name on your lips.
"You're so fucking beautiful."
"Billy, you-" you pant his cock grinds into you, brushing against your g spot.
"That's it. Clamp down on me, Kitten." His hands slip up from your thighs, grabbing a better hold at your waist so he can pound his cock into you, "Shit, you feel too good. I need to- slow."
But you're so close, you can't slow down. You grind your hips into him, feeling the head of his cock flexing inside you and making your legs start to twitch, "you're getting close"
"Please don't stop, Billy."
"I won't." He moves you, grabbing hold of your waists and pulling you up onto his lap. "I got you." His strong arms lift you, fucking you onto his cock, your head barely hanging on as your clit starts to brush against his lean torso.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back from your tits and making him look up at you, "I missed you."
"I love you." He admits as his fingers bite into your side, "I love you." You free his hair and his face slides into your tits, exhaling into the soft flesh, biting and pinching with his mouth.
"You-" you try to breathe, "you can't mark me Billy."
"Say that you love me." He moves to the other breast swirling your nip in his mouth, his eyes not leaving yours.
"You can't- he'll"
"Mean it."
You grab at his hair again, pulling him off you as your hand connects with his face, "I love you."
"Do it again."
"I love you." You slap him again, this time following it up with a kiss as his hands slip up your back and cradles you close to him.
"My Kitten." He sinks you back into the mattress, his whole body towering over you as he moves faster and more desperately. "Fucking perfect Kitten." His cock is so deep inside you when he starts to grind down into you, "cum for me." He keeps it in, the grinding sends your legs wild as your back arches underneath him, "what a pretty girl," he whispers as his lip brush over yours, "cum Kitten." He grips at your thighs, holding your pussy over his cock when you try to squirm away, "cum for me."
You moan his name, along with a garbled cry that sounds like a chicken let loose as your back arches all the way off the bed, your tits push into his chest and your eyes start to cross.
"Keep cumming Kitten," Billy's cock throbs inside of you and the wave still going, "fuck I'm so close." He pulls out just a little, before plunging back in, "where do you want it?"
"Insi-" you try to say as another wave of pleasure washes over you.
"Kitten," he smiles, as his own pleasure is reaching its peak, "you want to take my cum inside you?"
"Yes."
"You want me to fill you up?".
"Please Billy."
"Good girl." He starts to shake, his eyes open wide as he watches you still riding out your own pleasure, "I love you." He screams as he floods your insides with his cum.
He doesn't stop and within seconds you feel a third wave washing over you and your whole body starts to twitch as your mind goes numb, "I love you." You whisper ,your words hoarse and breathless as you start to gently comb your fingers through his hair.
"Kitten," he whispers into your shoulder as his whole body drops on to you, "you ok?"
"Great, beyond great."
"Not angry anymore?"
"No."
"Good, I'm going to roll us. You ready?" You give him a small nod and Billy rolls you on top of him. His fingers dance along your spine as you rest on his chest. "I'll grab you some water in a minute. I just wanna hold you a bit longer."
"Mm, this is nice." You start to pepper kisses on his chest, "I missed this the most."
"The angry fight sex?" He laughs, brushing your hair from your face when you look up at him.
"No, the cuddles after." You reach up and boop his nose, "you're always so sweet after."
"How could I ever stay mad at you when you take me so well? My pretty Kitten." He holds you tighter, like if he doesn't you're going to drift away again. “And then you smile at me like that.”
"See, sweet."
"Only for you."
"Hmm," you ponder, still wrapped up in your afterglow, "no one ever loved me the way you do." you whisper the throw away thought.
"They couldn't.” he gives you a tiny kiss on your hand, “Noone else appreciated how spectacular you are."
"I'm not, I-".
"You are the most incredible person I've ever met. And I never knew what you wanted with me or what I did to deserve you, but I know that my life is not right without you in it. In whatever way I can have you."
"Billy what are we going to do about-" he cuts you off with a kiss.
"Don't." He pleads, "not while I'm still inside you. This is all I need," he gives you a squeeze, "to know that you're mine, that you love me too."
"I'm not yours."
"You have always been mine, Kitten."
#reader x billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo#female!reader x billy russo#billy russo x you#billy russo fanfic#billy russo x female reader#the punisher fanfic
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Monday of Appreciation: Part 105
Hello everyone, Smite here!
Okay, it's been a while, I know. It genuinely feels like I'm extremely far behind because there are so, so many stories I want to (back)-read. This is a nice problem to have that I should not be getting stressed over but with my "to-read-list" passing 50 easily, I can't help but feel like I should do another MoA right now...
... so that's what I'm going to do. 10 stories, down below, have fun!
-1-
@okaylikesmomo: Exchange Part 2: Flower ft. Blackpink
These two parts have been insane and never merely okay, so now we have to call you "insanelikesmomo" or something.
-2-
@ggidolsmuts: Shopping ft. Jinsoul
I'm a simple man: I see ddeun story, I save for later, I read one day, [CENSORED], I'm happy :)
-3-
@sinswithpleasure: Girls Love Girls [And Boys] ft. Kep1er Yujin, Mashiro, Xiaoting
Now this is something I wish I had written but also... thank you, Sins, for letting me enjoy this without putting thought (only horny) into it.
-4-
@praeluxius: folie a deux Part 1 ft. Yujin, Wonyoung
The first two parts each had a scene that each MELTED. MY. BRAIN. For Part 1, it was ofc the endless edge, tease and go read it for yourself.
I'm also not gonna spoil Part 2 because I...
-5-
@aliceiwk: Multitasking ft. futa!Karina (F.Reader)
Tell your boss that Karina is fucking ypi and that you are her cocksleeve slut and will rather get creamed by her everyday then work another second. Then hang up.
-6-
@tinyidle: For the Memories ft. Yuqi (F.Reader)
Friends to FWB very underappreciated, we usually start with FWB part lol
-7-
@smuttysabina: "I am" a Bitch ft. Rei
Bitchy Rei that uses you like a toy, when is this going to happen to me??? I love how this is so smuttysabina, lmao
-8-
@existslikepristin: B-Side: [title] ft. JiU, Gahyeon (TW)
A certain type of non-con, dub-con, cnc, however you like to interpret this. I was thrilled, a new ELP smut and I was even more thrilled when it turned out just as excellent as their earlier works!
-9-
@capslocked: Honne, Tatame and the other one ft. Yuna
A Caps fic with Yuna needs no explanation
-10-
@praeluxius: folie a deux Part 2 ft. Wonyoung
... can't wait for Part 3 ;)
That's it for this week (and a couple more probably LOL), I hope y'all have a great time and make 2024 your year!
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a body of impulses
chapter 2: feeling like unraveling
lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)
★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★
wc: 9.0k+
warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n
summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.
author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!
You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door.
It never comes.
He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?
He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.
That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.
So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.
“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”
Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”
“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.
“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.
“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”
“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.
“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”
“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off.
“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.
“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.
“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.
“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”
You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”
Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.
Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy.
Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.
10 hours without talking to you?
I think you can manage it.
I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.
It’s a risk.
Will there be a reward?
…I’ll text you when we land.
He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile.
It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly.
You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.
“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.
“What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”
“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.
“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.
“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”
“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”
“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.
“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said.
Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”
“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts.
“Maybe!”
“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input.
“I am inside, Leave it.”
You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.
You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.
“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”
“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.
“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.
“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!”
“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”
“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.
“Oh come on, that was nothing.”
“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”
“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”
“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”
“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.
“You know I do.”
“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”
“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.
“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”
“... Don’t do this to me now.”
“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.
“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”
“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding.
“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”
He chuckles.“I will.”
When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.
Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.
Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.
She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage.
Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.
Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.
Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect.
When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment.
The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking.
“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”
“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.
“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.
“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.
“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.
“Yeah...”
“No?”
“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”
You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.
“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.
“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”
“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”
“That’s smart.”
“I know, I am smart.”
“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”
“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”
“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.
“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.
“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.
Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”
“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water.
“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”
“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be.
“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.
“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat.
“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks.
You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.
“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold.
“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks.
The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.
It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it.
He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it.
“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.
“Very me?”
“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”
“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.
“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”
“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?” His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.
“It’s better than a camping mat.”
“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”
Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.
“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.
“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”
You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs.
“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.
You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock.
“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves.
“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”
He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.
It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough.
“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.
“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”
You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.
“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.
“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”
Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.
He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it.
“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”
Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing.
“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”
That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure.
His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly.
Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.
He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”
“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.
“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets.
“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.
“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.
“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”
“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.
“We aren’t together?”
“You haven’t asked me!”
“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you.
You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”
He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”
You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”
Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.
Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.
Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.
But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty.
Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.
You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.
It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting.
You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers.
Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.
“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.
“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”
“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”
“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance.
“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.”
Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.
They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.
But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.
When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“...”
“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.
“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.”
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“I feel like a traitor.”
“Why?”
“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety.
“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.
“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”
“Well then, why do you agree?”
“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”
“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.
“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”
“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.
“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.”
“It sounds like you already know what you think.”
“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.
“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.
“That’s not true-”
“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.”
“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”
There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.
“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”
“Yeah, yeah I am.”
“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.
“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”
“No, you did not.”
“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”
“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll talk to you later today.”
“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence.
“I’ll try.”
It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter.
Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.
“What’s going on? When did you get here?”
“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”
“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading.
“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.
“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”
Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.
“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”
A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.
“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.
“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”
“Dad, why?”
“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.”
The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family.
You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known.
When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.
When you touch the Earth, everything sings.
© secondhand-snow 2024
#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#succession#succession fanfic#alexander skarsgard#lukas matsson#lukas matsson x reader#lukas matsson x you#lukas matsson x oc#lukas matsson x ofc#lukas matsson smut#lukas matsson fic#lukas matsson fanfic#lukas matsson imagine#snow’s fics#a body of impulses#smut
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Thinking about; C.SC dog walk meet cute
I just watched two people walking their lil doggies meet and greet each other like it's a regular occurrence and it's cute af so now this is on my mind
Wordcount; 833
A/N- I didn't name "your" dog both because my mind blanked and I thought you can just imagine it to be called whatever you want that way <3
-Other Writing - More Coups thoughts; 1, 2 & 3 [all three are NSFW]-
A month or so back you moved to a new neighbourhood with your cute lil doggo
Of course, a dog needs walking and your dog likes routine a hell of a lot so every morning you take her for a walk down the same route
And although it's barely 6am during these morning walks thanks to your job starting at 7am, there's always this guy walking his own dog
Every morning regardless of the weather, you see this guy in sweatpants and hoodie, hood pulled up to shadow his face walking his little white dog
It always amuses you that although the guy looks like he couldn't care less how he looks, the dog is always brushed neatly with cute bows and clips and an adorable raincoat or jumper when the weather calls for it.
You've definitely noticed the way that when the dog is wearing a jacket, the man is wearing one that almost matches
It's pretty fucking adorable, really
It takes a few weeks and just vague waves of greeting from across the street before you two actually cross paths properly
On this day, there's some kind of worker barrier on the path ahead of you, so you cross the road and walk on the other side
Your dog is not happy about this at all so you literally have to carry her across the road and when you put her down, she plops her backside down and refuses to move or look at you
"Having trouble?" The amused male voice makes you look up from where you're crouched in front of your dog trying to convince her to keep walking and you'll cross back over in a minute when it's possible
Of course, it's the hoodie guy, from this close you can see that he's got a face mask on and you briefly wonder if he always does
Shame, you had been kind of curious about what he looks like
"Yeah, she's a creature of habit." You sigh and point over to the barrier causing him to look over and hum in understanding
"Ah, yeah, Kkuma is the same." He motions to his dog, today wearing a cute frilly harness with a matching bow between her ears.
"You look absolutely precious, Kkuma." You inform, causing the dog to perk up and trot towards you. "May I?" You ask the man, hand lifted a little. He nods and you think he smiles by the curve of his eyes, so you look back down and offer a hand to Kkuma who sniffs it then happily moves closer to allow you to give her attention.
"And may I?" The man asks, now crouched too, closer than before by a fair amount, motioning to your own dog. You nod so he reaches out.
At first, your dog entirely ignores him but he makes a soft little sound and that gets her attention
Soon you're both crouched there petting and cooing over the other's dog, each of whom is lapping up the attention happily.
"Ah, we should really go." The man comments after catching sight of the time on his expensive watch. "Gotta get this one to the sitter ready for me to get to work."
"Oh, same, actually." You agree after checking your own much cheaper watch so you both get up
Just as you're leaving he calls out. "Hey uh, it's nice to meet you, maybe we can make this the new routine?"
"Maybe, if you tell me your name, stranger with a cute dog."
"It's Seungcheol," You tell him yours in return which he repeats softly. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Same time tomorrow,"
It's not many mornings after before Seungcheol asks if you two would like to join them for their evening walk
And then you both develop new evening habits and discover a new route to walk together
Conveniently, it takes you by the lake and stalls there where he always buys you both a hot drink if it's cold enough and something else if he can't use that excuse
It occurs to you early on that the evening walks feel very much like dates
But officially, your first date comes after a few weeks of morning and evening walks when Seungcheol finally reaches for your hand to entwine your fingers and asks if you'd like to meet earlier tomorrow for dinner
He says you, of course, can bring your dog because he plans to cook for you at his place anyway and Kkuma will love to spend more time with her bestie and-
You cut him off by pressing your connected hands to his lips
You wanted to kiss him but decided it should probably wait until at least the first date
And of course, as soon as Seungcheol has his arm around you on the couch after dinner to watch a movie, both dogs curled up together on Kkuma's bed, you take your chance and kiss him
When you leave later, it's with another kiss and a promise of 'same time tomorrow'
A/N; Alternative title is "Same time tomorrow"
#seventeen scenario#seventeen x reader#seventeen seungcheol scenario#seventeen fluff#seventeen seungcheol x reader#seventeen seungcheol x you#seventeen scoups scenario#seventeen seungcheol imagine#seventeen scoups imagine#seventeen scoups fluff#seventeen scoups x reader#seventeen scoups x you#seventeen imagine
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hello!! it took me a bit more than a week to post part 2 of my fic, im so glad i got so many nice comments on my previous part :(( yall made me so happy omg i hope you enjoy this part too.
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
warnings: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail, ass play. (please tell me if I missed something)
wc: 4.4k
what have i done? you were currently turning and tossing yourself around your bed, trying to proceeds yesterdays events, burying your head into your pillow. what have i done?? you always wanted to press a pillow onto your head until you couldnt breath anymore, why not do it now? This would definitely be a better opportunity than go to your lectures right now and get yourself killed by a certain violet haired man.
how did you even get this confident? you tried to blame everything to the alcohol you drank yesterday, your head hurting in approval. sober you would've never done that this smoothly.
you were a bit proud of yourself though. you showed him who the boss was, even if it was just for a night. maybe, just maybe, he will leave you alone now?
curiosity took over you and you grabbed your phone, opening your gallery quickly, being greeted with a very special photo you took the night before.
scaramouche right before you on the screen, eyes teary, mouth wide open with your spit on his tongue, waiting patiently like a good boy. you could clearly see the bulge he had in his pants, grinding steadily against your leg. you can still feel the way he grinded himself on your thigh, and just thinking about the night before made your mouth water and pussy clench. for fucks sake. he really was gorgeous like this.
your timer went off again, reminding you that you should be leaving your bed and getting ready, and the urge to just turn it off completely was very high, but you decided to fight these feelings and stand up slowly instead. you cant hide forever. at some point you will have to meet him again. you aint no pussy.
your head was still hurting like a bitch, but you tried to ignore it. you took a quick shower to get rid of the remaining alcohol and cigarette smell you had on your body and hair, stepping out of the shower and drying your hair properly before changing into you clothes.
after a few minutes you heard your doorbell ring, so you walked up to the door and opened it for a certain blonde guy who stood in your doorframe.
"morning." albedo said in his typical monotonous voice, carrying two small bags with breakfast for the both of you to eat on your way to uni.
"you are absolutely saving my ass."
"my specialty" he answered, handing you your sandwich after you put on your shoes and closed the door behind yourself. you could see that he also wasn't feeling too well right now, still hungover from the day before. but you werent feeling one ounce better.
on your way to uni, you kept thinking about the night before. you have absolutely no idea how you ended up like this. this definitely wasnt your first sexual experience, and you do get your fair share of fun every now and then, but you have never been this controlling over anybody, but fuck, did it feel amazing.
"are you feeling alright?" you heard albedo ask next to you, looking at you through his glasses. he must've noticed that you were sunk in thoughts. "huh? yeah. was just thinking about the party yesterday, my head hurts like a bitch. how did i even get home?"
the intelligent man next to you smiled a bit against his cup of coffee. "apparently yanfei brought us home, we certainly did drink a lot yesterday. she really is a responsible person. need to thank h..."
you werent really listening to him anymore. its not that you couldnt, your mind was just racing right now. does he know what happened? you asked yourself. scaramouche and you werent really in a private area yesterday. did anyone see us?
"wow, y/n, you really seem to be lost in thoughts. care to share?"
you instantly moved your head to him, looking at him with wide eyes before coughing a bit and shaking your head. "im sorry, im just.. really tired, thats all."
"Well, at least we dont have many lectures today. you can go back home quickly and nap some more." he worried about you. albedo always cared about you, just like you cared about him. it was a really nice friendship you two had, but you just didnt feel like telling him anything. he would beat your ass once you told him what you did.
after a few minutes of a silent walk, you arrived at the campus. you threw your empty wrappers away and headed straight to the lecture hall, your heart beating faster and faster with every step you took. fuck. he's gonna kill you.
you opened the door to the lecture hall, letting albedo enter first before following him into the room. it was quite full already, and your eyes immediately scanned the crowd. you easily spotted childe, columbina and dottore, their unusual and fancy clothes catching your eyes quickly. but no scaramouche yet.
you sat down with albedo somewhere in the back of the hall, hiding from the view of others. well, that was your goal at least. you expected a furious little man to storm into the room and peel your skin of alive of your body, but.. he never came?
you heard the girls in the row in front of you talk and couldnt help but listen to their conversation.
"Scara is not here yet.."
"Yeah of course. did you see how he hit the bottle yesterday? couldnt stop drinking, especially at the end."
"he seemed a bit anxious, im worried.."
"nah. probably just couldnt tolerate the weed properly."
The first girl really seemed to be concerned about him, and you couldnt help but suppress a gag at her attitude. just wanted to get into his pants. oh if she knew.
at some point the professor came into the hall and started the lecture without scaramouche joining the class, and you sighed in relieve. you were save, at least for now.
☆
You didnt have a lot of lectures today, so you went back home rather quickly that day. albedo joined you once again, and you two walked into your apartment, immediately throwing yourself onto your bed. it wasnt just your head hurting like a bitch, albedo also felt really exhausted, so no one was surprised when you both just fell asleep right then and there.
after a few hours you opened your eyes again, a snoring blonde still sleeping next to you and your head still woozy from the nap you took. you noticed how your stomach grumbled and stood up slowly, going into the small kitchen that your 25 m² apartment had to wash your face.
you didnt wake albedo up yet, letting him sleep his hangover away. instead, you started making some food for the both of you. you didnt have a lot of food in your fridge. of course not, you are a busy student in their last year, all you survive off is noodles and toast.
you really were hungry, and a normal sandwich wouldnt make anyone of you two feel satisfied, so you decided to make some pasta with tomato sauce. simple and easy.
while cooking, your thoughts wandered once again to the night before, but before you could form any proper thoughts, your phone lighted up. you dried your hands and took a look at it. a new message from.. unknown number?
+76 628 ×××××××: delete the picture.
...oh. it wasn't hard to guess who this message is from. your stomach dropped a bit and you gulped, your heart beating a tiny bit faster.
you: where do you have my number from?
its not a perfect reply to him, but at least you had a few minutes time to collect yourself and not be this nervous anymore. he's not here right now. he can't do anything to you. you are save. you saved his number into your phone.
scaramouche: ask me something more difficult next time.
scaramouche: delete. this. picture.
you licked your lips, stirring the food on the stove before it might burn, collecting your thoughts. he's not here right now. you can do whatever you want.
you took another look at the picture you took of him, smirking, unable to control or suppress it.
you: no.
it didn't take him long to answer, probably being active on his phone to reply to you as fast as possible.
scaramouche: im gonna fucking end you myself.
at this point you were used to his threats. wasn't the first time, nor will it be the last time it'll happen. every time you fucked up a lab report, a presentation or anything college related that might affect him negatively, you got tripped, your property destroyed and a few insults thrown at you. it was nothing new.
you: *attached image*
you: oh look how adorable you look. wish you'd always be this much of a good boy for me. my spit suits you.
you heard a few broken and hurtful moans at the other end of the room, so you looked up from your phone. albedo woke up and streched himself, scratching his stomach and rubbing his eyes open.
"..morn'ng" he mumbled, and you put your phone back into your back pocket. "its not quite morning, albedo." you answered while he tried to get used to the light that shined in your room. he took a look outside of your window and saw how dark it was. "what time is it?"
"7:16 pm" you answered while you set the table for the both of you. "made some food."
you could feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you bit your lip from the inside in response. it was scaramouche again, but you couldnt check your phone now. albedo would ask, and you didnt feel like telling him anything.
"thank you, really sweet of you." albedo said before excusing himself into the small bathroom you had. your apartment really was small, but that was all you could afford with your part time job.
the second albedo closed the door you had your phone in your hand again, checking the message you got.
scaramouche: ...
scaramouche: dont do this now..
scaramouche: delete the pic. fucking bitch
you giggled a bit at his reply, quickly typing in your reply.
you: i really love coffee, do you know that? why dont you bring me one tomorrow and ill think about it.
scaramouche: you cant be forreal now.
you didnt answer him anymore, putting your phone away and finish setting the table before putting some food into albedos and your plate, right before he came back from the bathroom. you hoped he didnt notice your more-than-usual happy mood, nor the slightly red blush in your face.
"washed ur hands?" you asked.
"no, ew." he answered jokingly, finally awake again. you just laughed at his reply before you both sat down and ate together.
☆
the next day you were even excited to go to uni. you felt completely different than the day before. there is absolutely no way scaramouche will do anything to annoy you, too afraid of you to post the picture.
last night, you thought a bit. would you really post a picture of scaramouche on your lap, horny and full of your spit? probably not. you wouldnt have the balls to post it. but scaring him? oh yes. you like this. you let him believe you would do it. maybe he will stop bullying you now in uni? that would be too good to be true.
you ate your breakfast on the way to uni. albedo left later the night before, and you agreed with him to meet up on campus right before the lecture started.
"hey!" you could hear someone say behind you rather aggressively, and you looked behind you before slowly standing still. of course it was your favourite indigo haired man.
you could tell by the look on his face that he'd be everywhere else than here, in front of you, with a fucking coffee in his hand that he might throw all over your face and hair (like it happened quite a few times already.)
but instead of humiliating you, he passed you the coffee while biting his lip furiously, trying not to burst out in a tide of various creative insults.
"well that was easy." you said mockingly, looking down on the cup he handed you. it was warm and looked good. you opened the lid of the paper cup, checking the content.
cappuccino and... spit.
"thanks for that i guess." you chuckle and looked at him again, his face completely red from embarrassment and shame. how did he fall so low to bring you coffee?
"you know what to do now." he demanded, but you only shaked your head. "dont feel like it. you are being really nice to me. i guess ill keep the picture for a few more weeks."
you started walking away slowly, heading to uni, but scaramouche didnt let you go this easily, following you like a desperate man. he knew you wouldnt delete his fucking downfall of a photo just like that.
"i said, delete. the. picture. you will fucking regret this." he threatened you again, but you acted unbothered and took a sip of the cup. you could feel scaramouche cringe next to you, weirded out by you drinking the mixture in the paper cup. "you were humping my leg like a bitch in heat, im not grossed out by a bit of your spit."
"DONT SAY THIS out loud" he yelled at you at the beginning but then lowered his voice, noticing how people around the both of you are looking over. "please." he then said defeated. "just tell me what you want and ill fucking give it to you. why do you wanna ruin my reputation this badly?"
you couldnt help but roll your eyes and continue walking. after all these months and years of him humiliating and bullying you, he dares to ask you for something like that? how bold.
"just write the next lap report for our project like a good boy and the picture will be save with me." the violett haired man next to you blushed at the weird compliment you gave him but tried to hide his face in his jacket. cute.
☆
getting close to campus, scaramouche stopped following you like a lost kid and instead turned into another street. he really didnt feel like being seen on campus with you.
when you arrived, you already saw albedo standing near the building, and you smiled at him while walking to him. you threw the coffee away before hugging him. "morning."
"morning. didnt like your drink?" he pointed out the drink you threw away while still being half full.
"yeah, the barista fucked it up i guess." you lied while heading into the lecture room. poor albedo, you've been so insincere to him the past few days. you did feel bad, but you already knew about the lecture he will give you once he'll find out.
the room was only half as full as yesterday, todays course only taking in half as many students as yesterdays. but of course a special bully is still sitting in the crowd. you could feel the eyes of him following you on your way to the back rows, but you tried to ignore him.
scaramouche was sitting in the middle of his friend group at the front of the hall, everyone but him happily talking and laughing. he just sat there and sulked angrily, scribbling on his tablet.
you sat down with albedo next to yanfei, and she smiled and started some small talk with the both of you (you didnt actually listen to what she said) until the professor came and started his lecture.
"hey, y/n?" albedo asked you in a low voice, trying to not bother anyone around them during the lecture.
"yeah?"
"wanna head to the library later today? i have a few things to study for and protocolls to prepare"
you looked at the professor but nodded at albedo, thinking it was a good idea. you'd probably still do the lab protocols that you just told scaramouche to do, unsure if he will do them himself. you didnt feel like failing classes just because he didnt hand in the work you both were supposed to do. "sounds like a plan."
☆
you were currently heads deep reading into a few books which laid on the table, albedo sitting in front of you with the exact same book, trying to answer the questions on the reports. "..identity test and purity test of lidocaine hydrochloride?"
you were both searching for the answers in the books that laid all over the wide library table, but no answers. you sighed defeatedly, not even trying to be silent.
it was pretty late at night, 10:37 pm the watch on the wall told you, and you still werent done yet. it felt like you two were the only people in here, everyone else already left. if you two wouldve been more productive, you'd be done by now too, but instead you decided to spend extra time in the cafeteria to talk about anything and everything.
you rubbed your eyes before closing the book, standing up and stretching yourself while your blonde best friend followed you with his eyes. "im trying to find a better book. ill be back in a few minutes."
he nodded and you headed to the tons shelves, getting lost in different publications and works by different authors. you needed to walk quite a while to arrive at the section you needed, putting the old book back into the rack, your eyes scanning the book spines, trying to find a better one.
but between the publications and books, of course, you saw a special pair of indigo eyes and hair on the other side of the shelves. you couldnt think straight, and before you realized it yourself, you headed to the section where your favourite bully was standing.
a book in his hand, eyes buried deep into the book before he looked up with them, seeing your face and rolling his eyes immediately. "how the fuck are you everywhere?" scaramouche asked you.
"i should be asking you this." you answered and leaned against the shelf. "first time that i see you in here. what are you doing?"
scaramouche closed the book and put it back where he got it from. "writing my lab report. last time you told me to do it, didnt you?"
wow. you were surprised that he actually was doing his share in the project. and that he just said a whole sentence without cussing you out. you felt proud of him.
"thank you, i guess." you say, scratching your head, but scaramouche immediately turned back to you and grabbed your arm, pressing you into the shelf with full force.
"if you really feel thankful, maybe think about deleting the picture from two days ago, you fucking bitch." he spat in your face.
oh wow. welcome back, old scaramouche.
a special thought appeared in your head, and you looked at him with a small grin plastered on your lips. he just looked at you confused.
"the fuck is so funny about this?" he spat again, and your grin started growing on your face. "dont feel like it.", you answered, "but i can maybe thank you differently." you moved your leg between his, lifting it to meet his crotch softly.
scaramouche gasped quickly, probably from shock, and he let your hand go. it was an easy opportunity to shove him away from you, now you being the one to press him against the reck of books, caging him in with your hands.
you could easily see the pure flustered shock on his face, eyes wide open and face tinted in red, and you enjoyed it.
"not so bold now, are you?" you asked him, getting closer to his neck and pressing a few light kisses on them. you could feel him inhale in shock, holding his breath in and biting his lip as you attacked his neck with bites and kisses. "we can continue off from where we stopped last time?"
scaramouche felt like he was on fire, body moving on his own once again. he used your thigh to get himself off, getting hard embarrassingly quick. "see, you seem to like it?" you whispered in his ear, but all he could do was bite his lips and trying to stay silent.
yes, the library wasnt full, but it wasnt completely empty either. he didnt want anyones attention on the two of you, so he tried his best to stay silent.
you didnt appreciate this behaviour though, and pinched his ass from behind, a gasp leaving his mouth louder than he intended to.
you let go off him for a second, grabbing his small waist to turn him around, his chest pressing against the books and yours against his back. he looked back at you with wide eyes, visibly shocked. "what are u-" he started his sentence, but your hand on his boner made him lose his train of thoughts.
you opened his pants and slid in with your right hand, playing with the hem of his boxers. "st..stop this, not here.." he mumbled aroused, his pleas not sounding too serious. he didnt wanna stop now, he started to feel incredibly good again. how are you doing that to him?
your hand grabbed his dick, pumping it twice in his pants and scaramouche let his head fall back in his neck, a silent moan leaving his lips. fuck, your hands were cold, but they felt so good on his body.
but how can he believe you would get him off this easily? you giggled silently while watching him enjoy himself before taking your hand back again and kneeling behind him.
he started to get really frustrated with your behaviour and tried to glare back to you, but when he saw you on your knees behind him, face right near his ass, his eyes widened in shock (once again.)
"what are you doing?" he asked you. you didnt answer him though. all you did was pull his pants and boxers down, here, right in the middle of a library between a thousands of books.
the cold air hitting his skin made him shudder, his face turning left and right, trying to check if anyone was close. if anyone would catch you two in here, he'd absolutely go apeshit.
"ever got your asshole licked, scara?" you asked him, and your direct way of asking him made his whole face flush red. "what the fuck are you on again??" he asked, but you didnt answer once again.
you spat in your hand and moved it back to his dick, stroking him a few times to get him more obedient again. his eyes closed in shame and lust as he rutted into your hand, biting down on his hand to stay silent.
you, once again, let go of him, but this time you decided to play with his backside, massaging his ass and getting him more riled up. after a few seconds you used one of your wet fingers to get close to his hole, circling it with spit to get it wet. the moan scaramouche let out in that moment was godlike.
fuck, you wanted to hear more of that. more of his angelic voice. you can't deny that his means and whimpers do something to you, your panties getting a bit wet, heart beating faster.
you couldnt control yourself anymore and grabbed his waist, pulling him close to your face and holding him in place while you devoured him right then and there, tongue circling his hole, moving up and down close to his balls.
scaramouche felt weird, scaramouche felt good. he never felt something like this, his body never felt this good. you didnt even need to hold him down anymore, he was drunk on the pleasure, shoving his cute ass right into your face, chasing the pleasure.
he tried to stabilize himself on the shelf with his hands, head falling back into his neck and tears pooling in his eyes, so close to spilling. usually he was the one pleasuring others, and being on the receiving side this time makes him feel so small and incredibly good. he can't think of a day where he felt like this with another person pleasuring him.
he couldnt help but choke onto air, not a single word coming out of his mouth other than silent whines, tears and mewls of pleasure, so close to cumming.
at some point you switched to your fingers, a spit covered one circling his hole before slowly pushing in, and scaramouche became putty in your hands.
you took your phone from your pocket and opened your camera in one swift motion, but this time you gave the tall man in front of you some time to react.
"say cheese.." you said, and scaramouche turned his head back to you, cheeks red and wet from his tears, lip swollen, tongue out and eyes big. but he didnt care, fuck he really didnt care right now. all he needed was this pleasure that you gave him, so he just looked in the camera with angry eyes which made him look just so much more adorable. just take those stupid pics. he thought.
"y/n?" you heard a familiar voice call out your name.
oh. you completely forgot that you werent alone in the library, albedos voice somewhere near you and scaramouche. you both immediately jumped up, you on your feet and scaramouche crouching, pulling his pants up, both of your eyes wide in shock and fear.
scaramouche knew that if anyone would see you two here it wouldve been easy to guess what you did, so he pulled his pants up rather poorly and jumped away from the other side of the aisle to the other direction from where albedo came from.
fucking hell. he got blue balled once again.
"im here." you said after fixing your clothes, taking any book from the shelves and opening any page, trying to look busy as albedo walked into the aisle. it was so hard for you to contain your smirk after what you just did, but you tried your best. "i was just wondering what took you so long." he asked, fixing his glasses on his nose. "i already have the solution, we're done for today."
"oh god thank you."
"wanna get some food?"
"yes please, i was just getting tired of being here." you said and put the book away, scaramouche a few aisle away from you, listening to your conversation, hiding his face in his hands.
how did you wrap him around your finger once again?
☆☆☆
NYAHAHAHA hello i hope you liked part 2!! i feel like i did a bad job overall but whatever take it as it is <3 im sorry it took so long.. part 3 maybe?? yes or no??
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact drabble#genshin impact scaramouche#genshin x reader#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#scaranation#sub!scaramouche#dom!reader
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hi hi !! ur writing is so cute!
Request here,
can you write something like best friend's popular brother hyunjin who secretly likes reader (she does as well but thinks she has no chance) and then one day he confesses being all shy and shes like WHAT
anything like this u can decide i love whatever you write !<3
Hey beautiful, thank you for requesting, your lovely comment made my day! ( I was having a difficult day) so with lots of love, I will do this for you!
Song recommendation: Popular by the weekend
Popular
Paring:hyunjin!x!reader!
Warning: fluff
Your POV
Mr. popular passes through the corridors, his scent leaving traces behind him, leaning against my locker my eyes follow him and walk all the way outside, his smile flashing to his friend talking about something only them will know.
"Hello? Are you listening to me?" my best friend catches my attention from him "Mhm? Yeah I am" My eyes draw to her now
"so are you gonna go?" she asked seriously "Where?" I asked confused
"I JUST TOLD YOU" Her frustration lands on me "Sorry I didn't pay attention" I truthfully say "To my house" She sighs "My stupid brother is going to bring Ashley over to the house and you know she annoys my ass like I can't stand watching her being so stupid with my brother like she is all over him and-" I cut her off before she explodes
"Hey, calm down girl it's ok, I will be there for you" I calm her down "Thanks, but you know... it's not because I'm jealous of my brother is just that she is such a pick me and every fucking girl is gushing over him and it's just so annoying" I understand her, I wouldn't like seeing my brother with some other girl in my house about every day
"do you know if they are dating?" my curious heart asks feeling a ting of jealousy "I don't know, I hope not"
We get to class and sit down, I look over at Hyunjin who is sitting in front of me, oh my poor little heart, when will you stop loving him?
4:40 pm
Yeji and I get ready to head to her house, we walk outside the school's door and feel the nice weather hitting our faces "Ain't it lovely Yeji" I smile loving this weather and wishing it would be like this everyday
"the weather is nice" she smiles and closes her sweater, "how about we watch the new movie that just came out 2 weeks ago?" she asks me "What movie?" I ask curiously "Well the tale of the nine-tailed fox" She answered my question "Oh, the one where Lee Dong-wook appears?" she nods as we get excited about thirsting over a 40-year-old man.
We get to her house open the door and leave my stuff in a chair "Let me get the popcorn ready" I say heading to the kitchen "ok girl ima put your stuff in my room and get everything ready" she shouts from the door already hearing her steps as she walks through the stairs
"hey y/n" Hyunjin smiles at me while making something to eat for himself "Hey Hyunjin" my heart drops as I didn't see him at first
It's normal for me to be at their house so he is accustomed to seeing me around here, we have known each other since I was 5 and he was 6, Yeji and I knew each other from kindergarten and we always used to play with her brother in my house or her house, so we become friends a long time ago, but I feel like it all changed since we entered high school since I was 15 we don't talk as much as before, just small talks, no more movie nights or baking time with him like we sorta got uncomfortable with each other, he also became Mr, popular at school so I believe he feels better than us now. Now I'm 17 and he is 18 and yeah we are in the same grade because his dumbass failed chemistry in 10th grade, obviously, he was so busy fucking his ex-girlfriend and doing her work for her than concentrating on himself that he was swept away 1 whole year because of it.
"How are you doing?" he asked me smiling at me and looking back down at his sandwich "I'm doing good and you?" I ask looking the popcorn to put it in the microwave. "I've been good, what are you guys doing today?" he asked me to make another of our famous small talks "We are going to watch a movie and maybe I'm staying over" I smiled and continued doing my work. "nice, lucky you, I have to do a project for history fro next week" "ah yeah the ones about the empires?" I ask "Yeah, I got put in with Ashley" he whispers and rolls his eyes at me showing his annoyance, and I laugh silently "It would've been better if I got chosen to be with you, you are pretty smart and organized, and we known each other for most of our life" he continues to finish his sandwich. "yeah right? I got chosen with Lia, so it was not bad at all, just her brother is a bit creepy" I say making a weird face remembering her brother and how immature he acts.
"oh yeah Daniel is awful" I nodded and put the popcorn in the microwave not forgetting what he said about me my tummy filled with butterflies, but again I reminded myself I couldn't let these feelings get the best of me, he barely talks to me and yeji would be so mad at me if I ever get to date him.
"But if you ever need me to him in his place please tell me and I will do it with pleasure" he smiles grabs his plate and rubs my head while passing by to the living room.
my cheeks got all red by his touch, I placed my hands over them to soothe them down the popcorn finishes and I get out of the kitchen
"oh Hyuinjin you so funny" I hear a girl exaggerating her laugh, ofc she is here, I feel a bit down and go to Yeji's room.
"everything is ready" I get to her bed and put the bowl in the middle of both of us she starts the movie and we are already melting by seeing Dong Wooks face.
something in me doesn't let me concentrate on the movie and a tinge of jealousy gets to me, it should've been me who was with Hyun-jin right now, not Ashley.
7:24pm
"May I join" Someone opens the door and looks at Yeji with pleading eyes "No go fuck yourself" She stretches and lays down in another position, so I move aside and pat the side of my bed to let Hyunjin join us "See she's nice, unlike you?" he says getting on the bed sticking his tongue out at her "no y/n why did you let him in!" she groans while saying it getting annoyed and moving to the side of the bed to give me more space, he lays on his stomach and hugs a small pillow and gets near me, his head touching my arm of how close he is to me.
Butterflies run through my stomach as I try to control my breathing so I do not blush.
15min later
"He's not that even good looking," He remarks making both of our heads look at him "Shut up you dickhead, he is the most handsome guy to ever exist" She throws a pillow at him, but he throws it back, sitting up and getting comfortable back in the sheets, now sitting like I've been doing this whole time, but our arms connect he looks down on me and smiles, I smile back and quickly look back at the movie, now I do feel my cheeks blush
"did you see how hot Lee Yeon's brother is?" yeji asked me "Yes Rang has that type of bad boy vibe right? but he is so gentle on the inside like he is so cute" I say as we comment on the series. But I feel Hyuinjins head on my shoulder hugging my arm trying to get comfortable on the bed, Yeji gives her back to me and I see her sleepy eyes trying to fight the urge to fall asleep, I pat her head gently making sure she gets some rest but I feel Hyun-jin caressing my arm with his thumb up and down. I feel his breath get more relaxed but I tense up feeling nervous about him.
I try to ignore it and continue watching the movie "Yeji look at the puppy" I pout looking at how cute he is "yeji?" I called her again but I heard no response from her "Did she fall asleep already?" he asked me
"mhm, I think she did" I try to shake her but she does not react, hating that she left me alone with her brother again.
"mmh ok, I'm going for something to eat wanna come?" I nod and get out of bed with him turning the TV and lights off for yeji to sleep as we walk out to the kitchen.
"what are you craving?" he asks me "What about some ramyeon?"
"Sure that sounds good" he started to boil the water while I took the packets out
"so... how did the project go? I asked curiously about the 2 of them
"it was... ok I guess, I kinda ended up doing it all by myself and she was very annoying btw," he said a bit disappointed.
"well I'm sorry to hear that," I said relieved to hear that it didn't go well between them, he got next to me to grab the cups of noodles, and our hands brushed each other, our eyes met and our bodies froze
He pecked my lips and stared into my eyes waiting for my reaction, my eyes widened and my mouth gaped looking at him in shock, but I didn't say anything staying in the same position.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't done that without asking you, I-I thought t-that maybe you wanted i-it"he stutters nervously looking everywhere but my eyes.
"W-why did you kiss me?" I asked in shock, his face in fear "I'm sorry y/n I couldn't stop myself I don't know what came over me, I-Ii just really like y-you and-"
"You WHAT?!"
"I like you y/n, I have since we were young" I stare at him in pure shock
"wait so wait what? so you like me? And you tell me until now?"
"what do you mean until now? I was scared you were going to reject me"
"I would never reject you Hyunjin, I've liked you since I was like 8," I said a bit angry that this didn't happen before
"YOU LIKE ME?!?!" he raises his voice in shock and joy
"yeah I do" I get a bit shy saying it out loud
he cups my cheeks and kisses me delicately his lips feeling soft, tasting him on my lips is kind of my new obsession.
when we separate ourselves in our eyes we see our future we just started.
and that is how I started to date Mr popular.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
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#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#skz#skz fluff#skz imagines#skz x reader#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin comfort#hyunjin cute
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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start
Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.
Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.
Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing.
Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Chapter warning has drinking, a drunk and all over the place Buggy, and Sunny just quietly being "what the fuck". Also it's Buggy's birthday.
A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I actually have started rewriting it after chapter 5 because I realized I wanted to change some things up.
Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.
TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix
Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue
Chapter 6
“I think she’s heartbroken.” Benji said as he and Miss Pins watched you stumble around the shop, looking through stacks of fabric and spools of thread looking for your tailor’s chalk that was tucked up in behind your ear. You had been acting… odd since you told Buggy to leave the shop three weeks ago. You managed to sew a customer’s order to your lap, sewed cuffs inside out on another one, and just now you spent the last hour looking for the blue piece of tailor’s chalk that you tucked behind your ear.
“Oh?” Miss Pins replied, head resting in her hand as she watched you look through the same stack of fabric again. “You’re a kid, how do you know about heartbreak?”
“I was in love with a girl and she broke my heart.” Benji told her as you finally found the chalk and set it on the table. “We were 12. She told me she wanted someone nicer, which was dumb. I am nice. I just voice my opinions.”
“Well, don’t get hung up on that young romance. Someone else will come around.” The old woman said as you started looking for your scissors next. They were in a cup in front of you along with other tools. “This is really sad. Did she like the idiot that much?”
“I think so.” Benji frowned. “I didn’t like him.”
“Neither did I.” Miss Pins sighed. “So of course Sunny would.”
“Why did she like him?” Benji asked. Miss Pins shrugged.
“She’s always been kind, ever since she showed up here all those years ago.” Your boss replied. “No matter who someone was or how awful they were, she would just be nice to them.”
You finally found the scissors and held them up triumphantly before pausing and staring down at your work. It took you so long to find the tailor’s chalk that you forgot why you needed it and the scissors. You were distracted, half expecting Buggy to come bursting into the shop any moment now with some silly little thing to fix on his jacket, but you were quite firm when you told him to leave that one day, so he must have taken it to heart. You weren’t going to see him again.
Was it fair you got upset because he couldn’t remember your name? But at the same time, the way he reacted was more hurtful. Something stupid like your name. It repeated in your head nonstop and you wished it wouldn’t. He was just so mean about it. Sure, he had been rude and a bit of an ass since you met him, but it was never mean.
You remembered what you were working on. A customer wanted his jacket to have reinforced stitches in the sleeves but more room in the shoulders to allow him better movement when he used his sword. He had come into the shop and while you even thought he was handsome, you didn’t hide your disappointment that it wasn’t Buggy. Miss Pins gave the job to you and the man paid ahead of time, so you immediately started working.
Maybe Buggy would show back up.
~
You had been fast asleep until you were woken up by someone yelling outside the shop. You heard your boss shouting from her bedroom window at whoever it was, but you got up to see what was going on. You heard her shout Dammit Buggy! So you headed downstairs to the shop and opened the door.
Sure enough, Buggy was standing there, glaring upwards at Miss Pins’ window. He swayed where he stood, a bottle clutched in his hand before he raised it up.
“You’re loud too, Miss Pins!” He shot back before shrieking and jumping out of the way. Miss Pins had dumped a cup of water on him. “Hey!”
“Buggy?” You stepped out of the shop and closed the door behind you. His eyes lit up when he saw you and he had a big smile on his face. His face was flushed and he looked so happy to see you.
“Su-Sunny! You’re still here!” He slurred, grinning as he dropped the bottle and threw his arms around you, catching you off guard. “I thought maybe… maybe you left and never wanted to see me again!”
Oh, this was a happy and drunk Buggy. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as well coming off of his clothes. You wondered how much he had already. It was best to send him on his way, to not get involved, but you worried what sort of trouble he would get into if you left him alone, so you called up to your boss’s window that you’d be back later, you wanted to make sure he got back to his ship safely. You picked up the bottle and put your arm around his waist, keeping a firm hold on him to keep him from wandering off.
“‘S my birrrrthday!” He announced as he slung an arm over your shoulder, laughing loudly as you made your way down the road and toward the docks. “I’m… I’m two months… After you. I’m younger.”
“You definitely are.” You mused as you tightened your arm around him. He looked at you with a smirk.
“You’re touching me.” He lifted his arm to have another drink and realized he didn’t have his bottle. “Where-”
“I have it, Buggy.” You told him, holding it up to show him. “No more, okay?”
He looked grumpy until his hand popped off and grabbed it from you, bringing it back to himself. Smirking triumphantly, he raised the bottle to his lips and continued drinking. You weren’t opposed to drinking at all, but you also didn’t want to be around a drunk pirate right now. You wanted to be home and sleeping.
“Which one is your ship?” You asked when you came to the docks. He lowered the bottle and frowned as he looked at them before pointing to one furthest to the right. You hoped he was right as you walked with him to the ship, still keeping a hold on him. Once you dropped him off you’d head back home, but he turned to you with bright and excited eyes.
“Have a drink with me!” He pleaded. “It’s… it’s my birthday.”
“I know it’s your birthday, you told me.” You reminded him. “And I don’t want a drink, Buggy. I need to get home.”
“Please?” He asked as he stopped in his tracks. You kept your arm around him and looked over at him. The happy and bouncy Buggy was gone, replaced with someone different. He looked unsure of himself right then as he asked you, turning his gaze to his feet. You were going to regret this but you sighed and nodded.
“One drink.” You told him, and before you knew it, he was smiling again and taking hold of your hand, leading you up to his ship with his chest puffed out proudly, looking quite happy once more. You followed after him, shaking your head as he led you to what you figured was the captain’s quarters. One drink, that was it, then you’d head home.
He finally finished the bottle and tossed it aside before stumbling over to a cabinet for more. You took a seat on his bed, watching him as he rummaged around before pulling out two glasses and a bottle. He grinned at you, wagging his eyebrows as he brought you a glass and opened the bottle, but you took it from him.
“The birthday boy shouldn’t be pouring his own drink.” You told him as he plopped down beside you. You didn’t trust him to not spill it everywhere so you poured him a glass before your own, setting the bottle out of his immediate reach (which was silly because he could still grab it with his Devil Fruit powers). “Cheers, Buggy.”
He smiled brightly and let his head rest on your shoulder as he gripped his glass tightly. “You’re nice.”
“I’ve been told that.” You chuckled. “Thanks.”
“No, no, no, you’re so nice.” He continued gushing. “And… y’know, I’m gonna marry you. You’re so nice, Sunny, and I’m not married, y’know, so we should get married.”
You choked on your drink and set the glass aside, coughing a bit before clearing your throat. Oh, he was so drunk. You reached up to pat his cheek gently. “You’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow, so don’t propose marriage to me yet.”
He tossed his drink back before giving you his glass. You put it beside yours, not wanting to fill it back up. The moment your hand was free he took it in his own, entwining his fingers with yours as he continued his drunken rambles.
“We’ll get married, because you’re so nice to me, and I’ll be so happy.” He continued as he turned to look up at you. “I want to be happy with you, Sunny.”
“Buggy, I want you to be happy too.” You told him. “I don’t know if marrying someone will make you happy, however.”
“Is it because I was an asshole on your birthday? Is… is that why you won’t marry me?” Buggy asked with a frown. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I was mean. I was an asshole. I like you a lot and got scared ‘cause I couldn’t remember your name, and you have a nice name, and I didn’t get you a present.” He suddenly dropped your hand and stood up, marching back over to his cabinet. “Wait, I wanna sh-show you somethin’!”
Oh, Drunk Buggy was just a bit everywhere. Happy, excited, emotional, and apologetic. It was kind of fun to see in a way. He rummaged through the cabinet before hurrying back over to you, tripping over his own feet before falling onto his bed beside you. He held up something and you took it. They were photographs of two young boys, one with a straw hat and red hair, and the other had to be Buggy going by the bright red nose and scowl.
“That’s me,” He pointed to himself in the photo. “Wasn’t sure if you knew. And that’s Shanks. We… we were best friends on a ship together and then we weren’t.” He frowned. “Haven’t been for a few years.” He sat up on the bed and leaned into you again. “You’re really nice.”
“Thank you for apologizing for my birthday, Buggy.” You told him as you looked through the photos. There weren't many, and they were old, showing their age in their wrinkles and fading color. Buggy certainly was a cute little kid. “I’m sorry I was rude to you.”
He straightened up and put both of his hands on your cheeks, turning your head so you faced him. He glared at you and you wondered what was about to happen, but his gaze suddenly softened and he looked down at his lap, his hands still on your cheeks. “Don’t you ever apologize because you’re perfect and have done nothing wrong ever.”
You put both of your hands on his and moved them off your face. “Buggy, I think you need to go to bed.”
He turned red suddenly and pulled away from you, looking down at his lap as you got to your feet and removed his hat, setting it down on a nearby trunk. You noticed he went quiet but decided not to say anything as you looked for some kind of sleep clothes for him, or did he just sleep in his everyday clothes? When you looked back over at him he was struggling to remove his shirt. You sighed and went to help him get free of it. When you saw his face again, he looked away once more.
“What’s wrong?” You asked as you knelt in front of him to help take his boots off. You didn’t trust him to do it himself, afraid he’d topple over and hit his head.
“I never… with… with anyone before.” He mumbled as he gestured between the two of you. For a solid minute you stared at him as you tried to process what he was thinking, and when it hit you, your face burned as you set his boots aside. “So um…”
“Neither have I, Buggy, but that’s not what I said.” You told him firmly. “I told you it’s time for bed. For you, not me. You need to get some sleep.”
“Canyoustaythenight?” He blurted out. “Please? I don’t… want to be alone.”
You stared at him for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around this. You didn’t intend for any of this to happen. You were just going to bring him home before going back to your place to crawl into your bed, but he managed to get you to stay for a drink (that you didn’t finish) and now he wanted you to spend the night.
He was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his world right then. It was a little hard to say no, but you did want to make sure he would be okay, so you removed your own shoes before putting your hands on your hips. “Where are your pajamas?”
He shrugged as he fell back on his bed, stretching out across it. His entire body separated for a moment before snapping back together and honestly, it was momentarily horrifying to see it all happen at once. You needed him to explain this but not when he was drunk. You sighed and nudged him to get under the blankets, which he did, watching you once more with bright, excited eyes as you got into bed beside him. Almost immediately he wrapped himself around you, resting his head against your chest as he closed his eyes and sighed happily.
“So nice, so soft, warm.” He mumbled quietly. You took the chance to remove his bandana, pleasantly surprised to see how long his hair was. Why did he keep it all hidden? You ran your fingers through it as he made himself comfortable against you. “I don’t wanna be away from you again, please, ‘msorry.”
“Get some sleep, Buggy.” You told him as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay? No more talking.”
“Imma marry you.” He sighed. You rolled your eyes and wondered what you needed to expect the next morning.
#buggy the clown#buggy the clown x reader#buggy x reader#buggy x you#buggy the clown x you#opla buggy the clown#opla buggy the clown x reader#opla buggy x reader#opla buggy the clown x you#opla buggy x you#opla buggy the clown x oc#opla buggy x oc#buggy the clown x oc#buggy x oc#sunny x buggy#one piece#one piece oc#one piece fanfiction
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Could I request general nsfw hcs for the Ikemen Prince boys pls?
(A/N): Hellooo! Yeah, of course you can - hope you enjoy!
IkePri NSFW Headcanons x GN! Reader - Part 1
Warnings: Smut | minors DNI, i put a lil crack in here too dw
Character: Gilbert, Silvio, Keith, Sariel, Rio, Clavis, Notko, Ikemen Prince
Word count: 1.014
Gilbert von Obsidian
i will sit here forever and say: this man is not a top
no, no dont say it - no he isnt
will act like he'll top you only to fucking bend at the slightest bit of pleasure
literally just touch his chest in a slightly sensual way and watch the magic happen
hes absolutely whipped for you so it doesnt take long for him to get hard
also happens at really unfortunate times
,,hello rhodolite, are you sti- ...oh''
i think over half of the fandom hcs him as German
so, because i'm German too, i can FEEL the German words sipping out during sex
just cute little grunts and a little ''verdammt...'' in between
yeah hes the scary man that threats the entire kingdom but in bed - hes the actual little rabbit
i will die on that hill btw
i think he likes aftercare but doesnt want to admit it
just wordlessly cuddle him afterwards and let him be the big spoon and everythings fine <3
Silvio Ricci
cocky bitchass
hes a tease and he knows it
is a big edging fan
like to bring you close enough to almost feel the sweet release - only to stop and ask you whats wrong
WHAT DO YOU THINK; SIR ASSHOLE
he toys with you, yeah but he can be sweet to
CAN be
when you've been extraordinary good that week, he'll consider letting you cum a little sooner than usual
with his cock buried deep inside you and his low voice right next to your ear
i think hes not big with the praise but slips in a little ,,you're doing so fucking good...'' here and there does the trick
wants to have total control, so i think he likes bondage quite a bit
you once ripped the rope in two and this mans ego was up in the sky - he made you do that after all
a dog on the streets and a... even wilder dog in the sheets
Keith Howell
okay so, this ones a little bit different
we have two choices here
cute, shy bottom keith and uh, fucked up top keith
means: mans def a switch
shy keith is really careful not to hurt you
you've got the beeeeeest of both worlds
he is BIG and he has a lot of strength
so when you're on top of him and he grips your thighs - mans leaving marks that wont leave for days
hes just so lost in the pleasure, hes a brabbling mess
is a little too shy to moan loud but after some time hes getting VOCAL
now, alter! keith is completely different
i think hes not into bondage, he'll just hold you down himself
pressed into the matress while fucking you like you're nothing but a toy
he doesnt fucking care if you make too much noise
scream and let everyone know you're his and his only
oh yeah, hes a lil bit possessive. just a lil bit.
Sariel Noir
has a whip and is not afraid to use it
i feel like hes less in for the sex and more for the foreplay
also big on bondage
he ties you up nice and pretty and just watches
hes slowly letting his whip explore your body - not hurting you but also not letting you feel too much pleasure
oh no, this is for him
he loves to watch you struggle agains the ropes or shudder because of his cold whip
he isnt too mean of course
youre not leaving until he fucked you
doesnt bother to untie you, but that doesnt bother you either, right?
hes slow but precise, hitting all the right spots
i swear he could go all night, he just has it in him
hes dealing with eight princes daily, his stamina is from another world
Rio Ortiz
service top, service top, service top
hes just like a dog fr
he'd do anything for your pleasure
against the wall? yes. in the middle of the room? no problem. a quicky behind a fricking pillar? whatever you want.
100% has your name on his dog collar
will eat you out while you pull on his leash
100% knows what to do based on how strong you pull
feels accomplished when you moan his name while cumming
just moan his name in general
hes big on aftercare
whenever its cuddling or taking a bath together, he'd do everything
im so sure that he would slip out of bed (or.. from behind a pillar lmao) to get you some tee or cake or whatever you need
you just need to snap your fingers and he turns into an obedient little dog who would do anything to please you
Clavis Lelouch
this one was a bit hard, tbh
i think hes the kind of guy that would finger you a lot
but just fingering you in bed would be boring, right?
right, thats why sexy time with him is almost always when you're not alone
on a banquet? he sure as hell is going to slip his hand inside your clothes
hey, hes a leg guy! surely the guests will understand that he wants to rest his hand on you thigh!
because thats what they think hes doing
100% exhibitionist
we all know how much he loves showing off his lover
would also fuck you on his balcony at night
theres no chance someone would see you two, but he doesnt tell you
loves to see your face go from ,,fuck, they could see us!'' to ,,fuck it if they see us.''
Nokto Klein
royal whore #1
definetly a top, and a fucking sly one at that
memorized the entire kamasutra
sex with him is never getting old, this man has new position every time you two sleep with each other
his sex drive is h i g h
has no shame either, whenever hes horny he just goes to fetch you
youre cooking? well, now youre not anymore
acts like he would fuck you in public but really doesnt want to
you body getting railed is his sight alone and no one elses
it a fucking tease
much like Silvio, it takes some time before he lets you cum
loves the faces you make and sometimes teases you with them
would 100% counter anything with ,,sure, but last night you didn't seem to mind that much~''
even in public
someone rip out this mans (talented) tongue please
#cybird ikemen#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#nokto klein#clavis lelouch#rio ortiz#silvio ricci#sariel noir#keith howell#gilbert von obsidian#ikepri headcanons#ikemen x reader#gn! reader
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Tending Part 3!!
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader
Word Count: 11.4K
Preview: What happened between Jake and Mariella? What’s happening to you?
A/N: Y’all wanted the angst, so I present to you ANGST... Please don’t be mad at me.
MINORS DNI
MENTIONS OF/ TW: Oh boy get ready… dirty talk, name-calling, unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this!), explicit sexual content, impact play, hate fucking (oops), dom/sub, mature themes, brief mentions of body dysmorphia, language, choking, safe words, public activities… fluff (hehe)… But as always, it's filthy (IMO). Sorry if I missed anything!
Tending Part 1!
Tending Part 2!
It’s been almost a week since you’ve spoken to Jake.
Who knew so much could happen in a short amount of time? Dreams came true, and in one swift kick were knocked down. Your life was starting to feel like a movie. Like a meet cute, romantic, and sexy movie. But now, you were just becoming a sad Lifetime movie that your grandma would watch.
You were the sad woman alone in her apartment whose dream boy let her down. It felt pathetic to be this cliche, to be this hurt by a man who didn’t even seem to feel the same way. Cue the sad montage of memories, and bring on the melancholy music; because this scene was never-ending.
Saturday night ended in a catastrophic way. You finally had all the control and you still let it- well him, go. The feelings have been burning deep inside you. Your heart feels heavy thinking about it all; how you reacted, how he reacted.
“Jake…” You coo, “What was going on with you and Mariella?”
He pulls his head away from your hand and looks at you with a disgusted expression.
“Nothing.” He replies, still in his dominant form. “You have to get over this.”
Was there anything that could’ve changed the outcome? Yes.
The heat of the moment boiled over you and you exploded. You were in no place to be jealous; he wasn’t yours to claim. Still, the anger sat inside you, brewing, accumulating. There was no letting go of that. It was hard to feel like there wasn’t more going on between you two. He cared for you, he protected you in ways you hadn’t seen before. He made you feel like you were actually important to him in some way.
You’ve run through the scenario countless times, thinking of what would have been better, how you could’ve cut deeper, how you could have forgiven. You’ve learned from your past. Learning that secrets might have been hidden from you, not only from Jake but from Mariella, was painful. You weren’t sure whether to believe what he was saying. There was no emotion, only facts. You felt crazy snapping at him as he remained there perfectly calm.
The worst part of it all was that he didn’t even seem sorry about it.
You try your best to remain cool, calm, and unknowing in front of him, “Hi Jake,”
He smiles at you. He holds his gaze for a moment trying to read you, but like every typical man, only sees the surface. He pats your head one last time and walks off to clock in. Fuck. Why is he choosing today of all days to actually be soft with you? He’s never been this comfortable in your presence, giving you pets, actually excited for a shift. You want so badly to feel normal for this moment; to be thankful that he’s trying. But every nice gesture feels like it's souring.
You move your hair back to its rightful place and walk down to the new set of customers that just arrived.
“Hey, what can I get for you?” You ask.
The couple doesn’t know, but inform you that they’ll call you over when they’re ready. You move on to the next gentleman, who before you can even ask, informs you that he’ll take the cheapest beer we have. How charming!
You walk over to the tap and begin to pour him a glass. Jake is heading towards you and you try to be in deep focus on your pour. He turns parallel to you, sliding the front of his jeans over your ass; scooching past you to exit the bar. Purposefully. Not an accident. On purpose in an attempt to mark his territory here.
He’s stuck his flag on the moon! He’s painting JAKE in big red letters across my ass. He’s trying to remind me that I belong to his cock. You want to belong to him. The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering for him, pleading for you to get over this jealousy and take him right here on the dank bar floor. You think back to the times this exact situation has happened before; maybe those other times weren’t accidental rubs. You want him amidst all your feelings, you want him to take you into his hands and fuck the anger out of you. Really prove to you that you're his and he's yours… But he wouldn’t.
Twenty minutes ago this sentiment would have been great. But now? You feel nauseous. Desperately waiting for a clue of what happened in Mariella’s house. He probably would touch her the same as you, taking control of her body… Commanding her to his will. Touching her in all her favorite spots, which of course would probably be the same as yours. It would be easy for him to do the same things, just interchanging the women.
You bring the snippy gentleman his beer and take his credit card from the counter. Hardly looking at him. Men. Gross.
What really could have happened last night? Why did Jake go to Mariella’s house? It had to be for some sinister reason. The smidge of doubt you had saved for him was starting to shrink the longer you waited for the truth.
Mariella was a beautiful girl. She had this amazing long black hair that she would always style in cute ways for her shifts. Her face was soft, but she had these gorgeous piercing blue eyes. She also had the body of a fucking model. Not those skinny tiny runway models, but those Instagram models with hourglass figures. The ones who make you feel jealous that your ass isn’t that round, or that your body didn’t fit that way into a dress. You always felt a little intimidated by her beauty, surprised that she would want to work in a bar and not run off to Paris Fashion Week.
After one night of seeing her tips though, you understood exactly why she stayed at this job. Everyone loved her. She barely had to show up for work to make crazy amounts of money. When you both would work Saturday nights before Jake came along, you were thankful that you split tips. She was beautiful, had a bubbly personality, and always convinced everyone that they should have just one. more. round.
The insecurities are building inside of you as you compare yourself to her. You try to shake the feeling. You still have no idea what happened, you remind yourself. Dwelling on each negative thought that sat in your head wasn’t fair to Jake. You were only allowing the devil’s advocate to speak, instead of remembering that there are two sides to this story and you’ve only heard one.
You were on a bender of sorts. The mania of the past week left you so high and now you were really feeling the low. Your bed had become a nest of random objects: chip bags, the book you tried to read, the clothes from Saturday night you still refused to move since you took them off, and your childhood stuffed animal you had pulled from your closet to comfort you. You were neglecting your body, neglecting your mind.
Your room had an aura of depression. You didn’t think this collapse would hurt you so badly, but you felt so low. All that build-up and anticipation for Jake was lost by a dumb mistake. Or was it a mistake? You still didn’t know. Was it easier to preserve your feelings for him rather than trust him? Was it easier to end now instead of waiting months to find more secrets? Were you wrong to be so distrusting? These thoughts plagued you, shocked you… Hit you like lightning; thunder shaking everything you wanted around you.
You only cried on Saturday night after it was over. The whole ride home you were struggling to see through the tears. Your breath was heavy, staggering, trying to stay alive. Panic was surging through you. Anger, fear, and sadness were attacking you from all angles. You felt even worse knowing you had no right to feel this way about a man who didn’t belong to you. He could have done whatever he wanted and you should have let him. But the way he touched you, the way he made you feel special… It made you feel like you had a fair fight.
You even cried the whole way into your apartment, to your bed, and really, until you fell asleep from the exhaustion. You had been dreaming about building something with Jake, and you made a very serious decision to cut that dream short. You finally let yourself take control over him, and cut the chase off for both of you. The heat of the moment, the insecurity, the jealousy, exploded in a fiery argument. You felt played, you felt angry, you felt… misled.
You woke up Sunday morning feeling empty. Your heart raced waiting to see if Jake would text you, would say something about how sorry he felt, or that he didn’t mean to hurt you. You were rotting in bed, smothered in blankets and grime. You feel empty. Your brain cycles over everything. You wish it was Friday night again and he was here, showing you brief moments of weakness…
Stroking his hair as he smiles at you. Caressing your thigh as a means to say thank you. Kissing you softly, holding you close. Finally giving you the form of aftercare he showed you Wednesday night. Staying the night with you. Playing with your hair to wake you up…
But that didn’t happen. And it wouldn’t now.
A message never came on Sunday, so you sat and rotted in bed.
A message never came on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday…
And nothing today.
Around nine, people started showing up to really drink. Each seat at the bar was full, and the tables were even starting to fill up too. The servers had tons of orders; large party groups treating themselves to more drinks than they should. Jake and you were jumping around the bar, trying to clear the orders. He brushed up on you a few more times, but you didn’t even have time to process or be angry at it with the amount of people that needed their precious alcohol. It's surprising to see how frustrated people get when they have to wait longer than five seconds for a drink to appear in their hands.
When you finally had a moment, you stepped off to the corner of the bar to make yourself your own drink. You couldn’t do this completely sober. You filled the glass with whiskey and put some cola in it, as secretly as you could. This was dangerous considering Chris would probably be checking your favorite whiskey during inventory, but you needed it. You took a few big sips, the dark liquor burning through the bubbles. The invigorating fire burns down your throat, forming a pit in your stomach.
You were savoring this moment, drinking tonight was a means of self-care. You knew to be careful, not take too much at once, not to take too much at all. You just wanted a distraction, but it wasn’t really helping. You just wanted to convince yourself that numbing the feelings was better than feeling them all. You couldn’t numb everything though.
Seeing him jump around you in this new energy… It was hard to watch. Jake always looked so sexy behind the bar. He wore these tight dark wash jeans, black vans, and a black button-up that really showed off his tan. It made you mad how much you wanted him, how much you were thinking about your nights together. Thinking about how he corrected your behavior the first time you were petty with him. You felt better in his presence. Even though he never claimed any wrongdoing, you felt like his touch was his way of apologizing.
You need to stay focused at the bar, but it was proving harder and harder to do. Every time you saw him, you thought of what Mariella said. You were creating scenarios in your head, convincing yourself that you weren’t the only one Jake was seducing.
Why else would he go to Mariella’s? Why else would she be so upset? Wait, why was she upset about it?
Maybe she had the same situation as him and you, and she was the lucky one who found out about the other woman.
Is she why Jake wanted to take it slow? Is she the reason why he didn’t stay over that first night?
She wouldn’t even look at him the night after he played, well actually, she wouldn’t look at either of us. She only brought us drinks, she wouldn’t talk or engage with us. She too was trying to focus on something other than him that night. Did she know he was playing that night? Is that why she agreed to cover his shift? Did he ask her to cover for him so that she could be the one there to support him from the sidelines?
Why didn’t she tell you if anything was going on? After your first shift with Jake, you ran to her to tell her how sexy you thought he was. You even laughed about it together! She said you were crazy to go after a coworker, and that things would get messy. Was she trying to warn you then?
When you came into the bar Wednesday night she wasn’t necessarily happy to see you there either. You specifically asked for a drink that wouldn’t get either of you in trouble, but somehow you did end up in trouble the next day. Did she tell Chris that you were asking for free drinks? How else would he know? We’re usually pretty good at hiding it or we always cover for each other. Was she upset at what happened that night? Knowing Jake had to drive you home?...
Could she sense something happened?
These thoughts are engrossing you. Breaking you down bit by bit. A lump starts forming in your throat. Your hands are getting clammy and you can feel the warmth taking you over. Picturing a teakettle, slowly starting to whistle and shake with the fire. Every time you turn down the stove, you pump it back up to high, screaming with the heat. You know you want to cry, but standing in the middle of a bar crying wouldn’t exactly solve anything.
You swallow hard. Forcing the tears to pull back from your eyes. There would be no crying now. There’s a bar full of people and you have your job to focus on. You’re making it impossible for yourself by lingering on every little thought that pops through your mind. Each passing by like a highway billboard, advertising your mistrust and envy.
You rush back over to your drink and chug as much as you can. Your judgment is severely clouded, not from the liquor, but from the emotions. You feel the tension growing in you, tearing you apart limb by limb, nerve by nerve.
You swear that if you were lifted out of this bed, there would be a you-sized indent in the mattress from how you’ve sat there for so long. The bed became a hiding hole. You were sitting at the bottom in the dirt, trying to climb and find any way out. You put yourself in this hole to try and protect your feelings further, but it just made you feel worse. He was standing at the top of this hole, waving down to you; telling you to get out.
You couldn’t trust Jake and that made you heartbroken.
11:30 hits and you’d swear this bar became a fucking nightclub. College season is both the worst and the best time for Fleets. We have too much business coming in.
Jake and you were handling it the best you could. You started pre-preparing the beer buckets; throwing 5 bottles in the tubs, and filling them with ice to pass along when they were ordered. Jake was taking his usual commanding role, telling people off, passing orders off to you, and-
“Back the fuck up!” Jake yells at the man reaching over the counter to touch your ass. You turn to look at the guy. He is quite literally standing over the bar, reaching his hand out, his finger inches from your ass. He’s stuck in a moment of shock, arm extended, completely caught. “Chris!”
Chris is occupied at the table of regulars, but still, fortunately, hears Jake yell. Chris runs over from the table and removes the gentleman from his overhang on the counter. He yanks him off the bar stool, and escorts him not so gently out of the bar, with his friends in tow. The man is screaming at you, at Chris, and at Jake.
“Fuck you! Fucking prude! Good thing your boyfriend’s there to save you!” His voice echoes into the night as Chris pushes him past the doors.
You break your pause and continue making the vodka sodas in front of you. Trying your best to ignore what the man just said. Working in a bar like this means things like that will happen. It's not the first time someone has been caught trying to grab you, and you’re trying not to let it bother you. You didn’t want to feel protected by your ‘boyfriend’, because he wasn’t your boyfriend; you were alone.
Jake walks up behind you, resting his arm on your hip, checking on you.
“I’m fine,” You bark. Trying to prove you’re not a damsel in distress.
“Hey,” Jake nudges at you to turn to him, and you look back, scowling, “You sure?”
You close your eyes and breathe for a moment. You feel the heat building, growing, trying to come out of you. Your whole body is sweating, clamming up at the overwhelmed state you’re in. Trying to hold back your confusion, trying to hold back your anger at the man, trying to hold back the praise you desperately want to give to Jake. You wipe your hands on the front of your shirt and ball your fists up beside you. “Yes, Jake. I’m fine. He didn’t actually touch me.”
He looks at you with a sad gaze… Maybe he can see below the surface. He rubs your side briefly and gives you a firm squeeze before heading back over to the customers. You exhale slowly, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have to be so protective over you when you were so clearly trying not to be happy with him right now? He clearly wants something; wants you to feel trusted by him. You want to trust him, but it felt so hard to in this moment.
If he didn’t tell you he was going to Mariella’s, then it obviously was something he didn’t want you to know about. He clearly was being secretive, hiding. You also realize, he probably knows that you know something. How could he not? If Mariella had that big of a reaction with you, then she probably had that big of a reaction with Jake. So here he was, being all calm, cool, and collected, meanwhile knowing that you know what he didn’t want you to know!
You’re spiraling.
You reach over and finish the rest of your cocktails. You grab the three vodka sodas in front of you and balance them between your fingers, gingerly carrying them over to the blonde party girls in the corner.
“About time!” One of them snickers.
“Next time, you can make them,” You snap back. The shocked look on their faces was priceless. That line would probably get you in trouble if anyone heard, but these girls are already too plastered to even form full cohesive sentences. “Also girls, the other bartender and I are a little concerned. We’re going to bring you some water and cut you off for now. Okay?”
They were understandably not happy about that. Your frustration was mixing with the liquid courage and taking you to an unhappy, and honestly, quite rude place. You tried not to care so much about it, but your heart was growing heavier with each interaction you were having.
You wave over to Chris, who jumps and scurries to your side. Damage control.
“Hey Chris, you see those girls behind me?” Chris turns to peer at the girls, quite obviously.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I think they’re probably done for now. They were being pretty snarky. Can you bring them some water?”
“Fine.” He grumbles.
You sigh. Chris would probably ignore whatever those girls had to say about you since you forewarned him about their behavior first. It wasn’t your first time throwing the customers under the bus, but you didn't enjoy doing it.
You woke up from your second nap of the day around four. It was still light outside, but just barely. The clouds were making the sky a dull blue. Your hair is a mess, tangled around you. Just by the way it feels against your face, you can tell it probably looks like you accidentally left your windows down at the carwash. Your body is achy and tired. These naps are not exactly refreshing; more depressing than anything else.
It takes you a moment to realize that your phone has been buzzing. You look at the screen through sleepy eyes.
No... Jake.
He’s calling you. The buzz buzz buzz continues as you stare blankly at the screen. Pick. me. up! Answer. The. phone! You tap the screen, sending him to voicemail. That lumpy feeling is happening in your throat again. You feel the sting of emotions wanting to bubble out. Everything you have ignored since Sunday wants to be thrown out. You take your palms and hold them over your eyes, pressing hard; trying to physically repress your tears.
Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.
His name is flashing again over your phone. No! You grab your phone and tap voicemail again. The tears are coming now. They burn going down the sides of your face. The skin is still raw from Saturday night’s blubbering. You use your arms to wipe the tears as fast as they are coming. Your breath is shaky, uncontrolled. You breathe in deeply and try to hold everything in for another moment; trying to collect yourself.
Buzz buzz buzz… Buzz buzz buzz.
“No!” You yell. You grab your phone and throw it into the pile of laundry on the other side of the bed. The faint buzzing continues, only now muffled on the clothes. The burn of feelings is crushing you. Rising again, forcing the heaving and uneasiness to return. You collapse into your hands, holding your face and allowing the tears to fall around you. You lower your head into your lap, folded and compressed in your distress.
Beep! Beep!
Can you get one fucking second? Some idiot out in the parking lot is deciding now is the perfect time to be honking their horn. Do they not realize this is an apartment complex? It's not your friend’s house, it’s a fucking community of people who don’t want to hear that you’re impatient.
Beeeeep! Beeeeep!
You grunt, exhaling as much negativity into your groan as humanly possible. You remove your hands from your tear-soaked eyes and sit up from your stupor. The sadness inside of you is quickly forming into an aggressive mood, overwhelmed by all the excitement. You swing your legs over the bed and angrily stomp over to the window, forcing the glass up to give this asshole a piece of your mind.
“Shut the fuck up!” You yell.
A familiar voice shouts back up to you, “Maybe if you answer your fucking phone!”
You look down to the parking lot to find him there. Jake. In the same spot as he was Friday night. His arm is reached over to the horn, temping another honk. In his other hand, he’s waving his phone at you. He’s wearing black linen pants, a distressed t-shirt, and wearing sunglasses to block any emotions from his eyes. He looks so good.
Seeing him after all of this is painful. You want to jump out of the window and let him take you. The sneaky twinge of jealousy and frustration consumes any feelings of absolving him. You made your decision for a reason.
“No!” You yell back to Jake and slam the window shut.
You return to the bar, and Jake is clearly behind on orders. Breathe. Walk over to him.
“Give me something,” You say, watching him line up the tickets.
He hands you three orders. Beer, beer, and oh more beer. Easy. You slide over to the tap again and start pouring.
“Hey!” Jake yells to you over the crowd and music, “Last time, you sure you’re good?”
You fill the glass and place it down in front of you. Freezing again, trying to collect yourself. Whenever someone asks if you’re good, they clearly know that you are not. That question pushes even a person who is good to a breaking point. But it was especially pushing you, someone who wasn’t good. No, you were not good. No. Not at all. He is the perfect specimen. The perfect gentleman. The perfect lover. Except, he wasn’t perfect. He was hiding. Lying. Holding back from you.
You were also probably being delusional and tipsy at this point which didn’t help your feelings towards him. You wanted to still give your heart away to him, even if he stabbed it, broke it, and kicked it around.
“Not right now,” You look at him, seeing genuine concern in his eyes, “Not now Jake, okay?”
He swallows and nods.
Maybe he did know that you knew.
Shut up. You’re spiraling.
Why the fuck is he here? What is he doing?! What are you doing? You walk over to the bed and fold in half over the mattress. Screaming softly into the comforter. The sheets and mattress vibrate your aggression. You weren’t ready for another confrontation. It was easier to try and ignore everything and let the world slowly collapse in on you. What the fuck?!
Buzz buzz buzz... Buzz buzz buzz.
Ignore it. You’re still upset. You don’t have anything to say to him, and if you tried to now, you’re not entirely sure what would come out of you.
Beep! Beep!
Dont. Don’t engage. Remember, don’t give into his control.
Buzz buzz buzz... Buzz buzz buzz.
Fuck!
You clamor over the bed to reach for your phone, sprawling out in despair. His name is flashing across your screen, you try to use all of your willpower to not answer. But you cave, sliding to answer.
“What?!” You snap into the phone.
“Come outside,” He commands.
“You know Jake,” You try not to sound choked up, “I’m really not in the mood.”
“Just come outside.” His voice sounds sincere, “Please?”
Your heart drops upon hearing his tone. Maybe he’s going to apologize. Maybe he’s going to make it alright.
“Fine.” You reply through grated teeth.
You don’t even bother to dress yourself. Some might consider this look cozy fashion. Grey sweats, band T-shirt, messy hair. You’re practically dressed for a night out! Anger really brings out a moody sarcastic version of you.
You begrudgingly head out into the hallway, each step forceful trying to extinguish the anger. You push past the glass doors and head down the steps into the parking lot. You walk over to him, head hanging low, trying to avoid his eyes. You take your last step in his direction, stopping and planting yourself a few feet away from him. You cross your arms, trying to physically exude your uncomfortable feelings. You look up at Jake.
He’s matching you, standing with his arms crossed. Waiting for you. He seems disappointed in your attitude and probably also your attire.
“Get in the car.” He points to the open passenger-side door.
“Why?” You grill.
He walks over to the driver’s side and opens his door to get in.
“C’mon,” He presses, “Just get in the car.”
You drop your arms and give in to Jake. You resent how easily you cave into him, especially after everything that’s happened. Everything you’ve been mulling over.
The last call finally happens around one. For the most part, the bar is emptying, the music has stopped and only the hushed voices of dates & friends remain. Jake hasn’t checked in on you since you kind of told him to back off. You felt bad for being mean to him when he was trying to be nice to you, but you didn’t want anything else to come out accidentally.
You start to wipe down the counters and collect the empty glasses. Jake finishes closing out tabs and trying to rush people out.
Chris walks over to Jake and whispers something to him. Jake is visibly disappointed in what Chris is telling him. You listen closely, trying not to be obvious.
“Not tonight Chris.” Jake pleads.
“C’mon bud,” Chris begs, “Last time. It’s an emergency.”
“Fine. Fine.” Jake points his finger to Chris, “Last time I’m saving your ass.”
Chris passes over the keys to the bar and Jake snatches them from his hand; shoving them in his pocket and walks over to you.
“I gotta close up. Can you stay?” He asks.
I guess staying would provide the perfect opportunity for alone time with Jake. “Yeah,” you respond.
The car ride has been completely silent. You didn’t dare to break the tension. You didn’t have anything left to say to him unless he had something to say to you.
You catch a glance of yourself in the sideview mirror. Yikes. You don’t look so good. Your eyes are red and puffy, your hair is clearly unbrushed, and you look miserable. Fair, considering how you’ve spent the last few days, but still not your usual polished self. You turn to look at Jake. His hair is doing that stupid perfect windswept thing again. Fuck. You look away and watch the road.
You have no idea where he’s taking you and you’re starting to get concerned about that… The usual houses & buildings on each side have started to stagger, each mile becoming more remote.
You walk back to the office to put the cash register drawers in the safe. Chris left it open for you so he wouldn’t have to give out the passcode. You drop them in the safe, and each box clamors down into the metal box. You push the door shut and lock the electronic safe.
You walk back out into the hallway, trying to prepare yourself for your next move. You know the bar is empty now, the tasks are done. Jake is finishing returning the stools underneath the bar. Instead of immediately pouncing at him, you walk over to the bar and take two clean rocks glasses out. You pull a bourbon off the shelf and pour each of you a drink. He looks at you, confused for a moment.
“Jake… Please sit,” You ask. The tones of disappointment are hard to shake now that the right time has come.
You put down his drink and pass it towards him across the bar. He sits down on the stool and accepts the glass from you.
“What?-” He begins to ask.
“Jake.” You cut him off, “Mariella said something to me.”
The words are out. The anxiety is consuming you. The rage, the confusion, the insecurities, the frustration, all of it taking you entirely. Your arms are shaking. Your legs feel wobbly and unsure if they can hold you. A pit drops in your stomach. It feels like you’re the first car on a rollercoaster, heading straight down, closing your eyes, hoping you don’t fly off the tracks. You try your best to maintain eye contact with Jake, analyzing every facial muscle, and trying to read him.
He takes a sip of the bourbon, holding it in his mouth a moment, before taking one big gulp. “What did she say?”
He’s too calm for your liking. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered at the thought of Mariella talking to you. Are you overreacting? You don’t like the way this situation is making you feel.
“She said,” You take a deep breath, trying to not sound shaky or upset, “Well, she said you were at her house last night.”
You wash down the words with a swig of alcohol, trying to mellow yourself out.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be-” Jake reaches for your glass, and you snap your hand back, clutching the drink to your chest.
“Jake.” You scold. Reminding him he should be responding to your statement, not trying to baby you.
He sighs and covers his mouth, rubbing his face. His expression gives away signs of guilt. He looks down at the counter, taps a few fingers, and looks back up to you, “Yes. I was at her house last night.”
Fuck.
A flurry of raw emotion floods you. You grip the edges of the counter, holding on for dear life. You bite your lip to try and keep it from trembling. Your eyes are welling up and you feel stupid standing like an idiot in front of him. You were an idiot to think that he was yours. You were an idiot to think that someone like him could want just you. You were an idiot to think that he wasn’t trying to seduce any other coworkers. You were an idiot for not getting to him sooner. And you were an idiot for letting him have you.
“After you saw me?” You croak. Your voice is unfortunately shaking, unable to prevent the upset tone from presenting itself.
“Yes.” His answers are cold, stripped of any warmth.
Shit. You idiot. You’re so stupid. Of course, he went to her after you. That’s why he rushed out in a panic, scared to disappoint her. You choke down the remainder of your bourbon.
“Why?”
“I had to.” He states.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Your answers are starting to be harsher, the alcohol pushing you into a mean-spirited tone. You’re frustrated and angry that he’s not comforting you, that he’s only doing the bare minimum.
“Hey,” He snaps. “Nothing happened.”
“Oh really?” You snap back, “You want me to believe after seeing how she reacted, and how quick you were to rush out last night that nothing happened?...” Jake sits there for a moment, taking in your punches. Not fighting back, not saying anything, “I believe it was you who once said nothing doesn’t mean nothing, Jake.”
Jake exhales, trying to keep his cool exterior, which is pissing you off even more, “If I say nothing happened, I mean it.”
You grab your face in your hands. Trying to hold yourself together a little longer. The echoes of his words and Mariellas echo in your head. You feel ashamed, you feel alone. You want him to reach across the bar and tell you everything is all right and that you’re his, and you don’t have to worry about her. That he wants you to be his, that he needs it. That no one else in the world has compared to you, that he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you.
But now this complicates everything. Your head is spinning. Gauging whether to trust him or to push him away. Your insecurities flood through you, reminding you that he wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want the drama. He didn’t want the insecurity: he wanted easy, he wanted the chase, he wanted the fun. You couldn’t be easy when you knew all you could think about was him. And here you were now, thinking about him with someone else.
The road ends in a small cul-de-sac by a nature trail. He shuts the car off and walks over to your door to open it. You sit further back into the seat, scared of the situation. Scared of his silence.
“C’mon.” He reaches his hand out to you.
You hesitate for a moment, meeting his eyes, showing your distaste. You grab his arm and let him lift you out of the seat.
“What is going on?” Jake finally breaks your silence.
You pull your head away from your dripping hands. You wipe them on the front of your jeans.
“Jake I can’t do this.” You look dead into his eyes.
“What are you talking about?” He asks.
This feminine rage urges through you. You’ve been in his control for too long. You’ve let him call the shots, you’ve waited for him to make you his prey. You waited for him to text you first. You waited for him to make the first moves. You let him tell you what he wanted, and he let you forget what you needed.
“Jake I don’t believe you!” You snap. Every inch of your heart is fracturing. You think about all the conversations you’ve had at the bar, every night you’ve worked together in harmony. Every moment where you’ve been close to him. Every moment you’ve been his. Only to be shot back down to one of his. “I have so many feelings about you, too many. I am jealous. I am upset that you didn’t stay the night still. I thought we were starting, I thought everything that I had hoped for was finally coming true. I have been waiting months for you to notice me. Every Saturday hoping you’d look at me a little longer than the last. I’ve lived the chase that you want so badly. I lived it every weekend, trying to play at every angle. I’ve been waiting for you, and you don’t even seem like you want me!”
Jake reaches to grab your arm, “Hey, why don’t you-”
“No! No Jake. I don’t want to calm down. I’m frustrated. I’m confused. I’m confused especially as to why you went to see Mariella last night. I’m confused as to why one of my friends is mad at me now. I’m confused as to why the boy I like was so worried about disappointing her and had to rush away from me to go see her. Something had to happen, and if it didn’t last night, it had before. And I am so hoping I’m not right. Because that would mean, you went behind her back to see me, and she went behind my back knowing I wanted you.”
You take a deep breath. Everything is on the table. Your poker face is gone. Your cool, chill, fun side is gone. You are upset. You’ve revealed yourself too early on. The liquid courage has taken its hold on you, becoming a truth serum. You feel so stupid for it all.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake scoffs. He takes a swig from the bourbon.
“That’s it?” You say through tears, “That’s all you can say to that?”
“What do you want me to say? You want me to be perfect?” He leans into you, “I am not going to be who you want me to be, ever.”
His tone is serious, and cold, and makes you want to crawl up and lay on the floor. You wipe the tears from your eyes, and walk around the bar to him, standing at his eye level. You put your finger on his chest, pinning him, “I don’t need you to be perfect, I just wanted you. And you fucking ruin it every time. No matter how well you ‘take care of me’ you only come around when you get something from it.”
“Don’t forget who started those games,” He pulls your finger off of his chest, “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me? You’re telling me you weren’t in it for the sex either? You seemed to also really enjoy those moments.”
His digs hurt. He makes you feel small in this moment. You know he’s right. But that doesn’t excuse how hurt you still are. You do want him. You did need him. Sexually. The tension that has been fabricated in your chest was imploding. You take your hand back from Jake and stare at him for a moment. Both of you are full of rage… And lust.
He grabs your waist firmly and pulls you into him. Your hair hangs over the edge of his face; you’re so close… You look down in his lap to see how restricted he is against his jeans.
“Look at me.” He instructs.
You lift your eyes to meet his. An insatiable look of malice and desire brews behind the brown. An intensity that you haven’t seen has grown inside of him. Every time he’s played this dominant role, you’ve known that he wasn’t actually angry or upset with you, but this time… This time it was different. You loved it. You loved how you could actually see something behind his eyes, see the passion; he felt something because of what you said. This moment of deep, intense passion is almost enough to make you forgive him, but you still aren’t ready to let go.
“Jake,” You whine.
He pulls you further into him, taking his hand to the back of your head, and pulling you into his lips; your faces mashing together. The anger is like an aphrodisiac, making his taste insatiable. He stands, kicking the stool back behind him. It clatters to the floor, sending echoes through the bar. He shifts his arm around from your head to your neck and holds it tightly between his grip. You pull away from him, trying to choke at the air. You reach up and grab out to his stomach, trying to paw at him.
“You’re not going to do this to me,” He says through grated teeth. He relieves his hand from your neck and pushes you over the counter, your gut wedged into the counter.
“Jake!” You exclaim.
He brushes himself across your jeans, letting you know he’s taking control. He takes his hands and runs them across your thighs, up your legs, and across your stomach. He runs his fingers towards the button on your jeans, quick to undo it along with the zipper.
“Not my name,” He barks to you.
You feel burdened by the weight of the situation, but you can’t deny feeling his touch is softening the blow. He reaches down the front of your pants, his hands just barely meeting your warming clit. He uses his force to pull you back towards him. Allowing you to better feel his cock pressed against your ass.
“Sir!” You yell.
He backs himself away from you, and a quick pained smack raps across your ass. Tears start forming in your eyes. You close them, trying to hide the glossiness.
“This is what my slut gets when she talks like that to me.”
“Please!” You yell, through gasps.
“Color.”
You know you can take it, and you know you want to take it. Feeling him want you is the only thing holding you. “Green!” You cry.
Another quick hand marks your ass. You hold onto the counter for dear life.
“Do you like feeling this way?” He asks, “Do you like being punished?”
You want to scream ‘no’. You don’t like making him angry, you want him to be happy with you. But secretly you both know that his dark side is more enticing. It's addicting. Having him act this way is the only way you know he wants you. He’s right you won’t get a soft Jake, you won’t get the perfect boyfriend. But that’s not what you want right now. You want this frustration to be taken from you; taken from him too. Most importantly you know having him this way is the reason you’re starting to get wet. “Yes!” You squeal. You prepare yourself for another hit, but nothing comes.
You start to lift yourself back up, easing your gut away from the rounded counter. Before you can even get inches off the surface, a hand comes down on your head, pressing your face into the cold wooden bar. The smell of cleanser is burning your nose. You feel everything in that moment. The counter that’s pressing into you, the stickiness of it attaching to the side of your face, the strong hand holding you down, and your body collapsing over his will. Jake assumes his mounting position behind you again, leaning into your ear.
“When will you ever learn?” He asks.
“Never sir,” You spit back between pressed lips.
Jake scoffs and releases his hand from your head, moving it down to the small of your back. He takes his hand and yanks your pants down to your ankles. Your ass is bare and red, presenting itself to him.
He takes his free hand to bring it back to your front, dancing his fingers over your tender clit. You can feel the warmth, the wetness, growing. Your brain is telling you that this is what you need, “This,” He says, applying pressure, reaching further down your pussy, “Is mine.”
“Sir-”
“No.” He barks back, “Color.”
“Green…” You whine. You know you want this. You want him. You need his touch, need to feel secure in this moment. The thoughts of him you’ve been having are consuming you, you want your jealousy to be fucked out of you entirely.
You hear the jingle of his belt as he takes off his own pants. You dare not move or open your eyes to see. He’s groaning softly, you can hear him start to take himself into his hand. You listen to him lubricate himself, the wet sloshing sounds filling your ears, hearing each pump of his cock in his hands. He presses himself against you again, meeting the threshold of your needy heat. He takes his hands and rubs them over your hips, making large slow movements over your body. He’s teasing you entirely.
He knows what he wants to do to you, but he has to make it as painfully slow as possible. He rolls his hand over your hips and begins directing towards your cunt. Each second that passes is getting slower, and slower until he slips his middle and ring finger inside of you.
You gasp, not expecting his fingers to breach you so soon. He takes his other hand to grab your face, his fingers sprawled out on either side of your jaw. “See?” He asks. He slides his fingers out from you, and you open your eyes, “You want this…” He lifts his fingers to show you the dripping wet digits, “You’re already wet for this.”
He’s right, you are. You knew it all night, every glance at him made you want him more. When he saved you from that asshole you wanted him right then. You had been fighting your need for him to touch you. Each moment that he wasn’t touching you, you wanted him more.
“I know sir,” You reply.
He takes the fingers and puts them in your mouth. You take them in, suckling up to the knuckles. His rough fingers linger in your mouth for a moment, making sure that you take everything in. He slides them out of your mouth and proceeds to move them back between your shaking legs. He doesn’t insert them, but rather teases your clit, touching just lightly enough to drive you mad.
“This is what you get,” He snaps.
Without warning his cock breaches you, and he is by no means gentle with you. Pushing himself in, the hilt of his shaft meeting your body. He grunts aggressively feeling you envelop him completely. A sharp breath escapes you, feeling completely unprepared for his size. He’s stronger, rougher than he had been with you before. A new energy has taken him.
He grabs hard onto your hips, taking a hold you know will leave marks worse than before. He’s using your body as leverage to rock himself in and out of you. Each stroke comes at you harder, pushing your body further into the counter. He’s fucking you into oblivion.
“Please!” You moan.
He starts to pick up his motion, pounding you harder against him. Your groans are loud, echoing through the empty bar. Your unprepared pussy is aching, feeling yourself stretch over him, trying to adapt to his size. With minimal warm-up, he’s testing your body's limits. Your knuckles are red and tight squeezing on the edges of the counter. Your breath is sustained to limited gasps, unable to take in too much with the counter being wedged underneath you. Bouncing forward, face gripping to the bar, knowing there would be no way to make yourself more comfortable.
Jake reaches up and grabs a chunk of your hair, pulling it back from your scalp. You’re arched completely, stomach tightened against the edge of the bar. You adjust your hands to try and hold yourself from completely cutting your stomach off. He reaches his other hand under your stomach, finding a new way to leverage himself further in you.
“Fuck!” You gasp.
“Color!” He demands.
“Green!” Your whole body is in blissful agony. Not feeling any pain, but pure raw pleasure. He’s swiveling his hips, moving his cock inside of you. Each stroke forcefully passes over your g-spot, sending signals of complete dopamine to your brain.
His soft deep grunts are signaling he’s close, and you are too. The pounding is becoming overstimulating; needing a release. You moan with each pump, letting him know you're on the brink of boiling over. He releases your hair and scoops you up by your neck, not grabbing it but holding it upwards to maintain his positioning.
Through ragged breaths, he still tries to control you, “You don’t cum… until I do.”
“Please, sir!” You protest. You can feel the heat and building happening within you. Your legs grow weaker, shaking against his body. You squeeze onto anything your hands can reach, his arm, the counter… You almost can’t hang on. You tighten yourself and try to hold back any orgasm. The night has been needing a release like this, a moment of selfish pleasure. You wanted him to use you like this, to remind you that he still wanted you.
“Fuck!” He wails. In a few last pumps, he spills into you, and you let yourself go. Completely. A loud pleasured moan escapes from your lips. Your body convulses at the final feeling. A warm hot burn caressing you, sending tingles through your muscles. Your body collapses in his arms as the two of you mix together.
He places you on the counter gently, careful to not let your head completely smack against the surface. He slowly pulls out of you, both of you gasping at the over-stimulating sensation. You watch him from the corner of your eye, trying to regain your breath.
He carefully tucks himself back into his jeans and falls back onto the stool. You pry yourself from the counter and slowly pull your jeans back on. The feeling of denim pressing against your aching pussy doesn’t feel great, but you’d rather not be the only one still showing off.
The release you had been wishing for finally came, but you didn’t feel the sour memory of dishonesty leave with the pleasure. The feelings of euphoria start to pass. Washing away from you like a tide being pulled in. The satisfaction swooshes away from you, leaving behind the mess that it had tried to cover.
The clarity of the situation clouds back over you, still wondering about the unanswered questions. Feeling him take you was exactly what you wanted, but it still didn’t give you everything you needed. He did want your body, but it wasn’t clear whether he wanted you. He didn’t tell you the full truth or really answer anything. All he did was attempt to distract you so you’d shut up and forget the whole thing.
The lust has quickly left your body and mistrust begins to consume you again. You try to engage with him after this moment, hoping that maybe the sex will have loosened him up. You walk over to him; he’s nursing a few sips of the remaining bourbon, trying to calm himself. His breathing is deep, exhausted. You reach out to him, and he grabs your hand to pull you towards him, wedging your legs between his.
You reach out to move the hair out of his face, lightly brushing your fingers across his forehead, moving the airborne pieces back to their rightful place. A ritual of sorts for you two. You pat down his head, matting his hair back into shape. Trying to find the courage to speak again.
“Jake…” You coo, “What was going on with you and Mariella?”
He pulls his head away from your hand and looks at you with a disgusted expression.
“Nothing.” He replies, still in his dominant form. “You have to get over this.”
He had you where he wanted you. But you also had him cornered in a lie. You know if he can’t even tell you what happened, then he was hiding behind an excuse. The rage is starting to fill you again. Any progress that was made from your earlier fulfillment was gone, the envy was in full effect. You deserved the truth. Considering how much of yourself you’ve given to him; your body, your control, your thoughts… All of it belonged to him, and he couldn’t even amuse you with the truth.
You pull away from his legs, scoffing, brewing with irritation. You wrap your hands around your face, trying to clasp onto the last bits of sanity that remained
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You throw your hands in the air towards him, “You can’t even answer that question? After I just did all of that for you?”
“For me?” He scoffs, “You were the one getting worked up so I would do that to you!”
“No Jake, I wasn’t getting worked up so you would fuck me!”
Jake stands to assert himself again, “Sure seemed like it…”
“No, that’s not what that was. I didn’t want this to be the outcome, but after the fact, I was hoping that one little moment of intimacy would maybe compel you to tell me the fucking truth.”
“I don’t even know what else to tell you.” He sits back down on the stool, dismissing your worries, voiding his emotions.
“Fuck this.” Tears stream down your eyes. “Fuck you, Jake! You lead me on, you make me feel important, and you can’t even do me the justice of telling me the fucking truth! I’m just an easy fuck for you huh? One of your little sluts you can toy and play with!” The anger is crescendoing, “Fuck you for making me feel this way!”
You swivel and turn to leave the bar. The tears stream over your eyes and your breath becomes ragged. Each step away from him feels like it takes forever. It feels like you’re walking away from the most important thing that’s happened to you. You’re walking away from the passion, from the beauty, from the sincerity. In just a few days Jake had made you feel like no other man had, he meant more to you than he probably even realized. He couldn’t even see how much of an impact he’s made on you, and judging by his reaction, maybe you’ve done nothing to him. Each step is a soft goodbye from a future with Jake, but it's also a goodbye to pure trouble.
A loud shattering sound pops up behind you. You snap your neck to see the cause. Jake had smashed his drink; the amber liquid mixing in with the shards on the bar floor. Jake doesn't linger to see the mess he made, instead already heading out to the front door. The trail of glass stays put behind him.
His anger pains you. His upset pains you even more. His reaction means that there was more to say, but you wouldn’t listen and he wouldn’t tell you.
You run out the back door into the cold fall night. The breeze frosting the wet edges of your eyes. You feel so stupid, so dramatic. The whole world is imploding on your heart.
He pulls you through the trail, practically tugging your wrist the whole way through. At this point, you’d wished that you put on better shoes, or maybe brought bug spray. Each step brings a crunch of fresh fallen leaves underneath your feet, clinging onto your fuzzy slippers.
“Jake-”
“Wait,” He says, pulling you harder through the brush.
The trees get scarce, opening up to more sky. Before long, a field appears in front of you. The grass is tall, crisp, and dying, brushing past the legs of your sweats. The wind is blowing a soft chill breeze; the same autumn air that woke you on that Thursday morning and the same air that touched you Saturday night.
He yanks you through, creating a path through the green. The ground is soft beneath your slippers; the damp dirt creates a light brown halo around the edges of your soles. Still being pulled by your wrist you try your best to keep up with his large strides through the grass. It feels like you are being waded through a pool of brush, slowly drowning through the field. He grabs at you harder and pulls you nearly off of your feet.
“Jake!” You protest, yanking your arm back from his grip.
He turns to look at you. You grab your wrist and massage it, trying to ease the light red marks on your wrist. He looks bashful for a moment, seeing the dull pain he caused. He takes a deep breath and paces closer to you.
“Yell.” He commands.
You look up from your wrists a shoot him a confused look.
“What?!”
“What are you upset about?”
“Jake,” You challenge, “I don’t want to do this right now, take me home.”
“I’m not taking you home yet. I asked what you’re upset about.”
You sigh and throw your hands down. You feel like a child whose parents just asked them to tell them about their feelings. This whole situation feels childish. “Jake I’m upset because I feel like I’m not the only one you're sleeping with and that makes me jealous.”
“Okay, and?”
You growl. Seeing him so calm again presents flashbacks to Saturday night. Tossing your stomach around like a punching bag. A welling of tears starts to present behind your eyes, but you try to breathe through it, “And!” You try to hold back the choking, but it's becoming visibly more noticeable, “And I’m mad about that because if something did happen, then you weren’t honest with me, and my friend wasn’t honest with me.”
He crosses his arms for a moment, watching you. It makes you feel uneasy when he does this, you feel insane; like he’s judging you for having real emotions. He gestures out into the field, “You’re mad at me, so yell.”
“Jake, I’m done yelling.” You admit defeat. “Can I go home now?”
“No.”
“Jake.”
“If you’re done, then is it my turn to yell?” He asks.
You fear for what he has to say. He could very easily make you look like an overdramatic woman, putting thoughts into your head, and making it all up. In some ways maybe you were, but you always knew when your gut was right and something was going on. If that’s really why he brought you here, then you definitely made the right decision to get out.
You try to soften your tone and prevent any backlash from him, “Jake…”
He takes in a deep breath and turns away from you to scream into the distance. His anger trailing with the wind, being carried away in a gust. It's a long and painful yell. Deep, full of frustration, and tension. He trails off, breaking his voice. The long note extinguishes with a sweep of the calling air.
He clears his throat and turns to you.
“It's your turn now.”
“No!” You exclaim.
You stand clenching your fists. You want to yell. You really do. You’re so angry about everything too. Angry for letting your lust get in the way of a real conversation. Angry that Mariella is somehow holding one over you. Angry that Jake couldn’t admit anything. Angry for telling yourself to stay away. Angry that you feel alone. Angry…
You rotate away from Jake and let out a gut-wrenching wail. Saturday night bubbles through you.
“Fuck this.” Tears stream down your eyes. “Fuck you, Jake! You lead me on, you make me feel important, and you can’t even do me the justice of telling me the fucking truth! I’m just an easy fuck for you huh? One of your little sluts you can toy and play with!” The anger is crescendoing, “Fuck you for making me feel this way!”
Friday night surges through.
“Yes,” He answers. He beams at you, letting you soak in his happiness, “Be good for me until then, okay?” He pulls you in for one last kiss. When he breaks away, he looks at you another moment before rubbing your cheek and turning away.
Watching him leave is always depressing. This night confirms your feelings for Jake are far past just sexual. The promise of seeing him tomorrow is the only thing keeping you together.
Thursday morning’s pain seeps out last.
“Jake, stop!” you yell to him, scared he might actually leave. His hand is on the knob but he's not turning it. “Why didn’t you stay?” You finally asked it.
Your anger for being alone is releasing itself. Your anger at Jake is releasing. He’s brought you here, he came for you.
You let the cry echo through the field. The wind taking your sorrows away, cleaning your spirit with a bitter touch. You drop to your knees; just barely catching yourself with your hands. Jake walks over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. He uses you as a crutch to lower himself next to you.
“This is where I come when my bandmates piss me off,” He explains. You turn to look at him. Your head is clear, but your eyes are glossing over. “This is where I came Saturday night.”
You rest your hand on his knee, “I just wanted you to tell me the truth,” You cry.
“I know,” He turns to meet your eyes, “You were right. It wasn’t nothing.” You pull your hand from his lap and turn further towards him to engage in his honesty. “Mariella and I did sleep together… Once….” He seems ashamed to admit the truth, “It was after my first week at the bar before I met you.”
“Oh.” You’re disappointed to hear the truth finally come out. You hoped deep down that something really never happened. You hoped that Jake hadn’t given into Mariella’s vixen-like nature. Jake looks down, embarrassed.
“She wouldn’t leave me alone after that. She kept calling me and texting me. I played along for a little, trying to prevent things from being awkward... But then I met you,” He reaches for your hand, “And I knew I wasn’t ready for anything so I didn’t know what to do.” He passes his fingers over your hand. It's undeniable that he’s not used to being this vulnerable. His hands are warm and shaking slightly, “So I waited, and tried to keep Mariella quiet.”
He finally looks back up to you, an awkward and unsettled look flashing across his face. “Then the band really started to play more, and I knew the bar had their live music on Wednesdays… and I knew you always went. I asked Chris to let us play since he owed me anyway. He told me we could have that Wednesday and he let us take the time.
“When the night finally came, I hoped that you would still show up. I selfishly thought that maybe you only came in on Wednesdays to hang out with me, but I was proven wrong.” You laugh, knowing that he was far from the truth on that, “When I saw you at the bar, ugh. I finally had to take you home that night. I could see the way you were looking at me and I just knew I had to do something about it. I’m not the kind of guy who likes waiting.”
“For someone who doesn’t like waiting, you sure seem to drag a lot of unwanted stuff out,” You blurt.
He sits there for a moment gritting his teeth through an embarrassed expression. “Fair point… You really knocked me off my game. As soon as I figured out you had a thing for me, I got all weird.”
You blush, hearing him talk about you like this is new and different; the kind of Jake you can trust. You play with him a little to lighten the mood, “How could you possibly figure out that I liked you?”
“It was quite obvious. Do you realize how bad of a staring problem you have?” He jokes.
You gawk at him, stunned by the truth, and push his arm. “Shut up!” You feel the color rising in your cheeks.
He laughs and his usual Jake smirk splays across his face. It felt good to see him smile like that again.
“I just knew that night, things would be different. I didn’t want to stay because I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it all at once- I’m still not sure if I am. But I felt even more guilty laying in your bed that night because I knew Mariella still wanted something from me too. I didn’t want to give you too much before closing that off completely. I didn’t want her to get any ideas. She already knew we went home together that night and was pissed.”
“She should be fucking jealous,” You joke, nudging him.
He laughs, and smiles smugly, “She was, trust me…” He looks up to the sky, “I told her I would talk to her Friday night,” He looks back at you, “Before you got all horny and texted me.”
“Oh my god!” You playfully push him again.
He laughs again, squeezing your hand harder, “Trust me if I didn’t have to go tell her off, I would’ve been there with you all night… I saw that puzzle in your kitchen and it was killing me to not finish it.”
You smile at him. Thinking about a domesticated form of Jake makes your heart warm. A possibility. “That puzzle still isn’t done.”
“Perfect.” He pulls you into his lap. Holding you softly, resting his arms over the tops of your thighs, “But before we do that puzzle, I have to tell you the rest of my story, okay?”
“Okay.”
He holds the side of your face to turn it to his. “I told her that I wanted you. Okay? She’s jealous that I chose you… Did you hear that? I chose you, okay?”
Your heart is finally lifting out of the hole. The dirt that you once sat in was growing fields of flowers, healing you. He’s lifting you out of the hole, stretching out his hand to grab you, closing the gap. “Okay…”
“I’m not saying I’m ready to be your perfect happy sweet boyfriend or whatever, okay? But there is no one else, and I’m sorry if you thought that.”
I’m sorry. The words you had been craving. He was owning up. It felt like a massive bandage across your heart. He might not be able to give you everything you needed, but this was becoming a fairytale. Sitting in this field with him was serene, healing, natural…
It was your turn to apologize next.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I should have trusted you.” You melt into his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have been such an asshole… Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll get you back for the yelling.”
The sun is starting to set around you. This moment is pure bliss. It's soul-cleansing. He’s brought you to a space of his own, cleared his mind with you, cleared his conscience. It felt good to forgive him.
“Do you want to come over to my place?” He asks, rubbing your shoulder.
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Taglist!: (I love and appreciate all of you for wanting to be on this)
@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gretavansara @sanguinebats @awkwardlyamazing2000
#jake kiszka smut#jake greta van fleet#jake kiskza x reader#jake kiszka#greta van smut#greta van fleet#greta van fleet smut#gvf smut#gvf fic#jake kiszka fanfic#gvf fanfiction
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I feel like I have been here for days now. Sitting idly by. walking the same path back and forth on autopilot. I hardly feel conscious most of the time, like my mind is running in the background yet never fully aware of whats happening. Sometimes, in small moments I can feel the sand blowing against me. Feel the warmth of the sun.
Tomorrow is my last day here. Been two whole weeks and not a hint of movement. Not that I'm complaining the calm is preferable to the alternative. Every now and then the sensors will light up and pull my attention to something but it's usually a stray bird or the like. The whiplash of the being pulled forward to such a state of focus and then drift back into the background can be pretty taxing on the mind. I will definitely enjoy the few days rest after this.
It's finally here, the last day. The new squad shuffled in and we are out of here. The last day is always tough. First they bring you all the way froward to run a systems check. Then you are pushed so far back you may as well be in a coma. Supposedly its cause the mind cant handle the strain of the desync. Gotta admit even in that unconscious state if feels like I am being torn in half.
All systems are in the green.
Preparing for desync
3
2
1
What.....what is this? Where am I?
Fuck my head is killing me.
Wait, I... I don't remember it feeling like this before.
A rush of air, its defining. I can feel the cold all over my skin. It's never felt this cold before. Is my body shivering or seizing?
The...The light pouring through the crack its blinding. Why won't my vision calibrate? Why can I still see it even when my eyes are closed?
Release that one over there.
I've got this one.
Ok, lets get them up.
Nice and slow.
Make sure to hold them up now we're almost there.
Fuck. I can hardly keep my head up.
I feel like I can hardly move.
Was I always this weak? No.. No I swear I could... Wait no was that?
Ok your gonna feel a slight pinch alright.
Everything is ok you're doing great.
I... I...I...I..... This what is it?
I...It's all coming back. I can feel my fingers agin.
The tendons in my arm, feels like they are recalibrating.
Each, finger
one at a time.
Ok last thing we're gonna disconnect the cable ok.
It's gonna feel a little strange ok but nothing you haven't done before alright.
Shhhhhhhhit! It feels as though my spine is being pulled out through my neck. I can feel a strong jolt through my entire body. Every part of me tense to the point I feel its gonna rip apart. Then suddenly everything lets go. There, there is nothing left, it, she's ...n.. nevermind.
Ok thats it!
You did fantastic!
Take your time ok when you're ready we're gonna help you up and get you outta there ok.
My hands come up slowly, aching, to cradle my head. I feel my fingers slide with apprehension across my forehead and through the thin layer of fuzz on my head. It's soft, cut short. it feels good as my hands lightly brush against it. My fingers slide even further back, down the back of my neck all the way to the port at the base. They trace the edges of it, where the cold metal meets my skin, the point where we were just one. My arms close around my face as I feel tears begin to roll down my cheeks.
It's more than just the desync. They rip out a part of me ever time I step out of that cockpit. I can feel memories, absent. Gaps where it wasn't just you or me but us, missing. I am only half of a whole agin. An incomplete being. They pull us apart to make us rely on them make us serve them. I always forget when we are together but it becomes painfully clear when you are no longer there.
It's ok, take all the time you need.
Your mind will reacclimate just give it time.
A lie they tell every time. Sure it becomes more bearable over time, but your absence is always felt. The echos of you in my mind linger. I know it is only a week without you but I can't seem to gather the strength to step out of the cockpit. To leave you behind. Alone. I sit motionless in your frame. Both of us touching yet unable to connect.
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What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins? Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
I'm still surprised that people are interested in this but hey, if you want more, I'll keep writing more! Thanks again for all of your nice comments. I think I managed to tag everyone that wanted to be tagged. If not, let me know and I will tag you in the next part!
~*~*~*~
Steve called his mom on his fourth day of being in the city. He had already used his charm to secure a job at a preppy coffee shop in downtown Chicago. And he had put her name down as a reference in an effort to secure the studio apartment located above the shop. She seemed surprised that he had stayed in touch, despite him telling her he would. Regardless, she remained engaged throughout their admittedly short conversation and told him about his friends visiting the house. And wasn’t that a baffle. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice his absence, much less go to look for him at all. Maybe that meant that he could still be of use to them despite him acting hastily.
Later that day, he called Dustin from his motel room phone. Mrs. Henderson answered and told him that Dustin was at the Wheeler’s house playing DnD. She asked if Steve wanted to leave a message but he declined and said his goodbyes. He didn’t want to bother Dustin if he was going about his typical routine. Maybe his mom was wrong about them worrying about him?
He called Family Video next to speak to Robin. Steve was not mad at his best friend, he was happy for her. She was finally in a happy relationship, she was spending time with family, and she was aiming to go away to college in the fall. Even still, their growing distance stung. She had better things to worry about than some dumb jock that dragged her into the nasty Upside down business. But man, talking to his best friend after being entirely alone for a little while sounded pretty damn good.
“Hello, Family Video, how can I help you?” Robin answered with bored inflection.
“Hey Robs, it's Steve.”
He heard a clatter over the phone before she hurriedly responded, “oh my god, Steve? What the hell, Steve. Where are you? I leave town for four days and you fall off the face of the planet. Jesus Christ, are you okay?”
Steve smiles at her familiar rambling and lets out a happy sigh. “I’m alright. How was your grandma?”
He hears an angry grumble and hardly has time to brace himself before she releases her worried wrath. “We are not talking about my grandma, Steve! We’re going to talk about you. About how you left town without telling anyone after avoiding everyone for months and getting kicked out by your parents. What the fuck, Steve! Why wouldn’t you come to one of us? We could’ve helped you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit Steve!” He full-body flinched at the venomous word. “People that are fine do not run away from town without telling any of their friends!”
Steve rolled his eyes and huffed, “I’m surprised anyone even noticed.”
There was a moment of silence in which Robin stared at Eddie with the phone held between them. Thinking she may have hung up, Steve pulled the phone away from his ear to look at it before asking quietly, “hello?”
Eddie spoke then in a subdued and quiet tone, “why wouldn’t we have noticed, Steve?”
Steve blinked in shock. He hadn’t realized that Eddie was there. This was too much, too quick. Apparently his friends had noticed he was gone and were offended he left without telling them. What the fuck.
“No one has wanted me around for weeks! I’ve been alone for months and the only time someone reached out, it was for a ride or to borrow money for the arcade. No one even talked to me unless I reached out first. So, I didn’t think it would be a big deal if I left. I didn’t realize anyone would notice.”
Robin or Eddie made a strange keening sound before Eddie spoke into the phone. “Steve, you’re our friend. Of course we noticed, man. Where are you now?”
Steve let out a derisive laugh of disbelief, “some friends, man. You don’t even like me. I have to go. Bye.”
He placed the phone back in its cradle and laughed humorlessly. How dare they say they cared now that he was gone? Their actions certainly didn’t show it. Some revelations have been made since Spring Break. He knew they were his friends but he definitely wasn’t theirs. So much for staying in touch. That’s on him for being hopeful he mattered to someone.
~*~*~*~
“No, no, no, Steve!” Robin yelled into the phone but Steve had already hung up. Tears bled from her eyes as she realized just how much she had messed up with her best friend. She cried as she watched the phone, waiting for Steve to call back.
Eddie looked stricken on the other side of the counter where he held the phone in front of him, unseeing eyes clouded and looking into the distance. He set the phone back on the cradle and settled his elbows on the counter before letting his face fall into his hands. Of all the things Steve could have said, Eddie had not been expecting him to say he thought Eddie didn’t like him. He might love the guy. He had blown things out of proportion though and his attempts at protecting his own heart had broken Steve’s.
Robin looked up at Eddie through her eyelashes, tears still dripping down her face. “How are we going to fix this, Eddie? He’s my best friend. He can’t just be gone.”
Eddie stressfully ran a hand through his unruly curls as he sighed. “I don’t know. How did we not realize it had gotten so bad?”
“I don’t know, it’s Steve! He’s always there, he’s just… Steve. He’s never not okay,” Robin said, gesturing as if to motion to Steve’s ‘okayness’.
“Apparently not! But what do we do now? The Chief said he couldn’t file a missing persons report because he left of his own damn free will. What else can we do?”
Robin just shook her head and turned to help a customer ready to check out at the counter. Both her and Eddie made a silent promise to themselves. They were going to fix this somehow.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20: Epilogue
Taglist:@nickavalens@conversesweetheart@themostunoriginalpersonever@swimmingbirdrunningrock@eddiethegreatteddybear @call-me-big-eyes @cornwallisandkerley @moonshadows-13 @glittergluekintsugi @cpidcupk @doubleb11 @mentalcyborg @amoris-no-smut-allowed @purple-lemonade @labels-are-for-the-weak @thebrazilianatheist @rajumat @livelaughlexa @5ammi90 @colorful565 @marvelousforlife @chaoticcoffeequeen @gregre369 @suddenlyinlove@thegreatmistake @stillfullofshit @nburkhardt @batxsignalsx @newunknowns @thosemessyvibes @tailsfromthecrypt @luciana-rowan @batxsignalsx
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#dustin henderson#steddie#fanfic#I hate writing dialogue#how angsty should I make this?#so far the party is all talk#so much miscommunication#poor Steve is going through it
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Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Part 3 ✧ Part 4 (finale) of Harrington Charms Hellfire ✧ AO3
Sometimes Steve thinks the real Upside-Down is his life before any of it really happened, before the demogorgon, before Will going missing, before he ever even met Robin, because that life feels like such a distant memory it might as well be a completely different person's.
In the moments between all the chaos and yelling and laughing, when everyone's quiet and like, content? It hits him harder than any punch (obviously not any punch given all his experience with getting them, but he's allowed to exaggerate when he has Dustin, Robin, Erica and Eddie being dramatic as possible around him every single day) that this wasn't always his life.
He didn't always know the best way to bribe Dustin was by offering to take him to the diner with the most expensive fucking fries but totally worth the price.
He didn't always answer the phone to find Erica calling him up for another round of ice cream at the Sinclairs' while she goes on and on about how Chelsea has betrayed her by cozying up to Valerie after they already made a pact about it.
He didn't always have Robin gently reminding him about people's names and their plans for the week and what he had that morning because fuck, did he have breakfast? Robin, what - ("We had pancakes and that gross syrup you buy even though I keep telling you it's not sweet enough, which means I have to use like half the bottle in one go -")
It's pretty weird to think about. That all of that is some kind of after instead of an always. It's nice.
He could do without the repeated banging on his front door though. Like why do none of his people know how to knock?
"Ready to have your mind blown, Stevie?" Eddie Munson stands outside his house with a wide grin and guitar hanging over his back like a weapon. It kind of is, in some ways.
"Get in here, jackass," Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie cackles his way through the door and straight to the couch in the sunroom ("What does that even mean, sunroom? Who has a sunroom?! If it's facing the pool, shouldn't it be the poolroom? Give me answers, whoever constructed this hellish house!") without so much as a hug. He shuts the door and trails after the madman. "What, no 'hi Steve, nice to see you, thanks for letting me come over'?"
Eddie whips around with a manic grin and wild eyes. "Haven't you heard? Chivalry is dead, sweetheart."
He has such pretty eyes, Steve thinks idly as Eddie carefully takes off his guitar and jumps into the couch, the kind he really likes looking at in moments of peace and quiet. Sometimes they go big and wide and Eddie pulls a lock of hair over his mouth, but that doesn't hide the way his whole face flushes pink when Steve really leans in.
It's not something he actually knows about Eddie, but Steve does know that he - well, he likes Eddie.
"You said he was glaring at Frank after he gave you that Star Trek thing."
"I mean yeah, but that could have been for anything, maybe they fought before I came 'round or something."
"Hmm, true, but I am personally inclined to the idea that he was jealous."
"You just want to make fun of him."
"Absolutely I do."
Steve shakes his head and walks over to knock Eddie on his head, laughing when he immediately pouts up at him. "It's lunchtime, Munson, and we agreed to eat first before you pull me into one of your 'artist moments'."
Gasping, Eddie immediately launches into the same lecture he does every time Robin makes fun of how focused he is while writing out a campaign idea ("Can you believe we used to know nothing about this stuff? And now it's like, saved our lives and we play it every other week. Who even are we?"). Steve walks on to the kitchen as Eddie raves behind him and doesn't even bother pushing down the fondness in his chest, the fondness he knows is written all over his face.
Yeah, Steve and Robin are pretty sure he's like, totally in love with Eddie at this point. It probably should be a bigger deal than it is but honestly, a couple years surviving another apocalypse and being distrustful of most authority figures (including but not at all exclusive to the American fucking government) really puts that kinda shit into perspective.
"Robin, how do you ask a guy out?"
"Gee, that's a great question, I hope I never have to find out."
"...you were the wrong person to ask this."
"No shit, Stevie."
So yeah, Steve's in love with Eddie Munson and the whole world's gonna know about it.
Because he has a plan.
Step one: get the guy to come over for lunch - easily accomplished once Steve promises to make his pizza casserole, a Buckley-exclusive recipe until today (with said Buckley's approval of course, because it's the fanciest thing Steve can do without fucking up like three times in a row).
Step two: use said lunch as a way to make easy conversation and settle nerves - already in action, just need to get his oven mitts on first.
"Oh my god," Eddie moans when Steve pulls the casserole out of the oven, the melted cheese and crusted pasta looking delicious, way to go, Harrington. "Oh fuck, that smells so fucking good, oh my god."
Steve laughs, quickly setting the dish down and poking it with a fork so his face has time to cool down. "Buckley approved and Munson sanctioned, huh?"
"Jesus Christ, let me at it -" Eddie reaches for the dish, hands squeezing mid-air before Steve slaps them both, mitts and all. "Ow! What was that for?!"
"Have some fucking patience, man." Steve sets the casserole onto the trivet ("Our latest word of the week!") and carries the whole thing to the dining room. He calls out behind him before Eddie can even walk, "And bring over the plates from the sink, they're clean."
"No shit!" Eddie calls back and Steve just laughs again when he walks into the dining room with the plates held up over his head, knees and arms bending awkwardly like he's some sort of gangly creature with zero limb coordination. He sets down the plates with a bow and in a weird voice croaks, "Your plates, my liege."
Steve looks at the gremlin of a man in front of and his heart beats once, twice, saying 'yes, this one, this one too, please.'
"Okay, Smeagol," he snorts and jumps when Eddie smacks his shoulder. "Dude, what the hell, I'm -"
"Since when do you read Lord of the Rings?!" Eddie smacks his shoulder again when he rolls his eyes. "That reference is way too obscure for you to just know!"
The casserole is firm enough that he can lift a piece to a nearby plate with zero casualties, but he still doesn't take his eyes off it for a second. "Dustin and Lucas talk about it all the time, even Max does the whole 'my precious' thing. It's not that obscure."
"Steve Harrington," Eddie shakes his head and Steve sighs when both plates are set, the rest of the casserole intact. "You are something else, man."
When Steve turns around, he's struck by how fond Eddie's eyes are, staring at him, smiling at him, sweet and soft. It's heady, makes him smile back, makes him forget every step of his plan, makes him lean in. Eddie doesn't flinch, eyes fixed on him, but does inhale sharply when Steve takes his hand, slowly settling his fingers between Eddie's until they're holding hands warmly, gently, lovely.
"Steve?" Eddie murmurs, eyes flitting all over Steve's face like he's tracking every spot, mole and freckle he can find.
And that right there is what gives Steve the courage to say, "Look, I -"
Brrrrrrng!
Which is exactly why the doorbell rings. Because when Steve is brave, the universe just has to keep pushing him to find the limit of his patience too. God damn it.
"Be right back," he sighs, letting go of Eddie's hand to pat him on the shoulder with a weak smile. Eddie doesn't seem to mind, staring down at his hand like it has the answers to the universe. He walks to the door when the doorbell rings yet again. "Don't start without me."
Eddie doesn't reply and Steve sighs again, opening the door with a tilted head at whoever - "Harrington!"
Steve blinks and tilts his head even more. "Frankie? What's up, man?"
"It's time to discuss." Frank stands tall in his doorway, holding up what looks like a giant roll of paper under his arm. Steve doesn't even want to know what the plastic bag in his hand has. Frank glances around, as if there's anybody else out here, and his voice drops to a whisper. "We need a plan on how you're going to woo Eddie."
Eyes widening, Steve quickly shuts the door and shoves Frank away from the entrance ("I may have the pointy elbows but you've got the strong arms, so together our jabs would be like unstoppable!") . He glances back at the house, relieved when Eddie doesn't come shooting out at the very sensitive information. "What the hell, dude?"
"Listen to me," Frank continues, leaning against Steve's car as if he's not being cornered, setting Steve's teeth on a grind. "Procrastinating this is not the solution, and if you really want to court him properly -"
"Do you have to say it like that?!" Steve runs a hand through his hair. He should have known this would happen and he still got cocky. Fuck. "Look, this is stupid, I'm -"
"Strategy is never stupid, Harrington," Frank seethes, poking his chest harshly. Fuck, what's his deal with using last names anyway? "You want to ask Eddie out, so you asked Hellfire for aid. And our aid is about coordination, patience and a step-by-step tactical journey that includes failsafes for every occasion."
"Oh joy," Steve snorts. He crosses his arms and leans on one leg ("You're the one who said it's our bitchiest move! Besides, it always works, doesn't it?"), eyebrows raised high. "Look, I appreciate the help, but considering the fact that I've literally got Eddie in my house right now, I think I'm doing just fine."
"He's what?!" Frank's smug face turns pale and he whips a glance at the house before slapping Steve's arm with a hiss. "And you're mentioning this only now?! I had to take a bus here man!"
"Ow!" Steve glares back, rubbing the spot. It's basically nothing, barely a sting, but he feels the need to make a show of it to prove a point ("Oh my god, you have been hanging out with Eddie too much, he's infected you - fight it, Stevie! Only you and I can infect each other!"). "I would have said it earlier if someone hadn't -"
"Shh!" Frank rudely smacks Steve's arm again, the prick, and gives a...nervous smile to the house?
"What -" Steve turns around to find Eddie's glare through the window before it quickly turns to surprise and disappears. Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, god fucking damn it. "Okay, well, this conversation is over because now I need to do damage control before any wooing."
Frank nods with a wince. "Perhaps...I could have called first."
"Perhaps," Steve mocks before letting out a laugh and patting Frankie's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, man, I'll just tell him you were trying to start another fight about the tribbles and fuzzies."
"It's a valid -"
"Frankie," Steve says sternly and watches amusedly when Frank deflates.
He still squints and pokes Steve's chest again. "Next time. You owe me the bus fare. Twice."
"Bring food over," Steve calls out as Frank starts to walk away. "I'm not cooking for you if I have to pay!"
"Eat shit, Harrington!"
And Steve laughs and laughs because he finally feels so light after all this time. With a sigh, he makes his way back to the house, startling when Eddie's face in the window makes another appearing-disappearing act.
Huh.
Well, in Eddie's defense, it's pretty suspicious that Frank came over with a roll of paper and bag of markers, right?
"Eds?" Steve walks in, a smile growing when he sees Eddie lying on the stairs in the most unnatural position possible, stretched out with one hand holding up his head and his leg crooked up on the other knee. He lets out a laugh when Eddie blinks at him. "Comfortable?"
"One hundred percent," Eddie croaks, sliding down the stairs, Jesus it's like he's made of liquid, until he's a pouting puddle on the floor. "Why'd Frank come over? I didn't tell him I was here."
"Eh," Steve shrugs, holding out a hand and, when he takes it in his own, pulling Eddie up. "Thought he could finally prove his conspiracy theory about the tribbles again."
Eddie doesn't reply, eyes flickering down to their hands, warm and connected. Steve purposefully doesn't make a remark or snatch his hand away the way the small, dark corner of his brain is insisting he should ("I think it's time we both stop listening to our dark corners, huh? I'll be your light if you'll be mine."), casually making his way back to the dining room. Something glows in his chest when Eddie's hand squeezes just enough for him to feel, before Steve squeezes back and lets it go so he can pull out a chair.
"Ready to have your tastebuds blown away?"
With a gulp and a very quick shake, Eddie grins at him before dropping into the chair. He squirms around until he settles, legs stretched out and hands behind his head, looking up at Steve with that same, wide grin. "I'm always ready for a Harrington Feast."
"Ew," Steve wrinkles his nose as he gently pushes the chair in, making his way over to the one directly opposite Eddie. "Yeah no, we're not doing that."
"But Harrington Habits -"
"I'm going to punch Gareth next time he says that," Steve grumbles. "I don't care how many movies he wants to try out."
It's honestly a little flattering how quickly Gareth warmed up to Steve after the whole 'Grease' thing, hell, the kid even asked (very angrily and with zero eye contact) if Steve knew how to style his hair to look like Danny Zuko's a couple weeks back. Steve had to take a minute before agreeing but then had to coax him out of the look when it very clearly wasn't working, and offered to help him look for a jacket like Danny's instead.
Nobody knows why or when exactly Hellfire started to mellow out against Steve ("I can't believe all it took was some music, movies and cookies, I'm gonna lose my mind! We should try getting Mrs Byers to invite us for dinner with that charm of yours."). Mike still suspects it started after he offered to host their next game night (they didn't take him up on the offer but Eddie barely took his big shiny eyes off him for the rest of the evening, so it was totally worth asking) but Dustin claims he just wore them down with his "- dad energy, Steve, I had to stop you from wearing your fanny pack to the pool."
Excuse him, Dustin, if El might need tissues in case of a nosebleed or if Robin gets another papercut on something that isn't even paper and needs a band-aid or -
Oh.
Oh god, he's the goddamn babysitter by instinct now, fuck.
"Steve," Eddie says as solemnly as he can with a giant piece of baked macaroni in his mouth. "This is fucking heaven."
Trying his best not to preen, Steve smiles and nods as he takes another bite. But apparently, Eddie isn't finished.
"No, seriously, this is like, if an angel stuffed liquid gold into my hands and told me I could chug it. I'm not even -"
"Dude," Steve laughs. "What does that even mean?"
"You think I know?!" Eddie says, his lips twitching like he's holding back his own laugh. "I'm just the messenger here!"
He doesn't know how they made it through lunch because Eddie kept pulling out stories and jokes that got Steve laughing so hard, he literally choked and needed five minutes just to breathe normally again ("Come on, Stevie, keep breathing for me, match me, come on, don't make me panic too -"). It's like he was doing his best to make Steve lose his shit.
Which.
Huh.
Interesting thought to come back to later, because step two has been completed.
On to step three: clean up lunch together as an excuse to be physically close and make some gentle, casual touches.
Casual, because outright holding his hand might be jumping ahead ("I feel like our impulse control gets better when we're together. Wha - that doesn't count, we were high off surviving the apocalypse and she was very pretty!"), and Steve definitely doesn't want to scare Eddie off.
"I am no coward!" Eddie declares, shoving his hands straight into the sink and under the running water as he turns his nose up at Steve. "If the dishes need be done, then they shall be done, good sir, so sweareth I, noble -"
"Oh my god, just start washing, y'goose," Steve lightly shoves at his shoulder and no surprise that step three is already going well, he's just that good at strategy, thanks Frankie. He picks up the already-washed cup and uses the towel he slapped onto his own shoulder to dry it off. "I don't know how you keep pulling those monologues out of nowhere like that."
"Observation, imitation and practice," Eddie says smugly, wiggling in place as he works on the plates. "It's not all pure talent, y'know, I gotta work at it."
"Ha ha," Steve rolls his eyes, barely able to keep his smile in. He nudges Eddie's shoulder once, lets him nudge back, does it again and repeat, until he just lets his shoulder rest against Eddie's. "Thanks for coming over, man."
"'S no problem," Eddie lightly shrugs his other shoulder. "I...like hanging out. With you."
Steve pauses. There's no "I know, crazy right?" or "The Hair and the Freak, who'da thunk?" or "But don't get sappy on me!" that follows.
There's just him and Eddie, side-to-side. There's gentle sunlight streaming in through the window and it makes his rings shine and there's -
"Eddie, what the fuck, you didn't take your rings off?!"
Without a second thought, Steve grabs his hands out of the water and immediately does a headcount (or is it a ringcount? Whatever, doesn't matter), drying off Eddie's hands with the not-damp side of the towel. None of them got lost ("You keep track of his rings? Stevie - no, that's different, stop turning your gay - sorry - bisexual pining on me!"), so he carefully dabs at them to let the shine through.
That's when it occurs to him that there is, in fact, a person attached to these rings.
Ah.
"I, uh -" Steve coughs. "If you're gonna help with the dishes - I mean, we wouldn't wanna lose any of these, right?"
Peeking up at Eddie, who's entire face is flushed pink, staring straight ("Haha, straight. What? Let me have this -") at him, Steve feels something roll through under his skin, making him stand taller, making his face relax, making him feel like - (You can do this, dingus. I believe in you.")
"Here," Steve says softly, pulling a ring off Eddie's pointer finger slowly, waiting for a refusal. When he peeks back up at Eddie, he's still frozen, wide eyed and blinking repeatedly. He gently pulls off the ring from his middle and ring fingers, and holds the silver collection up in the palm of his hand. "Keep them safe."
Frozen, Eddie doesn't say anything.
"Eddie?" It's impossible to hold back his smirk at this point, even harder not to let it widen when Eddie's eyes snap to his lips. "Did you want me to keep them?"
Before he can put them in his pocket, Eddie snatches them out of his hand and shoves the rings into his own pocket, the noise of clacking metal apparently breaking the spell. He squeaks out an, "All good, Stevie!" and quickly goes back to the sink to shove his hands under the water.
See, that would normally hurt, the idea that Steve's touch needed - needed to be washed off. But he saw Eddie's eyes, his expression whenever Steve touches his skin. That's not disgust.
Nah, that's not disgust at all actually.
Steve smiles as he watches Eddie curse when he almost drops a fork, hair bouncing against the sunlight so prettily. He lightly glides up behind Eddie, gathering the curls together, humming when Eddie freezes again.
"Uh -"
"Can I tie it up?"
Eddie seems to take a moment. "Sure," he says quietly.
Continuing to hum, Steve runs a hand through Eddie's hair, coaxing away any little tangles and knots. It's nice to see he's been keeping up with the new routine he and Mike have started together, even if it took Robin's horror stories of hair damage (which were definitely exaggerated just so she could see Mike's face) to get them to think about it. Once he's got all of Eddie's hair held up, he takes his time getting a hair tie out of his back pocket ("What if I need one and I forget? Or Erica? Or Max? Or -") so that he can stare at the nape of his neck, pale but littered with little pink scars.
How pretty can one guy be? Every little part of him, every expression, every -
And then the phone rings.
What the hell.
"For the record," Steve says before he finally ties up Eddie's hair into a bun that hangs low on his head. He starts slowly stepping away and out of the kitchen. "I like hanging out with you too, Eddie."
Speed walking his way to the phone, Steve lets it ring a few more times, taking in quiet and deep breaths because holy shit, did he just do that? He just did that ("I can't believe you fucking did that, oh my god. I mean - I always believed in you!"). With a grin and a glow in his chest that spreads across his veins like some kind of magic high, he answers the phone.
"Harrington Residence -"
"Steve!" Jeff's voice sounds winded and his heartbeat is already racing fast.
"What's wrong, are you okay?" His blood on fire, ready to hit back, where're the bad guys, his axe, where's his axe -
Jeff swallows a deep breath. "Yeah, no, yeah, yeah I'm fine. I wanted to warn you about Frank."
Steve blinks, moves the phone away to stare at it, before putting it back to his ear. "Why, what did he do?"
"He said he was coming over to help with that thing even though you said you'd handle it, and I know you're meeting up with you-know-who so like, be alert."
His eye is twitching. Fuck, he better not be getting a headache today, it's his day off to chill for once, he deserves better than this. "He already came by, dude. He just left like an hour ago."
Jeff swears colorfully enough that it relieves the tension of Steve's shoulders when he laughs. "That motherfucker lied to me, he said he was coming by for dinner."
"He probably knew you were gonna warn me," Steve grins as quiet sounds of plates and cupboards echo out from the kitchen. "Why are you even warning me anyways? I mean I know I backtracked but it was pretty neat of him to try helping out anyways.
"'Pretty neat' he says. God, Harrington, you're such a dad," Jeff teases and it's one of those rare times the joke makes Steve laugh without shame.
Out of everyone in Steve's life, Jeff is one of few who don't make Steve feel so bad about wanting a big family ("Platonic soulmates excluded, of course, right?"). Maybe it's because he gets it, especially after Trey had moved out so quickly. He gets how a house can be lonely without a bunch of family filling up the space.
Jeff hesitates. "Like I said, I know you wanted some alone time today." His voice softens to a murmur and Steve can't help but run a hand through his hair, fidgeting with a lock at the back of his neck. It's getting so long now. It makes him think of Eddie's nape, warm and so pale against the black of his hair but still so alive. "You said you were gonna make a move."
"I -" Steve blows out a breath, cupping his own neck and staring out the window into the greenery outside. The sunlight really does make everything look so much warmer. Alive. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Today, actually."
"That's great!" Jeff whispers excitedly and Steve just laughs again. "Shit, okay, I should let you get back to it then. I'll phone Wayne for your check-in too, good luck man!"
"Thanks, Jeff. That...means a lot." Steve smiles. "Talk to you later."
Setting the phone against the wall ("You think you're so fancy with your wall phone, Harrington?! ...Yeah, you are, it's pretty cool actually. Should we crank call Hopper or would that be like, a crime?") feels like a weight's been lifted off his shoulders. Alive, safe, well.
The approval of Eddie's friends isn't exactly something he'd expected to want or to get really, but they keep surprising him. Even Wayne's been really supportive of Steve in general, always trusting him to take care of their people, even if he does ask everyone to check-in with him whenever Eddie visits. Sometimes the paranoia doesn't lift up and Steve definitely isn't going to give the man grief about it when he understands.
With a nod, Steve turns back to the kitchen and stops when he sees Eddie, who quickly stumbles back on the kitchen door when he tries hiding.
"Ow." Eddie rubs his elbow with a wince. He quickly hops along the wall to get to the sun room. "Pay no attention to the man behind - uh - out of the kitchen?"
"Eddie," Steve laughs as he follows, the panic of hurt, he's hurt, find him, bring him home, keep him safe fading away. "Eddie, wait, what were you even -"
"Upupup!" Eddie plugs his fingers into his ears and starts chanting. Steve has to lunge when he almost bangs his hip against the doorframe to pull him to the side instead. With a groan, Eddie hides his face in his hands. "Can we pretend none of that happened and that I was on my way to get my guitar without eavesdropping?"
"Nope," Steve says cheerfully, dragging Eddie along by hooking an arm over his shoulder. "I'm gonna be using that for weeks."
"Well excuuuuse me," Eddie squints, dropping down to pick up his guitar and sling it over one shoulder. "If I just wanna know why Jeff would be calling right after a house call from Frankie. You planning something I don't know about?"
"Don't worry your pretty little head about it. It's just some new tracks," Steve pats his shoulder and saunters his way to the stairs. "Now come on, you promised me a show."
It's silent, no footsteps, no quip, so Steve turns back just in case.
"Huwha?"
Yup, same flushed cheeks. Looks like his plan is working perfectly. Steve smiles, turns back around and makes his way up the staircase. It's almost time for the final step - actually fucking saying something.
He's got this. Right? ("Right.")
"So," Steve starts as they walk into his bedroom ("Keep your cool, keep it together, do not fuck this up - but also no pressure, this is a big step -"). "What exactly were you gonna show me anyways? All you said was a melody and -"
"Upupup," Eddie says, placing his hands on Steve's shoulders and walking him back towards his bed, where he ends up tripping on to. "Woah, shit! You okay?"
Shaking his head, Steve just laughs. The giddiness has finally cracked open in his chest, all his feelings floating up like - like they're in his blood, pouring out of him. "All good. You're that excited, huh?"
"Don't think you can trick me," Eddie pokes a finger at Steve's forehead, both hands coming down to rest at Steve's shoulders as he lightly shakes him. "This is very important, Harrington, no distractions or interruptions, alright?"
Steve lets his hands glide back behind him on the bed, leaning back on them and tilting his head. With a soft smile (practiced and well-worn with the amount of times he's used it for Robin, Max, Dustin, Erica, Eddie), he leans on his hands behind him, watching Eddie's cheeks turn pink in real time. "Alright. Impress me, Munson."
It takes a second, Eddie fumbling with his guitar and his jacket, his eyes flickering back to Steve before snapping away, but eventually he spins around and sits on the floor, leaning against the bed. Without the leather (a gift from Dustin, with Mike and Steve's help, that made Eddie cry that day, no matter how much he denies it), he looks smaller. His white shirt isn't thick enough, lets Steve see the skin underneath, the wounds and scars.
With a sigh, Steve brushes a hand along Eddie's shoulder, lets the warmth sink in -
"Woah!" Eddie chokes, twitching in place, shaking Steve's hand off. "I said no interruptions, my good sir!"
"Sorry," Steve says genuinely, totally went a bit far there, that's fair. He clears his throat and shuffles to lie down along the bed instead, careful not to hit Eddie with his feet ("You've gotten enough concussions for all of us, so it's my job to make sure it doesn't happen again, as your best friend and soulmate because I am not losing you.") and settles on his side. "Go ahead, I'm listening."
Eddie takes a deep breath, readjusts his guitar, tunes it, strumming and adjusting and tuning and looping over and over - "Okay, uh, could you like - uh, not like, stare at me? I mean, not - I'm just - uh, nervous I guess."
With a blink, Steve says, "'Course, man. Take your time," and reshuffles so he's staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars he put up with Dustin are still up there. They don't glow that much but he thinks they're bright enough for him.
"Thanks," Eddie murmurs and clears his throat. With one final deep breath, he starts playing and...
It's good. It's great actually. Steve doesn't know much about music ("You're surrounded by musicians! You play music when you - you know, do the thing! I bet you know way more than you think."), but the melody is slower than he expected, less head-banging and more...just looking at his stars.
He lets his head turn so he can watch Eddie play, the little bun of hair pulled up higher than when he tied it up. It isn't anything special, but it makes the cracked-open glow in Steve's chest burn brighter, melt out of his ribcage like some kind of radioactive goop that he doesn't bother scooping back inside. Not when it feels like this.
The sunlight is dimmer now, but it shines over Steve's legs onto the back of Eddie, casting a shadow on the bedroom floor.
With that thought, the melody ends and Eddie turns a little in his spot to stare at Steve. He looks nervous, the light outside keeping him bright and Steve can't look away. "So, uh, what - what'd ya think?"
It isn't that easy, describing music. Usually Steve sticks to whatever makes him feel good, sometimes just whatever makes him feel in general. But this felt -
"That was amazing, Eddie." The words taste awkward on his tongue but it's blown away by the delight in Eddie's face.
"Yeah?! Yeah, I wanted to try something different, after everything, y'know, so I figured, well the world almost ended, maybe going easy for once wouldn't hurt and -"
He goes on. He goes on and smiles at Steve and the sunlight surrounds them and he can't take it anymore.
Sitting up and smoothly shifting back onto the bed, Steve leans over and reaches out. When his hand cups Eddie's jaw, the rambling stops. He stares down, Eddie stares up, the sunlight reaching out between them, and Steve lets out a soft chuckle.
"You're amazing," Steve says, bringing over his other hand so he's gently holding Eddie's face. He doesn't know what he looks like but he knows that in this moment, Eddie is stunning. Big wide eyes, pink flush and a shadow over his face -
Knock knock knock.
"Oh, you are fucking with me -" Steve shouts, leaping off to the other side of the bed to see - "Gareth?!"
"Open - the - window -" The scrawny asshole mouths up at him through the window, one hand wobbling on the frame. Steve has a quick, ruthless thought of pulling the blinds down but it'll never be more than a thought. With a sigh, he opens the window and reaches out, helping Gareth climb through. "Holy shit, that was so scary. How the hell did you do this every night?"
"I -" Steve sputters, shutting the window behind him. "I did not climb through people's windows every night! Just - like, on the occasion! Shut up, what are you even doing here?"
"Okay, so remember when you told me about -"
"Nope!"
Steve and Gareth jump, looking over to find a fuming Eddie, his guitar strewn on the bed and his expression manic.
"Nope, we're not doing this, actually, thanks Gary," Eddie says brightly, grabbing Gareth by the scruff of his shirt and dragging him out of the bedroom. "I'm sure whatever movie or album or debate or whatever you just couldn't wait to talk to Steve about, it actually can and will fucking wait!"
He shuts the door behind the poor kid before spinning around and stomping over to the window, where he pulls the blinds shut so they're left in shadows. Steve stares as Eddie breathes heavily, his shoulders hunched up and hair lifting up and down and -
Then Eddie spins around again, grabbing Steve by the shoulders and staring straight into his eyes.
Steve blinks.
"Listen up, Harrington," Eddie spits out, his glare vividly stuck on Steve's face. "You and I both know this little meet up wasn't just some meet up and I have no fucking clue why my band keeps interrupting us, but I'm going to fucking explode if I don't kiss you right here, right now after a whole fucking day of just - just you."
Steve blinks twice.
Eddie's breathing is still heavy but not harmful, his eyes wide and harsh on Steve's, so dark without the sun, so deep and obscure. His hair is still in the bun, messed up and frazzled as it is, a few curls coming down to brush against his cheek.
He really does light something up in Steve.
"Harrington, I swear -"
"Kiss me," Steve says and -
And he does.
And it's amazing.
Eddie mashes their faces together, knocking Steve's teeth with his own, bumping their noses, gripping Steve's shoulder too tightly.
It's everything.
Steve sighs into the kiss, running a hand up to Eddie's jaw, letting the other coax around Eddie's back and pull him in closer.
It's Eddie.
"Guys?"
With the very audible sound of skin on skin, Steve pulls away, heart fluttering when Eddie sighs and the breath touches his lips. He opens his eyes and stares at Steve, who rests his forehead against his.
Giggling, he shyly says, "Hi."
Steve grins, closing his eyes briefly to nuzzle their noses together. "Hey."
"Sooo," Eddie giggles again. "That was nice."
"Very nice," Steve hums. He strokes a thumb over Eddie's cheek, feeling the heat of the pink against it. "We should do it again."
"Yeah? Yeah, I think so too." Eddie leans in -
"Guys? What's happening?!"
"Gareth, I swear to GOD I am killing off your character," Eddie yells at the door, his arms wrapping around Steve's neck heatedly. It feels amazing. "In fact, I'm killing off all of your characters after the stunts you guys pulled today!"
"Wha - what did we do?! Wait, what did I do?"
"He's right," Steve leans closer, nuzzling Eddie's hair. "They were just trying to -"
"Oh no," Eddie half-heartedly smacks his chest, cheeks still a pretty, pretty pink. "Don't defend them, not when you're the one that used your weird charm on my friends and made them all 'Ooh, Steve this, Steve that' while I was trying not to think about your ass for the fifth time every goddamn day!"
Blinking, Steve smirks. "Think about my ass often, Munson?"
"Shut the fuck up," Eddie glares. "And get back here."
Lucky him, Steve doesn't think he'd want anything else.
if anyone else had wanted to be tagged but wasn't or if i accidentally tagged someone wrongly, my apologies
tag list: @ramyayaya @alienace @5pac3g1r7 @emly03 @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @maya-custodios-dionach @elliegrey2803 @bejeweledbaby @blanketlicker @messrs-weasley @estrellami-1 @stillfullofshit
#sailor✧writes#steddie#sailing✧harrington charms hellfire#writing#fanfic#au content#corroded coffin#hellfire club#HERE WE GO#THE DOOZY IS DONE
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hehe i am actually the teacher jihoon anon and also the ceo jihoon anon!!! i guess i am career woozi anon now 🤔 but i just wanted to say thank you for making my thoughts come into reality!! thank you for writing them and i’m glad i could help you get out of a lil writing rut with the teacher idea <3
but 👀 since we are on the topic of jihoon… i recently got his fts carat vers album and in the pcs there is one of him with one of his feet on like something a little bit smaller than a table… if that makes sense, ever since i got it i can’t stop thinking about ceo jihoon or just jihoon fucking you in a similar position 😵💫 after you purposely make him jealous too or wear something revealing… phew. i hope i described the position well enough? but i’m sure u can look at the pcs! hehe just some jihoon brainrot i hope i can dump my thoughts in ur inbox 🤲🏻
first off hi im so sorry this took so long (im always saying that but i do feel bad that im such a mess) but i didn't realize you're the same anon haha! i love it sm thank you for all of your requests <<33
secondly so i actually can't find the pc you're talking about 😭😭 i feel so bad and i can't tell if im imagining the position well but i love the idea of jealous ceo jihoon so i hope this suffices (if not maybe send me an ask with the pc and i'll see what i can do?)
pt. 1
[minors dni]
it's been a few weeks since the encounter between you and jihoon in his office and thought it seems like jihoon has stopped his mistreatment towards you, he hasn't alluded to that day at all
he's nothing but proper around you; formal greetings in the morning, considering your ideas in meetings, praising the work you turn in. it's strange and you almost wish he would go back to degrading you every second, at least then you knew he acknowledged you, it's almost like you don't exist anymore
you tell yourself he probably regrets it. he's your ceo for goodness sakes, of course he regrets it. you hate yourself for caring so much because you know jihoon is nothing but a up tight, rude man who thinks of only himself first. the thing is you thought that just maybe it meant something, the other day in his office. he literally called you his favorite how can that not mean something?
well if he's not going to care about you, then you're not going to care about him. it's not like it would have gone anywhere anyways, jihoon isn't worth your worries
"y/n!" you look at the call of your voice to see kwon soonyoung approaching your desk. you like soonyoung, he's upbeat and nice and has always backed you when jihoon was too harsh
"hi soonyoung. how can i help you?"
"would you mind if i ate lunch with you today? it just feels like it's been a while since we've caught up"
"no i wouldn't mind at all" you smile up at the man and he grins happily back at you
soonyoung takes a seat at your desk and pulls his lunch out. you two start a conversation about your lives outside of work. you listen to soonyoung talk about his secondary job as an afternoon choreographer at a dance studio and you can't help but get lost in his stories about his students. you can tell he has a passion for what he does and loves the students he works with
eventually the conversation switches over to you and you're telling soonyoung your own stories when you hear your name shouted across the office
"y/n l/n! my office. now." you look over to see jihoon standing by the elevator, an angry look on his face. soonyoung gives you a worried glance and you quietly excuse yourself before scurrying over to the elevator
jihoon doesn't speak as you two ride up to his office. he doesn't say a single thing until you two are inside his office, the doors shut and locked
"you really do know how to get someone's attention, don't you?"
"i don't know what you're talking about, sir"
"you and kwon soonyoung. don't think i didn't notice the way he was all over you"
"he was just being friendly"
"is that what wanting to get into someone's pants is called these days?"
"jihoon i don't understand what the problem is here. soonyoung and i are friends. it was just lunch"
"the problem is you belong to me" jihoon grabs your face and forces you to look directly at him "you got that?"
you're feeling bold so you spit out "you've barely acknowledge me for the past two weeks"
"so you go and throw yourself at someone else? i didn't take you for a slut, mx. l/n"
"i- that's not- jihoon-"
"do you not want to belong to me?" he's asking permission. in his own fucked up, power hungry way, he's asking permission
you take a big gulp before answering "i- i do, sir"
"that's what i thought. be good now"
with a hand still cupping your face jihoon pulls you into a rough kiss. your lips are messy as they press against each other, desire running through your body
jihoon's hand slides down your neck and to your shirt where he starts to unbutton your shirt. his fingers are nimble and soon your bare skin is exposed to the room. his hands run over your torso, his fingers cold against your warm skin, and you shiver. you feel jihoon smirk at that before his fingers breech the waistband of your pants
his fingers trail against your skin and you gasp into his mouth when his hand plunges deep and cups you over your most sensitive parts. you whine a bit and buck into his hand
"so needy" jihoon tuts
his fingers push back further until his digits trace around your entrance, teasing you
"jihoon please" you beg
"please what?"
"please fuck me. i need it. i need you"
"that's what i like to hear"
jihoon pulls his hands out of your pants and quickly unbuttons them and pulls them down along with your underwear. there's a coffee table sitting in the corner of his office and he points to it
"bend over"
you quickly follow orders, rushing to bend over the table for him, not wanting to prolong him not being inside of you any longer. you feel a big embarassed with your whole ass exposed to the room, wantonly waiting as jihoon takes his time to walk over to you
you hear his own pants drop to the floor before he squirts some lube onto his fingers and shoves them inside of you. you jolt and moan as he fingers you open. he doesn't keep his fingers inside of you for long though, because soon he's pulling them up and grabing your hips to pull them up to meet his cock
without much warning he thrusts into you and you have to bite down on your lower lip to keep your screams in. you breathing gets choppy as jihoon pistons into you, pounding into you fast and hard
his cock is heavy and large and feels even better than his fingers did the last time jihoon touched you
it doesn't take long for you body to start to feel heavy with pleasure, your mind fuzzy with the only thought floating through you head being jihoon jihoon jihoon
jihoon props his leg up onto the table and pulls yours hips into his and you whine at the way his cock digs into your sweet spot at this angle
"only i get you like this, got it? you're my pretty little thing and no one else's. especially not kwon soonyoung's"
"fuck jihoon, only you. no one else makes me feel this good. promise"
"say it again"
"only you jihoon. i'm yours"
"yes, that's it. so good for me"
one of jihoon's hands reaches around to rub at where you ache the most for his touch
"so tight y/n" jihoon grunts "not gonna last much longer"
"sir please cum in me, please"
your words and the breathlessness of your tone is all it takes for jihoon to spill over, filling you full of his seed
your own release comes quickly after as jihoon presses a kiss to your neck, the press of his warm lips against your neck sending you over the edge. you shake in jihoon's grip as your insides pulse around jihoon's cock
you're panting as jihoon pulls out of you. he grabs a tissue off of the coffee table to wipe you both off
you both get dressed again and for a second you're both awkwardly standing around until you turn to leave
"y/n wait" jihoon grabs your arm "i- uhm, i'm sorry...if i came off too strong earlier. i've uh, never done something like this before so-"
"it's okay jihoon, i get it. don't worry. i won't tell anyone either, if that's what you're worried about"
"no! that's not it i just-" you don't think you've ever seen your boss so distressed before "would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
oh. that's not what you were expecting at all
"oh! uhm. y-yes, i'd like that a lot" you can feel your face heat up with your fluster
"good. well uhm. i'll see you tonight" jihoon stands there for a moment like he doesn't know what to do before he quickly leans in to press a kiss to your cheek and then he turns and walks over to his desk like he didn't just do that
you smile to yourself as you head out of jihoon's office, giddy for what's to come later
#rru.requests#lee jihoon#woozi#woozi fanfic#woozi smut#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#woozi drabble#woozi x reader#svt woozi#woozi x gn reader#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen drabble#seventeen smut#gn reader#gn reader smut#seventeen x gn reader#rru.fics#rru.writes#★ mdni
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hello!! any chance we could get something steddie X reader ? idk what but something good and comforting (or even angst + comfort) for the soul because it's fucking emo hours in the real world and I hate it here lmao. if not, that's all good. thank you for your time 💞
ill and idle talk
A/N: um absofuckinglutely i will, i wrote this at 1:30 am after sobbing for a good 20. annd i’ve been thinking about them ALL week so here u go, nonnie. they are so pretty, i love our boyfriends <3
Pairings: Steve Harrington x GN!Reader, Eddie Munson x GN!Reader
Summary: Your boys never want you to be scared of telling them anything. But sometimes, it’s fated. 2.5k words.
Warnings: fluff, cursing, hurt/comfort, sickness, very very minor angst/worry, taking medicine (pill form), nakedness/bathing, pet names (sunshine, bug, baby, honey, sweets), cuddling, kissing
Phlegm's a bitch. You know that now, and your nostril has been clogged since yesterday. Which means you tossed and turned through the chilled night, shivering and sniffling and hacking up whatever dripped down your throat. You felt kind of gross. Curled in on yourself and flip-flopping between overheating and freezing, which was frustrating enough without the phone's constant shrill ringing.
But you can't take the lecture right now. Not in the hallowed halls of your childhood home. Not standing on wobbly feet that are numb with frost. You'd rather keep the lights off and duck under your pillow. Then the phone stopped. And silence coaxed you in, a little staticky as the absence of screeching settled into the dry wall of the empty house.
But only once the smoke had cleared did a spark finally catch, fist pounding on the door.
"You alive in there, sunshine?"
That's who you were worried about. Tucked in his favorite sweater, pushing a hand through his floppy hair, frowning over nothing was Steve. Fretting and fussing like he's not barely twenty and stress sweating over it. You roll over, nudging deeper into your thick comforter, tucking it around your shoulders with a sigh.
"Spare key," you grumble, loud enough muffled behind linens, but he already had it pinched between his fingers before he got out of his beamer. A gust of cool air rushes in behind him, so he slams the front door and shuffles down the hall to your creaking bedroom, kneeling beside your bed and tilting his head.
Reluctantly, and only after he brushes his fingers across your forehead, you open your eyes to his worry. Staring between his furrowed brows and the soft pink tint below his droopy eyes.
"You're burning up," he huffs, "lemme run you a bath."
But you won't have it, burying your damp face into your mountainous hoard of cotton sheets and down pillows because at least it's warm. Where he's standing, the light is blinding and cold air lingers like fog up from the carpet.
"Come on, please, you been stewing in here for a day and a half. You're not getting any better, and we miss you," he coos, running the tips of two fingers down the exposed slope of your shoulder, fiddling with the thick strap of your tank top and sighing.
"Alright... well, can I at least make you something to eat? Maybe soup or a nice afternoon breakfast?"
"Don't want it," you grumble.
"How 'bout a glass of water?"
"Nuh-uh."
He drops his head, a little defeated by your stubbornness and hating what it'll make him do. But you're satisfied and smiling at the return of softened silence. Like butter left out in the summer time, melting from the inside out, smooth across the scratchy surface of toast, messy in its little porcelain dish.
"Sweetheart," he coos, "you gotta get up. Or I'm gonna call him, and you're not gonna like it—"
"Leave me alone, Steve. I'm fine."
Oh, but now he's not feeling very nice. In fact, his cheeks burn a little because you've bested him. Even if you're not fine, it's not fair how much he cares about you only for you to disregard yourself like nothing.
"No. I came all the way over here for you, and—you had me worried sick, baby, I'm serious, I thought something really bad happened—"
"I didn't ask you to," you pant.
"Ouch," he huffs, "but a lot of the things I do without you having to ask are because I care about you"—there's a soft shuffling as he crosses the room, tip toeing to dodge crumpled tissues and water bottles on the way to your landline. You hear it ring, the handheld little speaker whirring and buzzing from where he stands with a hand perched on his hip—"Definitely a fever. Been bundled up since Wednesday... I know... that's what I said... up to you... m'kay... okay. We'll see you in a bit, then. Alright. Love you."
"Don't want any trouble, Stevie," you whisper, and he sighs, feeling his shoulders hunch forward. Because he knows from the hitch in your breath that you're about to cry.
"You're not in trouble, honey, it's just..."—he turns with a hand carding through his soft and brown hair, but he can't bring himself to your eyes and the way you sniffle under the covers—"you know how much I love you, but if I can't get you to eat somethin', then I'm gonna need backup."
Steve's light-footed back to you. Seated against your bent knees, knuckles in-line along the warmth of your bundled thigh. He deflates deeper; he looks so tired, and your heart wenches at his sudden mindlessness. Sweeping through the motions with only a backdrop of feeling. His back curls like a cat when he leans down, cool breath fanning across your temple to kiss your cheek. You rustle from underneath, jutting your chin out and puckering your lips. He beams down at you, and though the smile doesn't reach his eyes, he still looks soft and happy. And he kisses you.
He kisses you like the rest of it doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that you're sweating into his palm and squirming to kiss him deeper. Or that you're still stubborn while giggling against his cold mouth.
"Shh, 'm tryin' to kiss you, sunshine," he hums.
"Shit!" You shriek and weasel your hand out to push his chest Away. He rears back with eyes wide.
"What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
"No, no, but..."
"... But what? Don't leave me hangin'," he teases, leaning down again, but you squirm and curl your fingers into his sweater's loose collar.
"You're gonna get sick, that's what!" you chirp, "You're gonna catch my fever, and then we'll have to bundle you up, too—"
"It's a little late for that, don'tcha think?"
You squint up at him, fingertips still hanging from his cableknit, weighing his neck down more than pushing him away. Drawing him closer in a weak attempt to preserve his fragile health. But it's all in vain when his nose bumps yours, and he cups your jaw and tilts your head back so he can kiss you like he missed you. Because he was all pacing by the phone for days, forgetful and manic during car rides with Eddie, and when it started to drizzle this morning, he couldn't find it in himself to feel comforted when he knew something was missing.
"There you are," Eddie hoots, locking the front door behind him and toeing his boots off by the welcome mat. He jogs down the hall, unsheathing two palm-sized bottles from the pockets of his slick leather jacket. "Sorry I barged in. Door was unlocked."
You nod deeper into your pillow. As Eddie presses a kiss to Steve's temple, his ringed knuckles go soft along your temple.
"Looks like someone's got the flu," he says, sitting cross-legged on the floor, chain jangling against his thigh, and he scoots closer, "how're you feelin', bug? Brought you Vicks and some acetamino-whatever." He taps the edge of the small pill bottle against his palm, holding a white oval in between his thumb and forefinger. Steve lifts the glass of water to your clammed up hand, and you quickly swallow the pill down with a gulp.
"Oh, so you'll listen to him but not me," Steve teases, palming your side as you sit up and rest your head on his shoulder. You chuckle and nudge at his jugular with the bridge of your nose.
"How can you say no to those eyes?"
Eddie laughs and pats Steve's thigh.
"Fair enough," he huffs. Eddie snaps the light blue hairband from Steve's wrist, tying his wild hair back and tossing his heavy jacket over the foot of your bed.
"Alright, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up, okay?"
You hum and let Eddie tuck his arm across your back to help you stand. And Steve thinks Eddie has always been good at that. At convincing both of you. He never liked metal or hard rock until Eddie asked him to one of his gigs. He was goo-goo-eyed the whole set, knowing he'd fall for any of Eddie's cons again and again.
Steve's thick sleeves bunch around his elbows, fingertips skimming the soapy and shallow water climbing the sides of the white porcelain tub, rippling out from the faucet in guttural waves, and slapping up against the edges. Eddie has you perched half-naked on the toilet seat, thumbing the minty, slimy gel over your chest, paying sweet attention to the base of your neck as you lean into his touch.
"Should be warm enough," Steve says, cranking the handle until the nozzle runs dry. And when you look at him with lazily hooded eyes, he looks so pretty. The steam licks at his chin, curling up around his cheeks and dashing smile. It threads into his hair, makes it damp until it goes a little flat.
"Thank you, Steve," Eddie coos. He stands with one hand slotting fingers with yours, pushing the other through Steve's hair, slicking it back through no purpose of his own besides tilting his head back to give him a wet kiss.
You finally breathe easy, sliding down into the bath, thick slabs of bubble creeping up your calves. They sit watching you like predators, glancing across the way at each other as Eddie slumps mirror to Steve, sat back on his haunches and arm laid across the edge of the tub. Except, maybe less like predators and more like they care. More like Steve cupping the hot water in his palm and pouring it down your back. And he does it again when you sigh.
"Feelin' better, sunshine?"
But you just tuck your chin, eucalyptus and lavender coiling along your upper lip, and you wipe the snot from your nose with the back of your hand.
"Gross," you whisper, fingers wiggling beneath the short tide. Steve blinks, head swiveling to face Eddie who shrugs. His brows furrow, and he kicks at Eddie's thigh with a pointed frown.
"Hey," Eddie mumbles, glaring at Steve before going soft and catching a bead of sweat from your neck on his forefinger, "talk to us. What's goin' on?"
"Nothin'," you say.
"Nothin'? Really?"
"Mhm. Just... takin' a bath... with you two watching me," you sigh.
"Oh, well, we don't have to watch you, honey, we can wait for you out there," Steve says, insides flooding with concern and washing out his rosy cheeks, embarrassed and scrambling when you groan.
"It's fine."
"Doesn't sound fine to me," Eddie says.
"Oh, now you're listening?"
Steve flinches. "Woah, woah, hey, what's with the third degree?"
You open your mouth to speak, and when you look over, your eyes are red and tears roll down your wet cheeks. They're both stuck. Unmoving, stunned into silence with their hearts crashing to their stomach like thickly swallowed lead and sharp rocks. Refusing to settle and weighing them down. Only, with your eyes on Steve, he feels like he's on fire, blushing and hurt and a little fringed around the edges.
"You know, there's a reason I didn't take any calls or reach out," you sigh, breaking in your throat and hacking into your forearm, "It's not 'cause I didn't wanna talk to or see you two, alright? Because I did. And I do. But I don't need either of you to take care of me. I don't need to know you've seen me at my worst. I don't want to have forced you into caring about me. Well, too late, right?"
You turn to face the tiled wall, tracing your fingertip along the dip of grout between each one. All while Eddie goes to squeeze Steve's palm with a deep breath. Because he looks like he wants to die. Like it might be good to shrivel up if he's made you feel that way. Curling in on himself, feeling the knob of each of Eddie's knuckles with his fingers.
"You didn't..." Eddie sighs, "you didn't force us into anything, sweetheart. And you never have to worry about what we think of you because we love you. No matter what, got it? Even coughing all over us with snot pourin' out of your nose. Doesn't matter, okay?" He chuckles.
And he reaches for you, stroking the curve of your shoulder to coax you out again. To make it feel more like comfort than being bombarded. Because that's never what they wanted. They knew how you felt about the three of you. How they soothed your fears when it felt impossible. But in the end it was easier, you realized, to love and be loved like that. To feel together despite the noise and ruckus.
You turn to face them again, mouth tugged to the side. And Steve feels lighter when your fingertips rasp against his collar and up the column of his throat. No more scraping weight and heft where he sits. Just reaching.
"I'm sorry," you whisper. And he slants over the side of the tub to kiss your jaw in precious time, letting you feel the draw he has in your direction. Always, especially now, tugging as much as you are guiding.
"Nothing to be sorry for," Steve whispers, "we just care about you. A lot. And there's not harm in that."
You nod and let them lift you from the tub and towel dry your shivering body. Let them carry you to the bed and dress you in sweats and a tee. Let them feed you bits of vegetable washed down with a mild broth. Belly full, limbs laid out on the newly changed sheets, grabbing for something you can't quite convince the tip of your tongue to dictate.
Until Steve coils into your side, chin rested on the crown of your head, his warmth like a sauna with his sweater draped over your headboard. You palm his hot chest when he wraps around you with a husky groan straight from the maw, muzzling himself in the crook of your jaw, laying selfish kisses there until the skin is raw.
Then Eddie pads across the floor, arms outstretched and rings shoved into his pocket. He plops down and shakes the whole bed frame, settling as the mattress bounces and Steve’s heavy head thuds back against your throat. You whine and hold the back of his skull.
“Jesus, sorry, sorry,” Eddie pants when Steve flips him off.
“Good thing I’m all cozy,” he says, “Next time you won’t be so lucky, Munson.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and peers down at you. A wavy tendril slips from his low and loose bun, and you tuck it behind his ear. So he smiles and leans close. Fingertips tracing your nose, cupid’s bow, lips, and he tugs at your lower lip so he can kiss you with svelte and yearning intent. And after you kiss him, too, he settles with a grin, pressing one more to the heel of Steve’s palm. To rest further into stillness. Unhurried waking and the dewy relentlessness of influenza.
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#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington fic#eddie munson fic#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#x gn!reader#x gn reader#fluff#steve harrington fluff#eddie munson fluff#steddie x reader#steddie x you#steddie fluff#stranger things#x reader#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x reader#*
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