#but I graduate in two months and I don’t want to regret it for the rest of my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andvys · 7 months

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 12

Warnings: angst, underage drinking, weed, mentions of other drugs, mentions of depression, slut shaming, attempted sexual assault, (reader being kissed, groped and being held forcefully), (she leaves before more can happen) if that makes you feel uncomfortable, you can stop reading this chapter after the moment with Eddie at his trailer!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary: You try to give dating a second chance and quickly come to regret it when you say yes to the wrong boy.

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: shoutout to my bestie @mysticmunson who always always helps me with the best ideas 🤍

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You feel like time is moving faster than usual. One moment it was the new year and now it’s already the end of march and every day pushes you closer and closer to the last day of high school. You can’t believe that it’s almost over.

You can’t believe how much has changed in the past six months.

Had someone told you that you would be graduating without him, a year back, you wouldn’t have believed them. It’s always been you and Steve. No matter how awful he was to you, how badly he treated you, it’s always been you two together.

You wanted to graduate with him, you wanted to go to college with him or even take a gap year and travel through the country with him – that was the plan.

But you will graduate without him and you will go to college without him and you will travel without him – he won’t be by your side, he won’t ever be by your side again and you have come to terms with it. You are okay with it, now.

“Hello?” Robin mumbles, waving her hand in front of your face.

Blinking, you quirk your brow and look at your friend.

“Huh?”

Robin chuckles at the confused look on your face, she sips on her coffee and scoots closer to you on the bench, reaching for a brownie in the brown paper bag between you two.

“What’s on your mind?”

You take a sip of your coffee and avoid looking into her eyes. You’re not about to tell her that you are thinking about your ex boyfriend.

She chews on her brownie and squints her eyes as she stares at you.

“Just that I’m going to graduate soon,” you chuckle and look at the lake in front of you. You and Robin decided to spend the afternoon by the lake after getting your favorite treats from the cafe downtown.

The sun is shining down on you, making your skin feel warm. The water is glistening and you cannot wait to jump into the lake when the weather gets even warmer.

“Yeah, it’s unfair how you and I just became friends and now you’re already leaving!”

You chuckle and nod at her words.

“You should have become friends with Eddie a long time ago!” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, playfully.

A smile tugs at your lips, “I agree.”

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.”

“You think?” You ask.

She nods, her eyes widen, “yeah, I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re super nice and chill but cheerleaders make me nervous and there’s no way I would have ever approached you!”

And that is why she hasn't hung out with you and your friends yet. Despite you telling her how nice they are, she is still too nervous to get to know them properly.

You can’t help but smirk at her, “why exactly do they make you feel nervous, Robin?”

She narrows her eyes, glaring at you, which makes you laugh.

You know that she is into girls, it’s something she has been worried about telling you, too afraid of your reaction. It also didn’t help that you had only known each other for a little while, she didn’t trust you at first but the more she got to know you, the more she realized that you aren’t like the other popular kids at school. You aren’t judgmental or rude or a bully – far from it. When she saw you standing up for Eddie in front of the whole cheer squad and the basketball team, she knew that you are a real friend, you risked your ‘queen’ status and your place in the popular crowd but you didn’t care.

She didn’t plan on telling you, she blurted it out after having one too many drinks and when she was sober again, she was afraid of your reaction, all the what if’s ran through her mind – what if you will hate her? What if you will out her to the whole school? What if you will laugh and make her the laughing stock of the town? What if you will be disgusted by her?

She was overthinking. You didn’t give her much of a reaction, in fact, you were chill as always and treated the subject of her sexuality like it was the most normal thing in the world when it definitely isn’t the most normal thing for other people. You went out for breakfast that day and you had asked her who the ‘lucky girl’ is when you found out about her crush, that’s all.

And since then, you have only gotten closer and closer.

She blushes at your question, there are two reasons why cheerleaders make her nervous – 1. They are popular and a little mean and 2. They are hot.

“You know why,” she mumbles and takes a sip of coffee again.

You giggle, “yeah, yeah. I get it, cheerleaders are hot.”

“Eddie thinks so too,” she smirks.

Now it’s your turn to glare at her, “shut up.”

“Oh come on! You tease me, I tease you back! That’s how friendships work, right?”

“Yes,” you say, “but there’s nothing to tease me about.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes, crossing her leg over the other, she leans back and looks up at the blue sky.

“I saw you two together, lying beneath the starry sky and running around like two teenagers in love,” she says, dreamily.

You know that she is talking about the bonfire last weekend.

Shaking your head, you chuckle at her words and roll your eyes.

“We’re just friends.”

“Friends who slap each other’s butts?”

“Exactly.”

She looks down and faces you again, studying your face with a curious look in her eyes. She purses her lips and tilts her head.

“Okay, seriously though, are you just friends or is there more between you two?” She asks, genuinely. Robin watches the way your brows furrow and the way confusion flashes in your eyes. For a split second, you look lost.

You hesitate.

“Yeah, just friends.”

She waits for you to continue, she can tell that you want to say more.

“But, it’s like, he’s a special friend, you know?”

Her eyes widen when she sees the flustered look on your face, she slaps your shoulder, “friends with benefits?” She gasps, loudly.

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as well, “no!” You almost scream, slapping her shoulder back, “you perv! Why is your mind going there?”

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Robin laughs, pushing your hand away. “You two are pretty touchy though so can you even blame me for asking that?”

No. No, you can’t blame her.

Robin has walked in on you cuddling with Eddie way too many times. He casually takes your hand and intertwines your fingers together. He kisses your forehead, your temple, your cheeks, your hands. He picks you up and drives you home. You sleep in each other’s beds and go on ‘friends’ dates. But, you are friends.

“I get what you mean,” you mumble. You know what your friendship with Eddie looks like to other people. Your mom thinks you’re dating and so does Steve’s mom and the rest of the town as it seems. “Eddie is very special to me and I love him but differently, not the way I loved him.” You shrug, looking down at your hands. You touch the rings that he gave you. “Things with Eddie just feel natural and good and I feel so safe with him, you know? I-I feel like he was a missing piece in my life because when he walked in, everything just felt better and it’s nice to know that he doesn’t expect anything from me, that what we have now, is enough.”

Robin’s eyes soften.

“We can just be together, you know?”

She smiles at your words.

“And us being so touchy is just,” you pause, looking for the right word. “Fun? I think we both craved the intimacy and the touch of another person. I never got it from Steve.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he always pushed me away. He hated cuddling, he never held me, he hated holding my hand. His kisses were rough and he always pushed me away after we had.. sex.”

She frowns. She isn’t surprised to hear about how awful he was to you but it upsets her, you deserve better.

“What a jerk.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was pretty messed up when he dumped me, I felt miserable and I was so fucking depressed. I shouldn’t have been, he treated me like shit but I still loved him and I still wanted him and if he came back right away, I would’ve definitely taken him back,” you snort, feeling embarrassed to admit that. “But Eddie came into my life and he was just there, he showed me that I didn’t need him. He showed me that friendships and finding other things that make you happy can be enough.”

Robin can tell that there is more behind your words. Nothing will ever replace the hole that someone you loved so much had left in your heart.

“Eddie makes me happy and I just love what we have. He is not like my other friends but he is not like a boyfriend either. I-I can’t explain it.”

Robin sighs but she smiles at you, “maybe you’re soulmates – platonic soulmates!”

You raise your brows and laugh.

“I’m sorry if you don’t believe in that stuff but I’m a total believer when it comes to soulmates and twin flames and whatnot.”

“Me too, Robin.”

“Cool,” she grins.

“Yeah, cool.” You laugh, wiggling your brows, “now we gotta find your platonic soulmate.”

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes, “they probably don’t exist.”

“Oh, I’m sure they exist,” you say, “I’m sure they’re around here. Maybe both of them are! Your platonic and romantic soulmate.” You smile.

“I don’t believe that,” she says, blushing.

“But I do. I got a sneaky feeling that you might find them both soon,” you say, not knowing that there is the actual truth behind your words.

You look at the lake in front of you, your mind tries to take you back to all your moments here with him but you force yourself to think of something else, someone else, anything that will stop you from thinking about him.

“Hey,” you nudge her shoulder, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You hesitate again, not knowing whether it’s worth bringing it up or not.

“So uh, last weekend, at the bonfire, this guy asked me out on a date. He called me earlier today and asked if I wanna go out with him tomorrow night but I said that I’m not sure, he sounded disappointed and told me to think about it and that he will wait for my call and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “he used to go to our school, his name is Ray.”

“Okay,” she says, slowly, “why are you not sure?”

You shrug, “I don’t know if I wanna go out with him.”

She wants to ask who you really want to go out with but she doesn’t.

“You’re not into him?” Robin asks, her blue eyes are filled with curiosity.

“I mean, he’s hot but I don’t really wanna date anyone right now and I don’t want to have sex.”

Robin scrunches her face up, looking a little confused.

“You don’t have to have sex with him and you don’t have to date him.”

“Yeah but they always want sex,” you mumble.

Disgust flashes in her eyes and she shudders, “do they?”

“Yeah, same with Steve.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean we have known each other our whole lives so maybe it’s not that serious when it comes to him but we had sex on our first date,” you pause, rolling your eyes, “and every girl I talk to tells me that every guy expects to get laid on a first date so..”

“Gross,” she says, sipping on her coffee.

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. A date can be fun, you can just get to know each other and see if you hit it off, you can laugh together and flirt, do something fun that doesn’t involve kissing or fucking! And a person who is looking for a partner or even just for a companion, won’t want to fuck on a first date,” she says without thinking about her words.

You don’t know why her words hurt, you don’t hang onto him anymore but to think that he never wanted to date you, that he only wanted to fuck you cuts you deep. Was that all you were good for, sex? Is that why he kept you around, so he could fuck you and take his frustrations out on you? Is that why it was so easy for him to dump you? When he found out that he could have both love & sex, he realized that you were no longer useful to him?

And it’s not just Steve who made you feel that way, there’s plenty of guys who have tried to get in your pants, before, during and after your relationship with him. Billy Hargrove has to be the worst of them all.

Her words lingered for the rest of the day, you know that she didn’t mean any harm but it brought back questions that you have always avoided to think about when you were still with him.

She didn’t notice the sad look in your eyes, too busy trying to convince you to go on a date and have some ‘innocent fun’. You agreed with her, maybe it’s what you really need, some innocent fun.

You went home after dropping her off, you cleaned your room and you took a long shower, contemplating whether to call or not call him. You tried reading a book but you kept looking at the telephone.

A part of you wanted to go on that date, the other part was just curious to see how it would all play out.

In the end, you called him and said yes to the date, he seemed excited and that put a smile on your face but you couldn’t help but feel the hesitation of going out with a guy you are not even that interested in. You had a weird feeling in your chest and in your stomach.

Something felt off, something felt wrong, very wrong.

But you were never good at listening to your gut.

You were good at overthinking though and your mind kept taking you back to him and you couldn’t stand it, you needed a distraction. That’s how you ended up here, on Eddie’s bed with a joint between your lips and a lazy smile on your face.

The room smells like weed, the cinnamon candle that you have put on his desk and him. The faint sound of some rock song fills the silence, surprisingly he keeps his music on the low today. Eddie is sitting on his chair, writing something in his notebook, something he won’t let you see. His brows are furrowed, lips tucked beneath his teeth, he looks concentrated.

“What are you writing, Eddie?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your knees, offering him the joint. Instead of taking it from your fingers, he leans closer to you and parts his lips.

You chuckle and place it between his lips.

He looks into your eyes, amusement flashes in them when he notices you biting your lip. He takes a drag and closes his eyes for a moment as he inhales. You watch him and remove the joint. You lick your lips, pulling away from him to place the joint in the ashtray on his nightstand.

Your mind feels hazy, maybe a little too hazy but this is exactly what you wanted.

Eddie blows the smoke into the air and leans back again, he studies your face. Right now, you look calm and relaxed but you looked tense and worried when you got here, he wonders why.

“So?” You ask, still waiting for an answer.

He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes shift away from you, he glances down at his noteback before his eyes meet yours again, “it’s a secret, sweetheart,” he winks.

“Eddie,” you whine, rolling your eyes, “I thought we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

You know it’s nothing serious so you don’t get upset, you could never be upset with him.

“It’s not exactly a secret, just something I don’t want to show you yet,” he says, smiling.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well then, I can relax,” you giggle and lie back again.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. He looks back down at his notebook, holding his pen tighter. He looks at the words on the white paper, tilting his head. His eyes flicker back and forth, looking at you and at the unfinished text.

You hum along to the song playing in the background, tapping your fingers against the mattress. You look around his room, eyeing every item as though it’s your first time in here. Your eyes get stuck on the handcuffs adorning the wall. A curious look takes over your face. You have asked him about them before and you felt slightly disappointed when you found out that those aren’t from him being arrested and running away, these are just handcuffs he stole from the equipment at the theater room in school.

You reach for the joint and take a long drag, letting the smoke invade your lungs slowly. You sit up, still eying the handcuffs.

Eddie wonders what you are thinking about. He puts the notebook down, propping his elbow against the table as he watches you, curiously.

“You know what I always wondered?”

“What?” He asks.

“What it’s like to be a criminal,” you say, giggling.

He raises his brows in surprise, clearly not expecting this.

“I kinda wanna know what it’s like to get arrested forcefully, being thrown to the ground and getting handcuffed like in those action movies,” you say as you tilt your head, “I wouldn’t mind getting arrested by Jim Hopper, he’s so hot,” you giggle.

Eddie can’t help but laugh. You aren’t just joking about being cuffed, you are genuinely curious and he is amused by it. An idea crosses his mind and it doesn’t take him long to get into action, he gets up and walks over to the handcuffs, taking them off the wall, he looks at you with a smirk on his face.

“You wanna know what it’s like to be cuffed?” He asks as he holds them in front of your face.

You eye the mischievous look in his eyes, knowing that he has something on his mind, something that has got to do with him cuffing you and you can’t help but feel excitement rushing through you.

You nod eagerly and it only makes him chuckle even more.

“You wanna feel like a little criminal and have a cop running after you?” He asks as he bends down, leaning closer to you until his face is directly in front of yours.

You nod.

“Good cop or bad cop?”

“Bad cop,” you say, biting your lip.

He chuckles darkly, he eyes you up and down before he leans closer, he brushes your hair back, his breath hits the exposed skin on your shoulder, his fingertips linger on your skin, “well then, you better run, sweetheart,” he whispers.

He pulls back and your eyes lock with his again, he is serious about this, you can tell by the look on his face.

For a moment, you are both silent, both waiting for the other to move. The music is still playing but the room is more silent than ever. Suddenly, Eddie lunges at you and a squeal falls from your lips, you manage to dodge his hands and jump back before he gets ahold of you. You put distance between you and him, crawling back and getting up on the other side of the bed.

“Ma’am you are under arrest!” Eddie says with a deep voice and a mean look on his face.

You laugh, loudly but Eddie doesn’t look amused at all.

“Put your hands behind your back!”

“What am I under arrest for, officer?” You ask, blinking innocently.

Eddie frowns, he steps around the bed, trying to get closer to you.

“That’s chief Munson to you, little lady,” he glares at you, still talking in a deep voice, “and you’re under arrest for being a bad girl.”

You raise your hand towards your lips and laugh. He tries to look mean but his eyes are filled with amusement. He steps even closer but before he can get too close, you get back on the bed and crawl over to the other side. Eddie instantly follows you. Your heartbeat picks up and you slam open the door before you run out into the hallway.

“Hey!”

You squeal when you hear him running after you.

“Get back here, you little shit!” Eddie yells, snorting when he trips over Wayne’s slippers.

You run into the living room, stopping behind the table by the couch. You are a giggling mess and Eddie thinks it’s cute, he can’t help but smile as he tries to keep the frown on his face.

“Please chief, don’t arrest me!” You say with a fake whiney voice, “I’ll be a good girl.”

Eddie smirks, “that’s how you talk to the chief?”

“Yeah,” you say, wiggling your brows.

The handcuffs in his hands jingle as he flicks them back and forth, walking closer and closer to you which makes you step closer to the couch.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself, just stay where you are,” he orders, giving you a pointed look.

“Or what?”

He quirks a brow, grinning at you, “or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Aw, I’m so scared.”

Eddie runs forward and reaches his hand out to grab you but you are quicker than him, laughing loudly when you run away again, bolting back to his room but you don’t expect him to catch you so quickly. Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around your waist, he hooks his leg around yours, bringing you down but making sure that you hit the carpet softly, a surprised gasp escapes your lips, in just under ten seconds he has you pinned beneath his body, holding you against the ground.

You struggle against him but he is stronger than you, he presses your front against the floor and holds your hands behind your back, he straddles you from behind as he puts the cold metal around your wrists, cuffing you.

“Got ya,” he whispers in your ear, chuckling.

“Eddie!” You whine, still struggling against him as you try to fight him off.

You can’t see him but you know that he has a smug look on his face.

“Y/n!” He mocks you.

He keeps holding you down, laughing at the way you are struggling and wiggling around. He smirks in satisfaction, “I wish I could take a picture of this,” he jokes as he stares at you and at the way you look beneath him with the handcuffs around your wrists.

“You perv!” You laugh.

Your movements cause your skirt to ride up a little and you don’t notice that you accidentally put your panties on display.

Eddie smirks, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up and the way his stomach flutters.

“Cute polka dot undies, babe. I bet Harrington busted in his pants when he saw these,” he chuckles, staring at your ass.

You are too high out of your mind to be embarrassed about anything, right now. You finally stop wiggling around, you crane your neck to the side, trying to look at him, “I usually didn’t wear any when we were together.”

He laughs in surprise, “okay slut,” he jokes causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, putting it back into place, he then looks away, clearing his throat, he gets up and adjusts his pants before he leans down, uncomfortably. Grabbing your waist, he picks you up, laughing at the way you squeal before he puts you back on your feet. He grabs the cuffs, “let’s get back in the cell, little criminal,” he whispers, pushing you through the hallway and back into his room.

You are still a giggling mess when he takes the cuffs off of you and puts them back on the wall. You plop down on the bed and lie down.

“Tell me, are you gonna wear these cute panties for Parker?” He teases you, narrowing his eyes to watch your reaction. Your eyes widen, you sit back up and straighten your back, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“W-What? How do you know?” You ask in confusion.

He chuckles, turning back to face you, he walks towards you, crouching down in front of you.

“Robin told me that you might want to go on a date with him, I kinda figured you would,” he shrugs.

Eddie hates the idea of you going out with him. Ray is a jock and from his experience, 99% of the jocks are complete assholes, disrespectful to girls and generally, awful human beings. You dated one before, you don’t need another one to hurt you but he isn’t about to tell you what to do or not do – he should have.

You blink, looking nervous all of the sudden, you look hesitant and that puts a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, taking your hands in his, trying to comfort you.

“I think I made a mistake,” you admit as all the happiness and amusement on your face vanishes, “I-I shouldn’t have said yes to the date.”

You look anxious and that makes him anxious too.

“I don’t think that I’m ready.”

His brown eyes soften, he grips your hands tighter. Eddie thinks that you will never be ready to date anyone else – Steve Harrington is the one and only for you. You may think that you have moved on but he knows that you haven’t, he can still see the love in your eyes when you look at him. You aren’t aware of it and neither is he.

Eddie clears his throat, trying to say something but you interrupt him. Pinching your nose, you shake your head.

“I-I don’t even want a boyfriend, right now – let alone another jock! I don’t want to fuck him either, what was I thinking?”

A part of him wants to encourage you to cancel the date, a huge part of him wants to do that, the part that is very protective of you but he doesn’t do it.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs as he sits down beside you, still holding your hand, “you don’t have to date him or fuck him. And a part of you must’ve wanted to go on that date, otherwise you wouldn’t have said yes, right?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

The truth is, you want to know what it’s like to go out with someone who wants you.

“I’m sure Robin told you that already but you can just go out and have fun, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If the date goes well then great but if he turns out to be an asshole then you can just give him the mean right hook you gave Billy and then you’ll call me, I’ll pick you up and kick his ass and then we’re gonna go to family video, rent some movies and binge on our favorite snacks.”

And just like that, the smile on your face returns and Eddie’s eyes light up.

“The campaign is tomorrow,” you point out.

He shrugs, “for you, I’ll cancel any campaign,” he winks and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

You smile and snuggle closer to him, “you’re the best, Eddie.”

“No, you are.” He kisses the top of your head and runs his fingers through your hair, “you know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna miss this if you get a boyfriend,” he admits when you both lie down and he pulls you on top of him, “shit, I got used to cuddling you, I need my little spoon.”

You giggle into his chest, “I need my big spoon too.” You place your palm on his chest, propping your chin on the top of your hand, you look into his eyes. “I’m not gonna have a boyfriend anytime soon but you might get a girlfriend,” you whisper, tapping his nose, making him smile.

“Nah,” he mumbles, scrunching his nose up, his eyes shift away for a second, “I don’t think so, I just wanna focus on my music and my friends,” he says, squeezing your waist.

You nod.

“I get that. I feel the same way, I just wanna focus on myself a-and be by myself.”

He smiles, he continues to play with your hair, watching you as you reach for his necklace, eyeing the guitar pick.

“We should just stay single together,” he jokes.

“I actually love the idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

“I’ll still kick Parker’s ass if you need me to,” Eddie says after a moment of silence, making you laugh again. “I hope that you will have a good time though, sweetheart.”

You hope so too.

You hoped so but at that time you did not know yet that the next night would end up a nightmare. That you would have tears streaming down your face, regretting that you had ever said yes to him.

It’s been a long time since you had been out on a date, you forgot what it’s like to feel the excitement but also the anxiety of going on a first date again. The not knowing of how the night will turn out made you a little nervous. You didn’t know what he had planned and where he would take you but you spent all day picking out an outfit, trying on all your dresses, all your skirts, combining your jeans with your favorite tops. You hated every option, every single outfit felt wrong, even your favorite clothes didn’t feel right on you – you should have taken that as a sign to cancel the date, you should have.

In the end, you settled for a blue sundress, pairing it with your favorite shoes and a denim jacket. You braided the front pieces of your hair and did your make up and finished it up with some pink gloss on your lips.

A part of you kept telling you to cancel the date, to call him and say that you had changed your mind but the other part kept telling you that the doubt and the awful feeling that had settled in the pit of your stomach was because you were overthinking things, because you weren’t ready to go out with someone else.

You sat on your bed and stared at the wall, bouncing your knee up and down as you fought a war in your mind, you had no time to change your mind though, the doorbell rang too soon for your liking.

You felt some of the tension leaving your body when he greeted you with his cute smile and your favorite flowers, you were surprised, you only briefly mentioned what flowers you love the most in your way too short conversation at the bonfire, last week.

He looked excited and that put your mind at ease, a little.

He was a gentleman, he opened the car door for you and asked you how your day had been, he easily made you laugh. There was no awkwardness in the air, none at all. For the first thirty minutes, you were still a little tense though, your heart was pounding, you were nervous but he was great.

The ice broke when The Cure started playing and you found something you have in common, you started talking about your favorite bands. You forgot how nervous you felt, you even forgot how wrong it had felt to go out with him, you forgot the weird feeling in your stomach, for a moment, you forgot everything. You shouldn’t have.

He was respectful and nice all night, he didn’t touch you the way you thought he would. The most he did was offer you his hand or put it on the small of your back. He didn’t put his hand on your thigh when you were at the movies, not the way Steve did on your first date. He didn’t try to kiss you during the movie, he didn’t try anything. He kept making you laugh and it was nice, he made you feel comfortable and that led to you letting your guard down.

For the first time, you had felt like a guy was genuinely interested in you.

After the movies, you went to get some drinks and things were going great, too great. The part that kept screaming at you all day was back and screaming even louder but you drowned that voice out and you focused on him and how interested he seemed in you.

Was luck on your side this time?

But every good moment has to end and now the moment has come and it brings you here.

You are walking down the sidewalk with your hand in his as you discuss the movie you saw earlier tonight.

“There is no way you still think that Halloween is better than Friday the 13th!”

“I do!” You shrug, giggling. “I think it’s the best movie.”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “I think you gotta see more movies.”

“Oh, I watch plenty of movies and I love horror but Halloween is still my favorite.”

“It’s hardly even a horror movie, honey.”

The pet name makes your smile falter a little.

“It’s good though.”

You stop in front of his car and you both turn to face each other, he places his hand on the roof of his car and you watch the way he eyes you up and down, the way his eyes linger on your chest, the way he licks his lips and smirks when his eyes meet yours again.

You have to crane your neck to look up at him, he is tall, even taller than Steve. His hair is dark blonde and his eyes are blue, he has a look in his eyes that Steve doesn’t have, you don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not. His hair falls in front of his eyes.

He is handsome but he isn’t him.

You feel shy beneath his gaze, something his demeanor has changed in the past few minutes.

“Tell me,” he says as he leans closer to you, “which girl are you in a horror movie, the one that gets killed having sex or the innocent little girl turning into a killer?”

Maybe that should have made you turn on your heel and run but instead, you giggle at his question with a confused look on your face.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Who are you? The jock that gets killed when the popular girl fucks him or the unassuming guy who turns out to be the slasher?”

He chuckles darkly, “why don’t you find out?” He jokes as he unlocks the car and opens the door for you.

You laugh, “sure, why not.”

The night is over and you can’t help but feel relieved, the date went great and you are happy about that, at least, you can go to bed knowing that there are guys who still just want to get to know you, without wanting something from you.

Eddie is one of those guys too, he just wants to be around you but he is just a friend, nothing more.

The small smile that lingered on your lips slowly disappears when he drives past the street that leads to your house. You glance at him, swallowing nervously.

“That’s not the way to my house.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you with a smile, “oh I know, the night isn’t over yet,” he winks and looks back, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and letting his other hand linger close to you.

There is nothing bad about what he said but you feel your heart dropping and a shiver running down your spine, still, you try to stay calm. You take a deep breath and look out the window, watching the passing trees.

This can still have a good ending, right?

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Everything okay?”

You force a smile on your face and nod, “mhm.”

He is making sure that you are okay, that must be a good sign, right?

The wooded area he was driving through, already gave you all the signs where he is taking you, you are still surprised when he parks the car at Lovers Lake.

“You’re not actually the unassuming slasher are you?” You joke when you stare at the dark lake in front of you.

He chuckles at your question, he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. You do the same, thinking that he wants to leave the car.

“Are we going skinny dipping?” You ask, laughing as you reach for the door handle but before you can open it, he reaches out, cupping your face with his large hands and pulling you into him, he smashes his lips against yours, catching you off guard a little.

Your heart beats faster and you gasp against him, you did not expect this. He pulls you even closer against him, kissing you desperately.

It feels wrong, so so wrong.

But you decide to try it out, to see what it’s like to kiss someone else. You place your hand on his cheek, you close your eyes and you kiss him back.

He hums in satisfaction, his thumb lingers on your cheekbone, his lips move softly against yours. It's nice, at first, but then it gets rougher and faster.

You can taste the coke and the rum on his lips, you can smell his expensive cologne on him, you can feel how rough he is and you can still feel how he’s pulling back, he wants more and it makes the pit in your stomach grow bigger.

Disappointment is all you feel now, of course it had to go this way.

His hands move down to your shoulders and he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, you can feel him smirking against you when you whimper – not from pleasure but from the discomfort of the forceful kiss, you don't know why you keep going, you don’t know why you keep kissing him when you can already tell where is he is trying to take this. He pushes your jacket down along with the straps of your dress and then he breaks the kiss, smirking at you when you gasp at the roughness of his hands as he pulls you closer against him, you can’t keep up with his quick movements. Before you can react, he pushes your hair back and buries his face in your neck, not wasting a second to start kissing and sucking on your neck, it hurts.

You scrunch your face up, hissing when you feel his teeth gracing your skin.

“Ray.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

You shudder in disgust and tilt your head, trying to move back, scooting away, only for him to pull you back. When you feel his hands gripping your sides tightly, you feel your stomach dropping, you freeze when you realize what this night is turning into.

“Stop it,” you warn him with a shaky voice, your heart is pounding in your chest and everything inside of you screams at you to get out of here.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as he suddenly grabs your thigh, trying to push his hand under your dress, “come on, don’t be such a prude, y/n. We both know you want this. I saw the way you looked at me.”

His words make you feel sick, the nausea rises up quickly and you feel like throwing up.

“No! Stop it, Ray!” You say louder as a mix of anger and fear rushes through you, “I don’t want this!”

The fear inside of you doesn’t know how to handle the situation but the anger does. You grab his hair and pull him away from you, ripping his hand away with your other hand.

“I said no, asshole!” You spit and slap him harshly across the face with the back of your hand, knowing that the rings that Eddie gave you will leave marks on his skin.

His eyes darken at your action, he clenches his jaw and his cheeks grow red, you see the anger and rage behind his eyes and it scares you. With shaky hands, you rip the door open and get out of the car. You need to get out of here, you need to get away from him.

Luck is never on your side.

You feel like a fool for thinking that he was just interested in you. Of course, he wanted more, of course he wanted this from you. What else could he possibly want from you?

You feel your heart in your throat and the regret and fear in you is so strong, you don’t know whether to scream or cry when you hear him getting out of his car. Your first instinct is to run but he grabs your waist and drags you back. You can’t even fight him off, he is much bigger and stronger than you are. He slams you against the car and pins your wrists against it, holding them tightly, too tightly.

“Let me go!” You yell, struggling against the grip he has around your wrists.

He shakes his head, laughing.

“I told you, I don’t want this! I don’t want to have sex with you so let me go or–”

“Or what?” He chuckles, “you’re not gonna do shit. You can’t tell me you didn’t wear this for me,” he says, tugging at your dress before he lets go of your wrist and grabs your face instead, “and the way you looked at me at the bonfire? You gave me those eyes, babe. I knew you wanted to be fucked.”

You shake your head, you press yourself against the car, desperately needing some distance between you and him.

“I didn’t, I thought you were nice.”

“Aw,” he pouts but even in the darkness, you can see the amusement in his eyes, “you thought I was nice? You thought I wanted to take you out on a cute little date, kiss you on your porch and ask you to be my girlfriend?”

No but you certainly didn’t want this. The guy he was earlier, is gone, he dropped the act and is now showing you the side you are afraid of.

“If I wanted a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have asked you out,” he says, chuckling, “you think I was interested in you?”

You don’t answer him, you just continue to stare at him.

“Jesus,” he sighs, “you’re so fucking dumb.”

Your lips part and your brows furrow, you feel like punching him but you also feel like crying, this is a nightmare.

“What would I want with a stupid little bitch like you?” He laughs and he finally lets go of you, taking a step back.

You feel relieved to no longer feel his hands on you but your heart is still pounding and you feel cold.

“I took you out and listened to the shit you were telling me about, the least you could do was let me fuck you after teasing me all night.”

You blink, staring at him in disbelief.

“Let me tell you something, y/n,” he says, tilting his head.

You should have walked away, you shouldn’t have let him speak, you shouldn’t have listened to him, you should’ve left.

But you stand frozen in place, you are blinking, your eyes are wet with tears.

“You are so fucking boring. You’re just a dumb little cheerleader with no fucking personality. The only good thing you have is your pretty face and your body – you should be thankful for that, by the way,” he says, pointing at you, “you’re a good fuck and that’s all you’ll ever be, that’s why Harrington dumped you, you’re not fucking interesting enough to keep around.”

Somehow, he knew which words he had to use to hurt you.

You know that you were never good enough for him, you know that he didn’t love you, you know that he turned away from you because he found something better, something real.

You feel like a fool for thinking that someone could want you for more than this.

Ray had voiced everything that has been on your mind already.

“Oh and that Munson guy you hang out with? He’ll drop you too the moment you spread your legs for him — that’s probably why he’s still around, he’s just waiting for you to whore yourself out to him.”

You want to scream at him, you want to hurt him back but you don’t feel the power to actually fight back.

You stare at him through your blurry vision, breathing heavily as you clench your fists. You can feel yourself wanting to cry but you would never give him the satisfaction and show him how hurt you are. You turn on your heel and walk away, pulling the strap of your dress and your jacket back in place.

“Where are you going?” He asks, making you scoff in disbelief.

You flip him off without looking back, “fuck you!”

You don’t know where to go, you don’t know how to get home from here, it’s too dark to even see anything but you would rather get lost in the woods than get back in his car. You choose to walk down the dark path, refusing to get back on the road where he will drive by.

You refuse to let the tears fall, you blink rapidly, tugging your jacket tighter around you as you strut through the woods. You feel disgusted and angry, you regret this, you regret everything.

You hate yourself for going out with him, you hate yourself for kissing him back, you hate yourself for letting his words get to you. You wipe away the tear that threatened to roll down your cheek.

You were doing so good. You were happy. You were content with the way things were going. Why did you have to say yes to the date? Why did you have to ruin everything? His words have triggered something inside of you, something you had tried to leave in the past.

That’s why Harrington dumped you. That’s why Harrington dumped you. That’s why Harrington dumped you.

I’m not in love with you anymore.

Did you really think that I meant that?

I didn’t, I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?

I mean, it wasn’t love.

Well, he wasn’t in love with her– I mean, he dated her because that was expected of him, right? She’s the popular cheerleader, the pretty rich girl, those have nothing in their brains and they’re pretty boring too so.. It was all just for show, I-I mean, do you really think he wanted her for her?

The voices in your head get louder and louder, overpowering the other. You can’t do this anymore, you can’t. You halt in your tracks, you put your hands over your ears, shaking your head.

A hand on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, startling you. A gasp falls from your lips and you jump back with wide eyes, only now realizing that you are not on the dark path any longer. The street lights illuminate the street ahead of you, you recognize the boat houses.

“Whoa, relax, girly. It’s just me.”

You press your palm against your chest and sigh, it takes you a moment to recognize the lanky guy in front of you.

Reefer Rick.

Eddie’s supplier.

“You scared me,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You relax as you continue to take deep breaths.

The smell of weed invades your space and you glance back at him, noticing the joint between his lips.

“Sorry, kid. What’re you doing out here by yourself?” He asks, smoking his joint.

“Walking.”

“Walking in a dress?”

You look down at yourself with a frown, “what’s wrong with walking in a dress?”

“Nothin’,” he laughs, clearly stoned out of his mind, “I wouldn’t want to walk in a dress.”

“Okay..”

He points to his house, “I’m throwing a party, wanna come inside? I got some new stuff to try out.”

New stuff – new drugs. You don’t take drugs, except for the occasional joints you smoke with Eddie but that’s all.

You should go home right now but the thought of being alone with your thoughts seems too much after the night you had and you want to forget, forget everything that happened.

You hesitate though, you promised Eddie that you would never go to one of Rick’s parties by yourself, he made you promise, claiming that he doesn’t trust the people that Rick surrounds himself with.

Normally, you wouldn’t do this but tonight, you don’t care about the promises that you have made. You need a drink or maybe even something stronger.

“Okay.”

After a long and exhausting campaign, Eddie wanted nothing more than to go home, call you to ask how the date had gone and then go straight into bed but he had promised Rick to drop by and pick up the new supplies.

He parks the car on the side of the road, sighing when he sees all the cars in his driveway, the people on his porch.

Eddie hates parties, especially Rick’s parties, too many crazy people in one house. He walks into the boathouse, wincing at the music – not at the volume but at the awful song choice. He looks around, looking for his supplier.

“Aye Munson!”

He perks up when he hears Rick’s voice, he cranes his neck, looking over a group of girls. He waves his hand in front of his face when someone blows smoke directly into his face as he makes his way over to him.

He is too tired for this tonight and quite frankly, he isn’t in the mood to be here. He wants to check on you. A weird feeling in his stomach had kept him from enjoying the night with the boys from hellfire tonight, it triggered a headache too.

“There you are!” Rick grins and throws his arm around Eddie, “how’s it going?”

“Good,” Eddie mumbles.

Over the loud music, he hears a girl’s giggle and he could swear it sounded like you.

“Listen uh, you got the stuff?” Eddie asks.

“You don’t wanna stick around?” Rick asks, frowning.

“Nah man, I’m tired. Maybe next time.”

Rick sighs, he runs his hand through his messy hair, sticking his joint back between his lips.

“Alright, I’ll get your stuff, wait here.”

Eddie nods. He puts his hands into his pockets, he looks around. A cloud of smoke hangs over the living room, the smell of weed and alcohol is heavy in the air. Most people here are strangers to Eddie, he wonders where Rick finds these people.

He looks over at the people dancing, snorting at the couple making out in the middle of the dance floor, the group of girls that are laughing and singing along to the music don’t seem to bother them as they continue to bump into them. He looks away but then his eyes catch sight of something that makes him freeze in his spot. He has to take a double look to make sure that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him.

Amongst the girls he had never seen, is you.

“What the hell,” Eddie mumbles, confused.

You have glitter on your face, your eyes are red, he can even tell from a distance. You are giggling loudly, letting one of the girls twirl you around as she holds your hand over your head.

You are either drunk or on drugs.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he mumbles through gritted teeth.

What are you doing here and where is your date?

He is not happy to see you here. This is not a good place.

Angrily, he stomps over to you, pushing past the people who are on the dancefloor next to you. He calls your name loudly and watches the way your bloodshot eyes widen when you see him. You pull away from the girls, stumbling on your feet, a little.

“Eddie!” You squeal and run towards him, throwing your arms around him. “What are you doing here!”

He smells the whiskey and the weed on you, right away and it pisses him off.

“What am I doing here?” He asks as he pushes you away from him, carefully. “What are you doing here?”

He watches the way your face drops, the way your lips set in a pout at the tone in his voice.

“I told you not to come here by yourself! Where is your date?” He asks, too angry to notice anything, too angry to notice the look in your eyes, too angry and worried to see the marks on the side of your neck or the red and purplish bruises around your wrists.

You fall into a ramble, giving him nothing but incoherent words. You blink rapidly, your voice is shaky, he doesn’t understand a single word and he can tell that you are starting to hyperventilate as the happiness and the bliss begins to fade away more and more.

He puts his arm around you and leads you out on the porch, where it’s more quiet, he sits you down on the steps and puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you need to calm down,” he says when your rambling causes you to breathe faster.

“I-I, yeah.” Is all you say as you rub your eyes, not caring about your make up.

“What did you take?” He asks, thinking that it’s the drugs that are messing with you.

“Just weed and w-whiskey,” you slur.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re here alone?”

You nod.

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he murmurs, “I told you not to come here! Do you ever listen?”

He doesn’t notice the way you flinch at his words, the way you look at him with glossy eyes as you search for the usual warmth in his eyes.

“I’m gonna get you some water and then I’ll drive you home, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

He gets up, he looks down at you, your eyes lock and he notices the way you look at him, like a scolded child, big eyes that are filled with sadness and guilt, pouty, quivering lips. His eyes soften but he is still so angry, he sighs and turns away and walks back into the house.

He is angry that you didn’t listen, he is angry because he doesn’t know what would happen if he didn’t show up here tonight.

But he doesn’t know what had already happened.

When he walks back out with a water bottle in hand, he closes the door behind him and speaks up without looking at you.

“Alright let’s go – oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me!” He yells, startling some of the people who are still out on the porch. But you are gone.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Another sleepless night keeps Steve on his toes. He hates it. He finished his homework earlier tonight, he went out for a run, took a long shower, cleaned his room and reread Pride and Prejudices again.

He wanted to go to the movies with Nancy but she had already made plans with Barb tonight – a ‘girls sleepover’.

He envies her a little, he doesn’t have any friends anymore, no one to hang out with, no one to play basketball with, no one to go to the movies with. He misses it.

He lies in his bed, throwing a baseball into the air and listening to Tears For Fears. He lets his mind wander, he wonders what you are doing right now, he wonders if you are with Eddie tonight, he wonders if – no. Stop it, just stop it.

Sighing, he throws the ball across the room, letting it bounce of the wall and onto the floor, he turns on his side, facing his nightstand and the telephone he keeps staring at every night, hoping for a call from –

His heart leaps to his throat and he almost jumps up when it starts ringing. He stares at it for a moment, almost in disbelief.

The shrill ringing continues to sound through the room and he leans over, grabbing the receiver and sitting up as he holds it to his ear.

“Hello?”

Steve doesn’t know what or who he expected it to be – maybe Nancy or his mom or even Dustin or one of the other kids who sometimes prank call him but when he hears the quiet sniffle, he instantly knows who it is without having to hear the voice first.

His face falls and a frown takes over.

“Steve?”

next chapter

taglist: @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @wroteclassicaly @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

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honkytonk-hangman · 8 months

Text

Big Girl

Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin doesn't believe you should hide your light under a bushel, no.

Notes: Just a lil drabble i've been working on. I just think Jake would be the kinda guy who loves his girl to be big and loud and successful!!!!!!! ty to @roleycoleyland for being my rock the past few months holy gosh this one's for you bbyyy!!!! <3

Masterlist

“It’s a deployment, Samuel! It’s not like I have a choice!” you hiss, before closing your eyes and trying to get a hold of yourself. Afterall, it's not as though you and your boyfriend were in the comfort of your apartment. No, he’d decided to start this argument in the parking lot of the damn Hard Deck.

“Having a choice has nothing to do with it. You want to go, that's the real issue here!” Sam all but spits at you. You reel back, and throw your hands up in exasperation.

“So what if I do?! This is a big deal for me! This is a big deal for my career! I should be allowed to be excited about that!” you insist. Sam rolls his eyes at you and scoffs.

“Oh, there you go again! It’s always got to be about you and your big career, right?! Can’t let anything come before that!”

“That isn’t fair,” you lower your voice, and try to keep it from wobbling. “I have tried so hard to make sure you know you’re equally as important to me, but that was never going to work, was it?” Your voice does break a little this time, and you suck in air as you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back from him.

“You have decided from day one that you feel inferior, and you are never going to let me forget it! I have done everything to show you otherwise but you won’t let it be enough! You don’t want to change, you want me to change.” you probably shouldn’t let all of this air out in the parking lot of your favourite local bar, but you can’t stop yourself now, and the words tumble from your mouth faster than you can think things through. “I have tried to put myself in the box that makes you comfortable, but the truth is that I’m too big for it, I'm never going to stop being too big, so I’m never going to fit your stupid box!”

The two of your stare at one another for a few moments, you huffing tearily, and Sam staring at you in what looks like disgust. At last he scoffs again, and looks away from you, off toward the beach before he pulls out his car keys.

“Good luck with your big career.” he says mirthlessly, and you shut your mouth, swallowing hard as he climbs back in his car, giving you only seconds to step out of the way before he’s throwing it in reverse.

Suddenly you’re standing alone in the parking lot, blinking at the space where your probably-now-ex boyfriend just was. You don’t feel regret, exactly, but you do feel a deep sense of disappointment pulse through you. It’s not like you didn't mean everything you said, but you wonder if perhaps you might’ve said it differently.

Before you can get too far feeling sad though, a righteous kind of anger takes you over and you kick into action, stomping inside the bar and pushing through the busy crowd. When you order a straight bourbon, Penny frowns at you, and you know your eyes must be all red and glassy, but she doesn’t ask you, simply gives you her kindest smile and slides your glass towards you.

You down it quickly, and take a few deep breaths, hoping the alcohol might steel you some more, but it frustrates you to find your tears have started leaking, and you angrily wipe at them with the back of your hand.

“I don’t mean to pry…” a voice, somewhat familiar, sounds from next to you, making you turn. You’re slightly startled to find one of the pilots you’ve seen around base leaning casually against the bar. You know him to be a TOPGUN graduate, like yourself, but you’d never spoken before, let alone shared the sky. Hangman, you remember suddenly, and square your shoulders somewhat. It was coming back to you now. He had a bit of a reputation.

“I happened to arrive at the same time as you… couldn’t help but overhear all the commotion,” he speaks like he finds it all rather funny, but straightens up and clears his throat when you can’t help but look away from him, struggling to blink back tears. Dropping all pretence, he stops leaning and steps in a little closer with a frown on his face.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t tryna’...” he trails off once more and you suck in a deep breath as you try to calm down.

Embarrassment lances through you, and you mostly just wish Hangman will leave you alone completely, but he doesn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shuffle on his feet in a manner you hadn’t been able to imagine him doing before now, and you try to get ahold of yourself.

Hangman seems to watch you for a beat before his demeanour changes up and he ducks his head down to catch your attention.

“For the record, if you hadn’t of said any of that, I might’ve,” His voice is somewhat humorous again, but this time it’s like he’s trying to make you laugh, which, caught off guard by his words, you do. You sneak a glance over at him, not feeling so intimidated anymore, and you almost laugh again to see him look so proud.

You watch as Hangman flags down Penny once more, ordering you another round and a beer as you use a napkin to blot at your face discreetly. When he looks back at you, his expression is much more intent than you’re fully comfortable with.

“Don’t you ever let some guy put you in a box, alright?” he tells you like it’s an order. It takes you a moment, but eventually you find yourself nodding at his words, not bothering to hide your surprise. The little you knew of this man was that he was prickly at most, and a complete asshole at worst, so his almost angry words in your defence take you off guard.

He stares at you until he seems satisfied you’ve heard him, and then his shoulders sag just a little and his expression softens.

“Find someone who’ll love that bigness, alright?” he says after a moment, before clearing his voice and straightening up once again as your drinks are delivered. Your cheeks want to warm in embarrassment at his referencing your little speech outside, but then he’s taking his beer with a thanks to Penny, and gesturing blindly toward you.

“Put her drinks on my tab tonight, alright?”

He doesn’t give you time to protest before he’s pushed away from the bar and disappeared into the bustling crowd of patrons.

The next time you see Hangman, his sudden appearance is just as unexpected as the first time, and just as welcome. You’re in a bar again, of course, only this time halfway around the world and thankfully, not crying. Your squad had a limited amount of shoreleave, so you were making the most of it while you could, before you needed to be back on base in the morning.

You hear a loud cheer from somewhere by the pool tables and glance over your shoulder toward where most of the Navy personnel had gathered, but you can’t see much aside from a few new faces. You assume they must be the other squad that Roukie had mentioned were passing through, but you’re quickly distracted again by the bartender coming your way.

Just as your server begins moving away to sort out your rather large order, you feel a hand at your back, quickly followed by the materialisation of a uniformed man beside you, his massive grin and sparkling green eyes flashing as a welcomed sight to your slightly hazy mind, and you let out a gentle sound of excitement as you turn to greet him properly.

“Hangman!” you exclaim, feeling only a little funny about being so happy to see him when you don’t even know him that well. Hangman thinks little of it, his smile turning brighter, more genuine as he eases into a lean against the bar, mirroring the last time you saw him, all cool and casual confidence as he nods towards you.

“How’s my Big Girl?” he asks, eyes crinkling in the corners. You can’t help but let out a laugh, but force yourself to look away from him for a second and pray to any god listening that he can’t tell how flustered you are.

“I think this is the first time in history a man has said that to a grown woman and isn’t going to get gut punched for it.” you deflect from the barrel rolls your stomach is doing. He chortles, and settles in even closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Well?” he prods, still staring at you even as the bartender returns, and you go to pay for your round, only to have Hangman push your outstretched hand away and hand over his own card instead. “Come on now, don’t keep me waitin’,” he says with playful sternness, and your already two-drinks deep mind can’t help but give in, and you begin gushing about your deployment so far, a few of the assignments you’d gotten to do, and some of the achievements you’d earned. Hangman stays staring at you through it all even as you gesticulate wildly as you speak or describe manoeuvres, and you’re so invested in your story telling that you barely register how or when you’d both moved back over to the surrounds of the pool table, where you assume Hangman had circulated the round you’d (he’d) bought all the while still listening to you talk.

You must be four or five drinks down when you at last come to a stop, giggling a small amount at the tail end of your last story. The sun has well and truly set now and you’re crammed in one side of a sticky pleather booth, Hangman on the other. You realise then, that you must have been talking for over an hour, probably much more.

“I’m sorry, that was so much!” you say, bashfully ducking your head a little. Hangman cocks his head at you, a wry smile pulling at his lips as he watches you fiddle with your drinks coaster.

“I know what I asked for.” he tells you with an assuredness you can’t question, and even as you glance away from him to catch yourself, his attention remains on you. You have to blame your four or five, maybe six drinks for the next words out of your mouth.

“You know, I don’t think you’re an asshole at all,” you declare, face growing hot when Hangman lets out a surprised, but amused bark of laughter, but doesn’t question your statement.

“Oh, is that right?” he asks instead, leaning forward like he’s very much intrigued by this assertion. “What am I then?”

You think he’s teasing you, but again, you can’t really help what comes out of you, and you draw your arm up onto the table to rest your head in your palm, and blink back at him slowly.

“Pretty, for the most part.” you tell him, trying to suppress a sudden yawn. Hangman's laugh is less boisterous this time, more of a chuckle really, and you find that your blinking has slowed even more, longer pauses between closing your eyes and opening them.

When you startle back awake some seconds later, you think you might’ve just fallen asleep, but you see that Hangman is watching you softly again, and you can’t help but smile as your eyes flitter shut once again. Warm hands guide you to your feet moments, maybe hours later, but when you pull back at the grasping, a soft shushing joined by a gentle voice lulls you back into sleep.

“Alright, Big Girl lets get you home.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction

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phxntomsdusk · 5 months

Text

My forever - Will x GN!Reader

summary: you never planned on falling for your best friend, but you don’t regret it<3

warnings: none<3

tags: @ax-y10 (ask to be added)

word count: 2k

You and Wilbur had been friends forever. Meeting in primary school, and clicking almost instantly. Nobody could separate you two even if they tried, you were glued at the hip.

Of course, challenges came along the way. Friend group fallouts, family problems, summertime depression, etc. but you two always had each other, no matter what. And of course, with every cliche friendship, feelings got involved.

It started with the simple questions you received in the hallways. “Are you dating?” “Are you two a thing?” It was a constant reminder that everyone would assume you and him were together, even if you were just really close.

But it made you question yourself, could you ever date him? You always said he was your other half, the person you could always go to. You would never discuss it with him, it was saved for your journal to rant and curse out all of your emotions and thoughts.

You didn’t know Wilbur was doing the same thing, questioning himself every time he caught himself staring at you got a bit too long. How could he not stare? He was best friends with the most beautiful person he had ever met. But of course, he didn’t dare make a move.

Eventually, it became obvious to your friends that the two of you had a thing for one another, and they came up with a plan that just had to work.

Every weekend everyone would meet at your friend Chris’s treehouse, but this time, they would all find a way to leave you two alone with the lingering topic left for you to discuss.

“Hey, guys!” Your friend Kelly smiled widely at you and Will, helping you get inside the treehouse door and allowing you to sit on the small makeshift couch in the corner. Will joined after you, taking his spot right next to yours, and wrapping an arm over your shoulder like he always did. “Graduation is, like, a few weeks away. That’s insane.”

Your attention was brought to Chris, nodding at his words. “I know, right? We’ve all known each other for nearly 10 years at this point. We’re so old.” You earned a laugh from Will before he spoke up and leaned forward, moving his arm around your back. “Exactly. We’ll all be heading off to uni in a few months too, well, maybe not Zach.”

Your friend, Zach, let out an offended gasp. He was known as the dumbest one in your group, mostly because he had failed all of his classes through all of high school, yet somehow passed the year. “I definitely will get into uni! I’m going to Harvard.” He scowled at Will, earning an even louder laugh from him.

“As if, you’d be better off getting a job as a janitor for Harvard,” Chris spoke up with a teasing smile, before looking over at you and Will with a knowing look. “Guys, when do you think we’ll all get married?”

The question struck you with confusion. Why would he be talking about marriage? He didn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone someone to marry. “Why do you ask? I mean, I’d hope to get married by around 25, I don’t wanna be in my 30’s.” You shrugged and leaned back into Will’s hold, watching as he nodded in agreement.

“25 is a good age. But with the way I want to get into music, I may be touring by then. I’m telling you now, I’m gonna be famous.” He smiled and looked down at you, running his hand up and down your arm. “I bet Will and Y/N will get hitched by 21,” Kelly spoke up with a grin, giggling under her breath.

It took you back, both you and Will. Did they all think you were dating too? Sure, you were being touchy, but this was how your friendship worked. But they thought you would get together?

“Me and Y/N? Are you crazy?” Will’s words slightly hurt, earning a frown from you as you simply nodded. “Maybe not crazy. Just delusional.” You smiled at him, sitting up and resting your head against the back of the ‘couch’.

Chirs and Zach looked at each other with the same knowing look, before announcing they had to leave for a moment. You were confused as they got up, climbed down the ladder, and rushed inside of Chris’s house. Kelly soon joined them, leaving you and Will all alone.

The silence was eating at you, wanting to speak up and say something, but not knowing what to say. Until he spoke up for you.

“Could you see a future with me?” He looked at you with a curious and hopeful expression, almost as if he wanted you to say yes. You had never thought of it before, but now that you were, you definitely could. “I mean, yeah. Can you?” He thought for a moment, smiling and nodding at you. “Yeah. I can.”

The two of you sat in silence for a bit longer, simply smiling at yourselves. “Wanna go on a date? To try and test it out, maybe?” You looked back at him, a light blush on both of your faces. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

It was settled. You and Wilbur were attempting a date.

About a week had passed, and it was nerve-racking, you didn’t want to get too dressed up or be too underdressed. Should you do your hair? Makeup? Wear special jewelry? Would he even notice? He was taking you to the movies, why did any of this matter so much to you?

You settled on a simple band t-shirt, jeans, converse, and a necklace he had gifted you on a previous birthday of yours. It was a simple yet good enough outfit for a date.

He picked you up at around 6 pm, he always said nighttime movies were the best, and he wasn’t wrong at all. You were going to see Spider-Man, his choice of course. You were lucky he had enough cash on him to get popcorn and some drinks, even getting you a box of your favorite candy, because who doesn’t love overpriced candy?

“I never thought I’d be taking my best friend on a date. Especially one of the most cliche dates in history.” He spoke as you two entered the theater, sitting towards the back and getting comfy. “Me neither. I bet our friends are happy.” You smiled at him, taking a bit of the popcorn from the hun he held. “Oh. Before I picked you up Chris called me and gave me tips on how to kiss.”

The simple comment made your cheeks flush for a second, Chris expected you two to kiss? It wasn’t like you’ve never kissed anyone, you just never kissed someone this close to you. “Really? He’s a huge dreamer. I swear his dreams are more unrealistic than Zach getting into Harvard.”

Will laughed at your comment, and you noticed how pretty he seemed to truly be. The ways the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled, the way his dimples would become extra visible whenever he smiled at you. Were you falling for him?

“You’re staring.” He commented quietly before his attention was brought to the lights being shut off and the intro playing for the movie. He wasn’t wrong, you had been staring. “No, I wasn’t.” Denial was the best plan at this point.

It was silent for the most part, besides the movie, but there was an awkward tension between you two. It was like you knew something but wouldn’t tell the other.

Your eyes were locked on the screen, occasionally laughing or commenting on a scene, but mostly sitting in silence. Until he spoke up.

“Wanna head to our spot after this?” He looked at you with a smile, one that somehow made your heart melt. By his spot he meant the parking garage at your local mall, the top had been blocked off due to the concrete beginning to give out in certain areas. “Yeah, I’m down.”

And of course, that’s where you went. The two of you sat on the hood of his car, staring up at the darkening sky as you spoke about anything and everything.

“Do you ever think the stars could, maybe, help find your soulmate?” He blurted out randomly, followed by a laugh. “Like, when you meet your soulmate, imagine if you saw your initials in the stars. That would be so cool!” You simply laughed along with him, shaking your head at his behavior. “You’re so weird.”

A comfortable silence fell on the both of you, you hadn’t even noticed he started to stare at you. It wasn’t weird or creepy, it was comforting and sweet. His gaze was soft, one of his hands gently grabbing ahold of yours. You moved your head to look over at him, meeting his gaze and smiling lightly.

There was a feeling between you two, you both felt it. But it wasn’t foreign, it had been the same feeling you’d developed over the last 10 years of knowing him. You two were in love with each other and didn’t even realize it.

“I think I need to be honest with you.” His words were quiet, and he adjusted his posture for a second and sat up. “Y/N, I think I’m in love with you.” He looked at you with a worried yet hopeful look, almost like he wanted you to say the same.

Did you feel the same? Well, he was almost always the first thought when you woke up. You would fall asleep on a call with him, making sure he was the last person you spoke to before sleeping. Maybe you did love him.

“I think I love you too.” Your voice was equally quiet, the two of you sharing a knowing look before he slowly leaned in and gently kissed you. It only lasted a few moments, but it was still meaningful. “Did Chris’s advice pay off?” He spoke in a joking tone, earning a laugh and nod from you. “Definitely.”

One week. One entire week since you two kissed.

Today was graduation day, you had barely seen him during the week of your schedules not lining up. Your cap and gown paired nicely with your outfit somehow, a smile on your face the entire day.

The ceremony was short and sweet, at least when you weren’t paying attention. Hearing your name be announced, earning your diploma, getting that final handshake. It was unbelievable. You were practically on autopilot during the entire thing.

It wasn’t very memorable until it was over. Everyone meets up with their family and friends afterward, getting congratulated for making it through the entire year. And then you spotted him.

Will was stood off to the side, awkwardly messing with his cap string before looking up to meet your gaze. A wide smile appeared on his featured, rushing over to wrap his arms around you.

“Y/N! I’m so proud of you.” He smiled widely at you, before pulling you into a sweet kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, smiling into his kiss for a moment until the two of you parted. “I’m proud of you too, Will.” You two didn’t bother to even find your families, simply basking in each other's arms at the moment.

He continued to admire you, placing a hand on the side of your face and running his thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I say something kind of cheesy?” He smiled lightly, earning a nod from you.

“Y/N. I want you to be my forever.”

Your heart melted almost immediately at his words, letting out an audible ‘awe’ as you leaned up and hugged him closely. “You’re so cute.” You mumbled against his shoulder, smiling to yourself as you felt his arms firmly wrap around you.

“I mean it, I love you.” He whispered in your ear, planting a kiss on the side of your temple. He loved you, he did. You looked up at him with a lovesick expression, “I love you too, Will.”

#phxntomsdusk #phxntoms fics #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader

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somnambulic-thing · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson x gn!reader with vagina&boobs

Rating: E, nsfw, 18+ Words: 3.9k read on ao3

smoke and cherry pop rocks Summary: You’ve been silently in love with Eddie for years and he’s leaving Hawkins soon. You want one kiss before he does. He gives you more than that.

CW/tags: no upside-down, angst, fluff, first times, grief, open end, reader has regrets, coming of age (everybody is over 18 though), smut, piv penetration, oral for everybody, lovemarks/bruises, rough sex, sex in public places, nicknames

A/N: In case: Pop Rocks are candy that pops and fizzes in your mouth. I hurt myself with this one, but growing pain is what it is.

If you like and enjoy this little story, let me know. I’d love to hear from you.

It had been dry the past few weeks. So dry that your feet are kicking up small clouds of dirt where the paved roads of Forest Hills trailer park turn into gravelled paths, making your throat itchy and the inside of your mouth feel just as dry.

You’ve been to the trailer park before but never figured out which trailer was home to Eddie Munson. Had, in fact, avoided finding out. You have a rule when it comes to Eddie and you are about to break it.

The rule was simple enough: Don’t.

Don’t get too close.

Don’t get lost in those eyes, that wit, that kaleidoscope mind.

Don’t let him get too close.

Don’t.

He had been a Senior and you a Sophomore when you created that rule, your crush at first nothing more than a light tickling on the back of your neck and some innocent thoughts about a kiss from those ever-smirking lips. He’d been prickly, snapped at you more than once when he caught you casting not-so-secret glances across hallways until one day, he didn’t. Until one day, he said hi.

And then he had been a Senior and you a Junior and he had given you a ride home, picking you off the street with sweet words and gentle hands after your bike betrayed you and the asphalt scraped the skin off your knees and palm. He walked you to your door to make sure you wouldn’t faint or something even though you clearly felt alright, insisting on taking care of your bike.

“I know what I’m doing. That way I’m sure it won’t give up on you again. Don’t want this to keep me up at night.”

His graduation had been only a few months away that day - or so you‘d thought - and as he stood there, so close, smiling at you, arms crossed over his chest and unable to stand still your whole body had screamed Don’t. He’ll be gone and it will rip you apart.

And then he had been a Senior and so had you and Eddie slipped you pieces of paper during class; little silly drawings to make you smile on days you didn’t feel like it. He held doors for you when you were still half a hallway away and remembered your birthday without you ever telling him the date, singing for you in the school parking lot.

Despite your best efforts to stay away, there had been many and many small moments that had felt like lurking avalanches - a few close calls - but one way or the other, you had walked away unscathed. Right?

You had both graduated three days ago.

Eddie had walked the stage, snatched his diploma and raised two of the happiest middle fingers you had ever seen into the air and bolted like the devil was behind him. You wanted to kiss him. Kiss him so badly. While you still could.

But you didn’t.

Eddie would leave Hawkins soon. He’d found a spot as a roadie, hoisting equipment for a thrash metal band. “Not even a bad one,” he had smirked, radiating excitement. You remember the afternoon he told you about it with painful clarity. He was going to make connections, be a good sport, flex his skills on the guitar whenever an opportunity revealed itself. He had a whole plan.

Eddie would leave soon and you would go to college and so you had said so long tohim with a straight face that felt like it was on fire and that finally was the end of your ordeal. Right?

You already miss him.

So now you’re at the trailer park and your mouth is dry and no matter how much you tell yourself it’s just the dust or the unusual heat or the fact that you had walked here for almost an hour without so much as a sip of water, you knew the real reason was Eddie.

You spot his van first.

And then you spot him. Stretching out on his back on the floor of the small deck in front of the trailer. One arm under his head, his feet bopping to a tune in his mind, tendrils of smoke rising up from his face like ephemeral poems. Golden hour was only minutes away and already the sun tinted everything in this light that had the color of bittersweet memories.

You place your feet carefully, eager to stay unnoticed as long as you can, not ready to leave this limbo yet. He was just beautiful like this; even in inertia, Eddie was a wild thing.

He turns his head at last; you don’t stop, don’t falter even though inside of you everything screams Don’t.

You see him squint, the low and glaring sun behind you shrouding you just a little longer giving you a few more precious seconds to clear your mind, to prepare your words.

Except it doesn’t. He recognizes you anyway.

Over the distance, you hear your name spoken in that voice that had made you jump on your first day in High School; he’d been running late and barged into the wrong classroom. His hair had been shorter, sticking out in every direction like he was electric, made of storm. The voice is deeper now, rougher, but you would recognize it underwater. You hear it in your dreams.

“Hi, Eddie,” says your mouth while your mind says Don’t.

“You, uh, got lost or something?

“No,” you say and come to a halt. With you, you bring your shadow and you cast it over his face. His features relax, the squint disappears and you look down into pitch-black eyes. “I was looking for you.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

“You, like, wanna… buy something green or…?”

“For you.”

Where once sleeves had been on his shirt were now big holes reaching down to his waist, the fabric rolling in slightly at the raw edges where he’d cut along. You can see the pale skin spanning over his ribcage, can see the rise and fall, can see the ink.

Eddie looks at you in silence. You even like the way he doesn’t talk.

Don’t.

He starts to move, eyes fixed on you as he sits up, places his palms on the floor, rings click-clacking softly, cigarette butt coughing bitter tufts of smoke from between his fingers. He pushes himself around in one swift motion, crossing his legs, bare feet covered in dust, and faces you.

Your mouth is dry, is arid, is a desert.

“What do you mean for me?”

DON’T, it screams.

Ah, shut the fuck up, you answer.

“Have you ever heard of anticipatory grief?”

He blinks, fast, tilts his head, tilts the corners of his mouth down.

“Hmm, nope,” he shakes his head, “but I think I… get the gist. Why? You came to ask me this?”

“I came to kiss you.”

“What?”

“That is, if you want me to... To kiss you.”

The cigarette has snuffed out between his fingers and he throws it away into an unseen distance, his eyes searching your face for clues. You give him a smile.

“Are you for— for real?”

You nod.

“You’re not messing with me? Because that would be a fucked up thing to do.”

Your heart rushes the blood through your veins like a torrent, you feel it pool on your cheeks.

“Eddie,” you say the way you always wanted to. Soft and longing. “I had a crush on you for so long…” You close your eyes. “Years... Still have.”

“Shit! I… uh, shit.” You hear only crickets and a lawn mower in the distance and you wonder if he has vanished into thin air. “Could you, like, look at me?”

It takes effort, but you do.

“You… you never...”

“I know.”

“Why now? Why—“ You can see him think, putting crooked pieces together. “Anticipatory grief?”

“Fuck, you’re clever.”

His head draws back, his brows draw together; it looks like he’s drawing the wrong conclusion. “So you, what? Expected me to be an ass about it? To mess with you?”

“Not all that clever then,” you smirk and Eddie looks confused.

“Well, fuck you, milady,” he says with a tense smile and waves a hand through the air. You want to evaporate, flow through those fingers. “But you’re making no sense to me right now. Help me out?”

“You’re leaving soon.”

“Wait, wait, wait: you said years.”

A laugh is tickling you to let it out, you hold it back and sigh. “I thought for years you’d be leaving soon.”

“Shit,” he almost barks, fingers stilling an itch on his temple. Then he laughs and you do too.

You step closer, leaving only a few feet between you while the laughter is softly running out. And then he breathes in deep into his lungs; holds it holds it holds it. Oh to envy the air so much, it was embarrassing.

“Why now?”

“I don’t know—”

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie…”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

His chest expands again, you see him clenching his fists before he rests his hands on his thighs, ringed fingers splayed wide on black denim.

“Say my name like that—”

“I’m sorry—“

“Answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do that.”

It’s like a dance somehow, no, not quite, but you’re feeling out of breath and the rhythm is addictive.

“Answer my question…” and then he smiles, pulls his hands to his face, palms pressed together like in prayer, “…sweetheart.”

Asshole, you think losing the fight against a shiver.

“Because,” he says, propping his sharp yaw against his knuckles, “I would have been in on it in a heartbeat. On a date. Or something. Anything, really.”

You say his name like that again and hide your face inside your palms, seeking refuge from your past decisions. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Yeah, fuck that. You started this. I’m just, ahm, levelling the playing field,” he laughs a little bitterly. “T’s not like I won’t think about some if’s and could have been’s now, ya know?”

You can’t look up. You want to ask him if he heard of spontaneous self-combustion before but then he holds the match that sets you on fire.

“I always liked you.”

The groan escaping you is muffled by your palms. “So why did you never say something?”

There is a tap on your shoulder, the sudden touch startling you out of your stupor, and when you come up his warm palms almost feel cool on your heated face.

And Eddie kisses you.

A high-pitched noise escapes your throat, your hands fly to his wrists, holding on like vices because he tastes like smoke and cherry pop rocks and like endless summer skies and the world is spinning as much as his lips are soft and he sighs a little and—

Eddie is kissing you!

You take a step forward, your stomach hits the deck and you wind your fingers through his hair. The roots are damp with sweat and he sighs again when you pull. He opens his mouth to welcome you in, to lick at you with his cherry tongue and steal your breath right from your lungs and—

And then it ends. Time has never passed so fast.

The dissonance of your laboured breathing hangs between you like a chance, a peek, a warning; Eddie won’t let go of your face and you won’t let go of his.

And then he smiles. “Was good?”

You nod. “Too short.”

“Wanna come up here for more?”

Eddie’s laugh echoes through the trailer park as you scramble to climb up the deck. You knock him over, or maybe you don’t, because his hands are already on your arms and pull you with him to the floor. It doesn’t matter one way or the other. What matters is his tongue in your mouth, the hard edge of his teeth against yours and his skin under your wandering fingertips.

The sun is setting.

Eddie is still kissing you when it leaves this day for good.

Wedged between your thighs he now and then whispers little secrets to your skin.

You are so pretty.

You smell so good.

You’re making me so hard.

Eddie’s throat tastes like salt and summer dust; he likes it when you bite him.

I never said a thing because I thought you wouldn’t want me.

Because wanting you scares me.

Because you always were so distant—

when I came close.

“I’m so stupid,” you confess.

“Not stupid, sweetheart.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” He speaks those words into your mouth as if to share the bitterness.

I’m glad you came.

I’m glad you’re here.

I want you to stay.

I want you to stay. And if it’s only for one night…

Eddie’s room is a mess but his bed is soft. So is the light, illuminating chaos you had imagined countless times before but it’s no match for the chaos inside you. There’s so much you want to say, but so much skin to kiss. You fill the spaces in between.

“Sometimes,” you pant, his lips against your throat, “I sneak into your concerts.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” he says, almost ripping your shirt, sucking on your breasts.

“I love the sound of your voice.”

“You mean that?”

You nod, straddling his thighs, unbuttoning his pants. “I wanna hear you moan.”

Eddie moans for you when you sink down on his cock.

You feel so good.

I can’t believe it.

Neither can you. For the day began with a dragging sense of emptiness and now you are so full of him it’s driving you insane. He moans your name while you ride him, while you show him how you feel in a way words can’t.

You’re so warm.

So soft.

I wanna taste your pussy.

The secrets stop as he licks at you with fervour; but not the moans. Eddie is spoiling you with those and you’re spoiling him with praises.

He’s careful with his fingers, almost like he’s scared. You tell him where to touch, how to move and he thanks you with his eyes; shining and wide and full of pride and wonder as you tense around his fingers, twitch under his tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie, please…”

Eddie is rough. You want him to wreck you.

I want you to remember this with your whole body.

I wanna make you breakfast.

I’m leaving in two weeks. Two weeks. Gimme those two weeks.

“Yeah,” you moan against his neck. “I’ll give you anything.”

“Don’t— don’t do that.”

“For two weeks,” you shove your hand under his chin, you make him look at you. He’s so deep inside of you it’s hard to think but this is easy: “For two weeks, I’ll give you anything.”

Eddie kisses you; he tastes like you, like you, like you and nothing else. With one hand he pins your wrists above your head and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow.

When he falls asleep on your chest, you whisper little secrets of your own.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I’m so in love with you.

Eddie makes you breakfast. His uncle looks happy and confused; he wants you to call him Wayne. Dramatic eyes seem to be a Munson thing. Wayne makes you laugh with stories about Eddie, Eddie makes you laugh with being flustered and shy. When it’s just you and Wayne for a moment, he slips you a picture of a younger Eddie. Hair short, guitar too big for him. You hide it away like a treasure.

You promised each other two weeks so he gives the car shop an early notice to make time.

“But you need the money, Eddie.”

“I can’t buy this with money, sweetheart.”

“But—“

Eddie likes to shut you up with kisses. It’s not fair, you tell him. He doesn’t give a fuck, he tells you.

You have fourteen days and Eddie’s head is in your lap, a guitar on his chest and he plays for you; melody soft and sad, smile sharp and wide under your adoration. Even little quarrels feel like blessings because the make up is so sweet. Later, he takes you downtown where he never lets go of your hand and licks ice cream off your face.

I wrote this the day you scraped your knees.

I don’t mind you being stubborn when you kiss me like that.

You taste better without it.

Twelve days and you wake up in his arms; he keeps you in bed for hours. Soft kisses, roaming hands and never a moment of silence, you and Eddie sharing everything your minds provide, making every second count. In the evening, Eddie takes you to see a movie. He makes you come twice. You walk back to the trailer park, barefooted.

I still can’t believe you’re here.

I could listen to your thoughts for hours.

I want to fuck you in weird places.

Ten days and Eddie rolls a joint for you to share. You smoke on the roof of the trailer, making up silly names for constellations, laughing till your stomachs hurt. Then you fuck him, palms pressed to his chest, keeping him down. You draw it out till the sun comes up behind you, leaving him a mumbling mess, the corrugated metal of the roof leaving bruises on his back. You kiss them all; they are your favorite color.

I don’t want to leave anymore.

“But I’m leaving too.”

“I know.”

Seven days and Eddie packs you a picnic. It’s mostly junk food and you both feel full and lazy, like turned-over beetles, giggling like children in the high grass at the shore of Lovers Lake. You find clouds that look like dicks and whales and guitars and it’s all a bit of the same, really, and you bully Eddie out of his clothes because the water looks so nice and cool.

I used to come here with my mother.

It’s good to leave here laughing.

I’ll miss your laugh. So much.

Four days and Corroded Coffin play their last show. You are the first row in a crowd of twenty people; you cheer for twenty more. After, you give the band space, watching the end from the sidelines. There are tears, there are hugs, there are stories of days past and promises for those to come. In his van, Eddie falls into your arms and clings to you for twenty minutes. Then he kisses you, pulls you greedily into his lap and almost breaks his window when there’s no condom to be found.

I didn’t think all of this would be so hard.

I’m crazy about you.

It’s not fair.

I want to make you come with my fingers, please.

Three days and you take Eddie to your house. He needs to see where you live from the inside. Your mother loves him, like you knew she would. He pokes around your room, inspecting everything he can. Sadly, it’s not much; you already started packing. He gets quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate to see those boxes with your stuff.”

“You wanna sleep at your place?” you caress his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“No.”

Eddie can’t fall asleep. You find him wide awake at three in the morning, staring at boxes and crying silent tears. He hates it that you see them.

“Come on, get dressed. We’re leaving.”

“No.”

“I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Tough shit,” he huffs. “You said you’ll give me anything. Give me this. I wanna feel this.”

So neither of you sleep. The sun comes up when Eddie pushes your face into the mattress, your wrists in his hand on your back. He’s not gentle. You don’t want him to be. He’s everywhere. By noon he kisses the bruises on the back of your thighs. They are his favorite color, he says. He wants to leave the boxes now. So you leave.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you are stupid.

I don’t mean it!

I’m sorry.

I just want years of this.

Two days and you just stay in bed. Eddie reads to you. Lord of The Rings and he’s doing different voices, and sound effects; narrates the rain, the hooves of pony’s and everything in between with gentle fingertips on the back of your hand. And it makes you cry. Makes you cry so hard that Eddie’s shirt is soaked where he holds you to his shoulder.

“Anticipatory grief. I get it now,” he says into your hair. There is something he doesn’t say. You can feel it, but you don’t ask.

This time when he fucks you, Eddie is nothing but gentle. You almost can’t stand it. You never want him to stop. Keep him inside of you forever.

I’m in love with you.

No, I mean it.

I always liked you, remember?

“I’m in love with you too, Eddie.”

“Say that again.”

Eddie’s van is packed. He’s leaving in two hours.

Your lips are swollen from kissing, biting, sucking his cock and bruises into his skin.

“How can you be so perfect?” you ask him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t let me leave.”

“Eddie…”

Eddie slides from your arms, slides from his room, out the porch door and flees into the forest behind the trailer.

You look after him, stunned.

Wayne sits on the deck, smoking.

“M’ sorry, kid. Really sorry.”

You know what he means. You’re sorry too.

“If he’s not back in twenty, you go after him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s my boy,” Wayne chuckles. There are tears in his voice.

You find Eddie sitting on a low branch, staring into the distance.

“You found me.”

“You’re leaving.”

“So are you.”

There are some nettles stinging your calves as you walk over, but the look on his face stings more.

It’s like the day you found him two weeks ago: you looking up at him, his eyes brimming with confusion. Except it’s nothing like two weeks ago.

“If this isn’t a pretty fucking case of self-fulfilling prophecy then I don’t know what is.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brushing hair out of his face.

“You know what I mean.”

Of course, you do. It was you who made that prophecy.

“Do you regret it? That you gave me that kiss?” you ask in fear, a tear fleeing down your cheek.

Eddie kisses it away. “Don’t be stupid.”

Ten minutes and you lean against his van. His arms are crushing you, your nails leave red trails on his back and shoulders. You want him to remember.

“M’ going to miss you,” you sob.

“Gonna miss you too, sweetheart.”

I’ll call you every day I can.

I’ll let you know when I’m in the area.

M’ gonna visit you. I promise.

Eddie kisses you. He tastes like smoke and cherry pop rocks and plain old sadness.

You made me so happy.

It’s almost cruel.

I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.

Your mouth is dry as you watch him drive away, clouds of dirt rising from the dusty tires. Wayne holds you while you sob; he’s crying too. “Stop by for coffee b’fore you leave,” he says and you promise you will as you wave him goodbye.

The sun is low and golden as you start your way home. No. To the place where your boxes are waiting. You feel uprooted.

Two days later and the phone is ringing. You trip over a bag of clothes and bump your knee on the coffee table. You don’t feel the pain.

“Eddie?”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #Eddie Munson #eddie munson smut #somnambulic-thing #my fic

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ktsumu · 3 months

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FIFTH TIME’S A CHARM

cw: suggestive content, nudity happy valentine's day ᡣ𐭩

This year, for the first time ever, Tooru doesn’t buy flowers for his valentine. You are the only witness to the crime.

His first girlfriend, back in junior high, got roses. She got him roses, too, with a chocolate bar he ended up giving to his sweet tooth sister. They were real, shockingly, smelt good too.

They were discounted, and it’s a basic gift, but he was twelve and had only been seeing her for three weeks.

(And they broke up two weeks later, so he has no regrets about the roses that cost his mom less than fifteen bucks.)

The second girlfriend was a little more serious.

Tooru thinks he might’ve been fourteen for that one. He liked her—she was kind, pretty, had a nice laugh. He remembers holding hands in the hallway at school and their first kiss (well, peck) was surrounded by a bunch of classmates, screaming like it mattered more to them than it did to him.

He forgets how long they lasted, but he’s sure they started dating in November and made it to Valentine’s Day. He bought her tulips, her favourite, and a stuffed bear, because it was right beside it in the store. With his own money, too.

His second girlfriend—he really, really feels bad about not knowing her name anymore—got him chocolate. He gave it to his sister again, but he kept the card she wrote him, saying she loved him three months in like either of them knew what that meant.

And to be fair, he said he loved her, too. Just not to her face. Many, many times to Hajime, though.

Tooru and Girlfriend #2 broke up in May. He wasn’t even planning on it, either. She just moved to a different country and he wasn’t looking for a penpal, and she said she didn’t wanna cheat on him.

The third girlfriend is where his small list gets serious.

He gave romance a break after the one that got away. He just flirted with people up until his first year of high school, the big leagues, which is when he actually got too much attention.

It’s a huge deal when you’re sixteen and your girlfriend is seventeen. He was crowned royalty of his class, the chosen one. The only one that could possibly score an older girl and act like it’s no big deal, and then proceed to blow her off to watch a game taping or something. On top of the world, and yet so below the standard.

She was pretty good to him. Makki always said he was a moron and she was gonna dump his ass, and Tooru probably knew that, too. Hajime said he was wasting his time, and every time he’d deny it, he’d think about how right he was.

He and the third girlfriend—Hana, he remembers—had one Valentine’s Day together, but it was so close to two that he almost wants to count it as such for the hell of it.

He got her wildflowers because she always said she hated roses and tulips. Basic flowers mean they don’t care, or something like that. He didn’t understand it fully, but he was happy when she leapt into his arms, that was for sure. It felt pretty good when she kissed him stupid and said he was the best, but that high didn’t survive the Spring Tournament the next year.

That’s how close he was to two Valentine’s Days—January. Fucking brutal.

She dumped him and he swore off girlfriends in senior year; probably even blamed it on something stupid like ‘bad omens.’ He graduated with D1 offers, though, so he counts it as a win.

That tallies up to three successful Valentine’s Days, so far right? Yeah, right—all with flowers.

The fourth bouquet wasn’t a bouquet at all, it was actually orchids in a pot, left on the kitchen table of the apartment he lived in when he moved. He was twenty, her name was Riko, his first almost everything. First I love you, first time—name it, basically.

He did make it to two Valentine’s Days with Riko, which is something so impressive for him that confetti emojis were everywhere in the groupchat he kept with his friends from high school. Hearts, confetti, eggplants, whatever else.

The first one was admittedly better than the second, though. The second one, he got a really serious offer overseas, and he didn’t even ask about it. He just told her that he loved her, and that he’d be in Argentina by August.

(Safe to say that he was the only one packing for that.)

That was the last time he bought flowers on Valentine’s Day, because it was the last time he consciously celebrated with someone. He sent his friends funny clips or pictures just to tease, taunted them whenever they could keep a girlfriend to celebrate with, but he gave up himself.

(It’s just so much easier to relax—he’d have no problem getting a girlfriend if he wanted one. His issue is keeping them.)

He’s twenty-seven and solo.

Mostly solo, he should say. You come around a lot, stay the nights with him. You typically collect your clothes and leave the next morning with a wave and maybe a ‘text me if you wanna do this again Friday,’ but he hates how he’s lying when he grins and says he just might.

Tooru is so used to being the one to leave, or to sabotage himself until someone else does, that he’s forgotten that it actually sucks when you don’t wanna be left alone.

The whole point of you and him is to keep it casual, but Tooru can barely keep it cool.

He likes to consider himself experienced. It’s why he gets so fucked up when he kisses you for longer than he realizes, or how he finds himself holding back words he thinks might be too much for casual sex.

You two are functional together, at least. He just puts the system at risk a lot.

When he wakes up today, February fourteenth, he doesn’t even know what day it is. He’s naked, in his own bed at the very least, and he can see his jeans on the floor through the light of the bathroom dripping through the door left open. Dawn peeks through the curtains.

The room is quiet, the window’s open so the birds can talk to him, and to his left, you’re still here.

“Hey,” he says, yawning.

“Good morning,” you say back, a small smile on your face as you stretch. He can’t help but smile back, with his grin and smile lines, eyes drifting to the hem of the sheets that try and cover you up. Okay, naked too. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Woah.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” he replies in a hurry, leaning up on his elbow as he grabs his phone. Yes, very much so.

You raise your brows. “What? Got a wife you forgot about?”

“Very funny.”

“I know, I’ve been waiting,” you say. It’s your turn to yawn now, moving to lay your head on his chest, hand pushing him back down into the bed. “What’s the panic, then?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just … forgot. It's weird.”

“Hm. So where are my roses, huh?”

Tooru scoffs, glancing down at you as he rests a hand on your waist. “They’re being delivered, obviously.”

“I figured.” You cock your head. “What’s up with Valentine’s Day, huh?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never not gotten flowers for someone when I’ve had them.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“What, I can’t get friendly flowers?” he asks, raised brows and attitude waking up with him. “You’re naked in my bed, that must constitute something.”

The way you pout your lip in thought makes him wanna reach out for your hand. Is it weird to do that? Can I do that?

(You do it first, but he holds you tighter.)

“No, this is fine.”

“Fine?”

“Better,” you quickly correct. “I’d rather just stay in bed and say it once. I prefer acts of service, anyway.”

Looking at you, laying on his bare chest, the sun creeping in over yours, he doesn’t care all that much about how he’s breaking tradition anymore. Maybe it’s not even tradition, maybe it’s just a cycle he’s breaking; a vicious one, at that.

You’re an unconventional valentine in the sense that you’re not even his, but maybe when the day’s passed and he doesn’t feel it looming over him, he might bring it up again.

“Acts of service, you say?”

You snicker, being pushed onto your back as he looms over you. He’s looking at you like Cupid hit him; bullseye.

“You wouldn’t happen to know of those, would you?”

“Just tell me what you want, already. Let me make up for the flowers.”

You take him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to kiss you like he means it. Tooru speaks in tongues the two of you best understand.

For the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, Tooru doesn’t buy his valentine flowers. But, for the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, it feels so right that it doesn’t even matter he’s doing it ‘wrong.’

(Next time, when you’re hopefully here again, he doesn’t think he’ll get flowers, either. This'll do.)

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu!! x reader #kit writes

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btscontentenjoyer · 9 months

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BTS Summer Fic Recs

Here are some summer fanfic recommendations if you need something to read on the beach, by the pool, or just in your room while you're trying to escape the heat! If you enjoy any of these stories, please don't forget to let the author know by reblogging and leaving feedback. Most of these stories contain smut or other mature themes so MINORS DNI!

kim namjoon

solace by @m-yg93 (13.5k) fluff/smut

[roommates to lovers]

summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

kim seokjin

all you’re giving me is friction by @hot-soop (28.3k) angst/smut/fluff

[surfer!seokjin x lifeguard!f.reader, lovers to enemies (lite) to lovers]

summary: You’ve graduated! Congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… Except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. And it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door.

min yoongi

the landlord by @ppersonna (4.3k) smut/light crack/pwp

[landlord!yoongi]

summary: your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave. good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.

watermelon sugar by @yoonjinkooked (23k) smut/romcom

[strangers to lovers, vacation au]

summary: Travelling alone to your dream destination had sounded like a good idea at the time. And you don’t regret doing it, of course not - you’re in Greece! The food! The sun! The smell of the sea! The white walls and blue chairs, the hills, the warm days and colder nights. A little company wouldn’t hurt, though. That’s how you end up talking to Min Yoongi, your next door neighbour with whom you practically share a balcony. He’s quiet, he barely leaves his room but when you reach out, he doesn’t push you away. That’s how your Greek adventure begins.

jung hoseok

strawberry sundae by @youtifulhobi (6k) fluff

[lifeguard!hoseok x olympian swimmer!reader, meet cute]

summary: A few years after you begin dating Jung Hoseok, the two of you reminisce about how you met when he was a lifeguard and saved you from drowning, when in reality you had just fell off your strawberry floatie and he just wanted to talk to you.

a taste of paradise by @theharrowing (8k) light angst/smut

[strangers to lovers, chance encounters]

summary: A handsome stranger helps take your mind off of all of the drama that awaits you back home. It is bittersweet, isn’t it, how a chance encounter that makes you feel so good can also just leave you craving more.

park jimin

i need you tonight by @minisugakoobies (1.5k) smut/slight angst?

[pool boy!jimin]

summary: You’re tired of watching your evil stepmom waste your father’s money. So you steal one of her toys.

you dtf? by @sailoryooons (10.2k) smut/pwp

[strangers to one-night stand]

summary: You’ve never had a one night stand. Jimin has had countless. You’re trying to experience new things. Jimin loves doing the same old shit. So when you meet the man going around the club inviting people to touch his ripped abs, you think perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to try new things. It’s Labor Day weekend at the shore - what can go wrong?

into the wilderness by @gukyi (27k) angst/fluff/comedy

[friends to lovers, camp counsellor au, unrequited love]

summary: alright, so last summer’s camp was… disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.

kim taehyung

summer feelings by @jjkeverlast (558) fluff/crack

[childhood best friends to lovers]

summary: taehyung catches you off guard during your first trip to the beach.

himbo hours by @gimmethatagustd (7k) pwp/smut/humor

[himbo!taehyung x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: Trouble always seems to follow Taehyung. An innocent night of finding new friends to share his alcohol, drugs, and boxy smiles quickly turns into a mess when he accidentally punches you, a poor, unsuspecting clubgoer, right in the face. Whoops!

trip by @daechwitatamic (22k) fluff

[friends to lovers, camping au]

summary: Your gigantic crush on Kim Taehyung is so bad that you drop whatever you’re holding every time he speaks to you. Your dirty liar of a best friend SWORE to you he wouldn’t be on this camping trip, but he is. Luckily, the trip gives Taehyung the chance to see you in a new light, admittedly with some help from his best friend (and definitely hired spy) Park Jimin.

jeon jungkook

in which sour and salt could be so sweet when jungkook’s existence reminds you that there is still good in the world. by @onlyswan (3.1k) fluff/a pinch of angst/suggestive

[established relationship]

baecation by @1kook (5.9k) smut

[richboy!jungkook, vacation au]

summary: “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.

heartless by @here2bbtstrash (7.4k) pwp/smut

[exes hooking up]

summary: after a wild summer at the shore where he made more than a few mistakes, jungkook is ready to remind you why you always take him back.

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk (9.4k) fluff/smut

[jungkook x inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers, summer love au]

at the end of the day by @starshapedkookie (13.3k) fluff/smut/a little angst

[ex-baseball player!jungkook, high school friends to lovers, beach/vacation au]

summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?

lemon sherbet by @extravaguk (15k) fluff/smut/angst

[tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook x popular!reader, ex high school classmates, kinda frenemies to lovers, summer au]

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

concrete king by @bratkook (16.7k) fluff/smut

[skaterboy!jungkook x reader, himbo energy]

summary: when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there’s no way you could ever say no to him

ex on the beach by @beahae (mini-series, 18.2k) fluff/light angst/smut

[exes to lovers]

summary: You and Jungkook broke up. But it would be very silly of you to let the fancy beach vacation you both won go to waste, right?

stars behind waves by @taegularities (22.7k) angst/fluff/smut

[estranged childhood best friends to lovers, beach/vacation au]

summary: With a decade’s distance between Jungkook and you, your paths cross on the same island you deemed your second home years ago. And you realise once again – the ocean can never compare to the twinkle in his starry eyes.

paddle with me by @yoongsgguktae (two-shot, 30k) angst/smut

[enemies to lovers, camp counsellor au]

summary: when your camp leader forces you and jeongguk as partners in a team building activity. with frustrations and anger flaring during your journey down the river, how will all this pent-up emotion get released?

Thank you so much for taking the time to check out my list! I read some of these stories while on vacation this year, and some have stayed with me for a while since I read them last summer. If anyone has more summery recommendations, I'd love to hear them, so don't be afraid to put them in the comments or send me an ask <3

#bts fanfic #bts fic recs #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic recs #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic recs #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fic recs #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #summer fic recs #my rec lists #ivi reads

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slxsherr · 1 year

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You're My Favorite Explosion

read part I here and part II here

pairing: charlie walker x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: your relationship isn't perfect, but neither of you could imagine being with anyone else.

wc: 1558

warnings: fem!reader, cursing swearing, kinda angsty, oral sex (m!receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie

bimbo!reader and charlie have a pretty chill senior year imo, since charlie’s busy with you he never gets roped into jill’s ghostface plan.

bimbo!reader ends up being pretty good friends with kirby, completely oblivious to her and charlie’s past. it leads to some awkward situations, but eventually you figure out it’s best not to involve the two.

bimbo!reader buys charlie three months of a horror movie themed subscription box for christmas and he nearly screams when he opens it and a slasher’s head pops out like a jack in the box. he got you a heart locket with his initials engraved on the back, he’s embarrassed bc he thinks it’s cheesy but you love it.

bimbo!reader is charlie’s first new year’s kiss, among other new year’s firsts ;)

bimbo!reader and charlie say “i love you” for the first time on valentine’s day.

bimbo!reader and charlie go to the beach over spring break, and he nearly cums in his trunks when he sees you in your skimpy little bikini. he worries some surfer dude is gonna steal you away from him, but his worries are quickly laid to rest when you spend the whole time doting on him. you’re worried he’s gonna burn, he’s so pale, so you make sure he reapplies sunblock and ask him to get your back and shoulders bc “skin cancer isn’t sexy, baby”.

bimbo!reader gets upset during prom season, charlie never asks you to be his date so you feel like he doesn’t wanna go. he just thought it was implied you were going together, plans a cheesy promposal to make it up to you.

bimbo!reader gets nominated for prom queen and actually wins, but refuses to dance with the prom king bc you don’t wanna dance with anyone else but charlie.

bimbo!reader almost doesn’t graduate bc of some misunderstandings in class, but charlie helps you appeal to the teachers and turn in your missing assignments so you can graduate.

bimbo!reader throws charlie a party when he gets accepted as a film major at usc.

bimbo!reader drags charlie to parties, beaches, concerts, anything to spend time with him before he leaves for college, since you're not going to the same one as him.

bimbo!reader and charlie get into an argument before he leaves, he says things he doesn't mean, things he shouldn't have said, and you let him know that he's free to fuck whoever he wants at usc since he's single now.

college!charlie regrets the whole stupid argument, his first few weeks of college are shit bc everyone is more pretentious than him, none of the girls are you, and he's pretty sure his roommate has been using his shampoo.

college!charlie leaves a party early when a drunk girl tries making out with him, her lipgloss is nauseating, and he misses your soft, fruit flavored kisses.

college!charlie finds you walking down greek row on his way back to his dorm, crying with your heels in hand, and he doesn't hesitate to console you.

“Why are you crying?,” Charlie asks, standing in front of you, surprising you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, tone accusatory, ignoring his question.

“I should be asking you that question, but I’m not. Why are you crying?” He repeats his question, watching your mascara run down your cheeks as you sniffle.

“I got dragged to a stupid frat party,” you answer, throwing your arms over his shoulders to pull him into a hug.

“Is that it? Nothing happened?” He asks, his own arms wrapping around your waist and holding you close to him.

“Not really, I just wish you were with me,” you say, and Charlie can feel your tears through his shirt, dampening his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking as he holds back his own tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You ask, ignoring his apology.

“Anything you want,” he says, and the two of you separate to begin walking to his dorm.

It’s almost as if nothing has changed, Charlie is the same as before you broke up, offering to switch shoes so you don’t have to walk barefoot. He stumbles at first in your heels, but once you manage to give him tips through your laughs he’s able to walk normally. Thankfully his dorm isn’t far, soon you’re both in the elevator, and he’s able to shamelessly take off your heels to walk down the hall to his room.

Charlie has half a mind to block the door with a chair, but figures his roommate will just go home with a friend or a girl from the party he left him at. Instead, he focuses his attention on you, watching you strip out of your revealing outfit and going through his dresser to wear one of his shirts. He wonders if this is what you would’ve done every weekend if he hadn’t said what he said when the two of you had that stupid fight, but he tries not to think about it too much as he changes clothes and joins you in his twin bed, way too small for both of you and forcing you closer together.

“I forgive you, Charlie,” you say after a while, head resting on his chest, your breaths syncing with his as the two of you begin to doze off.

“Thank you,” he says, voice soft as his eyes well with tears.

“I love you, baby,” you say, moving on top of him, straddling his hips. “I love you so much,” you say again, leaning down to kiss him, and he can taste the faint trace of fruity lipgloss you wear, most likely having worn off throughout the night.

“I love you too,” he says when your lips separate from his, feeling you pepper kisses across his face. “I’ve missed you so much,” he says, hands massaging your hips as you grind on him, your kisses trailing lower, across his jawline and down his neck.

“Me too, missed you so much,” you say, moving down the bed, pulling down his boxers to reveal his half-formed erection.

You don’t waste time, spitting in your palm to wrap around his shaft and licking at the tip languidly. It gets messy quickly, as he leaks pre and hardens fully, you start drooling. Your own underwear is damp just from listening to his moans, walls clenching around nothing when you hear him whimper when you suck on his tip. He pulls you away from his dick, and you move back up the bed to kiss him at his request.

“You don’t have to do that, let me–” he says, trying to switch positions, but you stop him.

“No, I wanna ride you,” you say, lining him up with your entrance, your underwear pushed to the side, sitting on his cock before he can try to flip you over again.

“Fuck,” he moans, feeling your tight walls for the first time since before the semester started, holding your hips in a bruising grip to keep you from moving.

Your nails scratch against his lower stomach, leaving thin red lines as you try to move, desperate for any movement. Throughout your breakup, you had been far too miserable to try to find someone else, and your sex drive had almost completely disappeared once your pretty boyfriend wasn’t around. Now that he’s under you, buried deep inside you, stretching you on his cock and setting a fire inside you, you can’t hold back.

Prying his hands off your hips and holding them down on either side of his head is easier than you thought, and you intertwine your fingers as you lift your hips up, squeezing them when you slam your hips back down. His voice is heavenly, encouraging you to keep a steady pace as you bounce on his dick, moaning wantonly as you connect your lips to his in a sloppy kiss.

It’s messy, desperate sex, both of you giving and taking pleasure from the other, eager to let the other know how much they were missed. You let go of his hands to move his hair out of his face, gripping the dark locks when his hands grope your tits, pinching your nipples before moving down to tease your clit.

Your pace falters from the sudden stimulation, and he takes the opportunity to plant his feet and grab your hips, fucking up into you at a faster pace. He reaches deeper this way, making you keen in his ear as the two of you approach orgasm. Thin red lines run from his shoulders to his chest, your nails marking him as he pinches your clit, and you cry out as he keeps fucking you through your release.

“Fuck, baby, just a bit more,” he says, voice strained, feeling you shake as you tense up in pleasure.

Your words are more like whines, slurring out barely comprehensible ‘i love you's and begging for him to cum. It’s what sends him over the edge, hearing you begging for him to finish, and his pace falters as he cums inside you, haphazardly bucking up into you as he rides out his high.

For the first time since he started college, Charlie falls asleep peacefully, your warmth soothing him. It’s easy to drift off when he doesn’t have guilt, remorse, and longing gnawing at his heart.

#charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x reader smut #charlie walker x you #charlie walker x y/n #charlie walker smut #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker fic #charlie walker imagine #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader #scream smut #scream 4 #scream movie #scream franchise

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yougottalovebuckybarnes · 2 months

Note

Hi, I’m so sorry that you have been having a hard time and that you can’t graduate when you wanted to I know that must be hard but you’re taking the time to look after yourself and that’s the most import thing!!!!

If and when you’re up to it I’d love to see a part 3 of forgive me, also maybe with a bit of Sam included? I’m a strong believer that Sam would 100% be on Bucky and Y/n side

Forgive Me, Pt. 3 (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: This request for a third part was from AGES ago, so I apologize for the long delay lol. On the plus side, I’ve finally graduated from college so that is no longer a worry! :) Anyway, this series will definitely be getting a Part 4. I couldn’t stop writing and coming up with more ideas lol. I hope you all enjoy!

==========

“Hate” had always been such a harsh word to me. Of all the feelings that existed, that was the one that I never could seem to grasp fully. Perhaps my heart was too soft or my nature too forgiving, but I had yet to find a person that I truly hated.

I could not even find it in me to hate Steve Rogers, despite all that had happened. Forgiveness was still a work in progress, but perhaps one day I would forgive him completely.

It had been three months since Bucky had found me in our bathroom with an open medication bottle in my hand, and it had been equally as long since he had spoken to the rest of the team. While I found it impossible to hate any of them, Bucky could not stand to even look at them. We had moved out of the compound within twenty four hours of his confrontation with Steve and hadn’t been back since.

Our little apartment in the city was comfortable, but it was not home. I knew that Bucky felt the same, but he refused to admit it out loud. Several attempts to urge him to reach out to Steve had not gone well, and my heart ached as I witnessed his anger consume him. Bucky had reassured me that I was all he needed now, but I knew deep down that he needed his friends, especially Steve. This anger would destroy him if not confronted properly.

And that was why I reached out first.

I found myself in a quiet little cafe in the city on a early Tuesday morning, sipping on an iced late as I watched people make their way down the street to work. The chair across from me scrapped on the ground, and I looked up to find Steve Rogers taking a seat. His face was solemn, almost shameful as his eyes made contact with mine. It was a version of him that I was unfamiliar with. The weeks of sneering and secret glares had melted away into shame and regret.

Part of me thought I should be content, seeing him humbled in this way. But I could not find it in me to rejoice in this. Steve Rogers was doing just as bad as Bucky was, losing his best friend the way that he had. There had to be a way to remedy this.

“Good morning, Steve.” I spoke softly, watching him evenly.

“Good morning.” Steve nodded in response, looking a little uneasy. “Look, Y/N-“

“You know why I asked to meet with you.” I prompted, pushing past the need for small talk to get into what really mattered. I was also quite honestly not ready to accept his apology either, if that was what he trying to do.

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking away briefly. “I don’t know what else I can do. Bucky won’t respond to any of my messages and I wouldn’t dare show up uninvited to your apartment.”

“That would not have gone well.” I agreed, sipping again on my beverage. “But we need to fix this, Steve. I’ve never seen him like this before. He needs you.”

“No, he needs you.” Steve replied, his voice remaining even. “And I realize that now. I didn’t know how much he cared for you until that night. Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t tell me that you two got married.”

“That really surprised you?” I asked with a slight scoff. “After how you all treated me?”

“I’m not looking for a fight.” He held up his hands slightly. “I’m just wanting to fix things.”

It was silent for a moment, and I let out a small sigh as I nodded in agreement. We were both in agreement for at least this one thing. While I did care for Steve and the others like family before this mess, all I cared about now was making sure Bucky was cared for and supported. In order to do so, we had to work together.

“Is Sam in town?”

“He is.” Steve nodded. “I’m thinking he might be able to help best since he was nutural in this whole thing. Just talk things over with him. If it doesn’t work, we can figure something else out.”

“I agree.” I glanced at my phone, seeing a text from Bucky asking where I was. I began to rise from my place at the small table. “I have to go now. Let me know when Sam can come over to see him.”

“Wait.” Steve’s voice caused me to stop and I looked over at him. “I…I never gave you a chance to explain your side of things, and for that, I’m sorry. I should not have treated you the way that I did.”

I looked at him evenly, my heart aching in my chest at the memories of the day prior to my attempt and Bucky’s hospitalization. After a few moments of silence, I gave him a sad smile. “If you want to know what happened, look at the Tony’s camera feeds from that day. The journalist stopped me at the front entrance to the building so you should have clear audio. It’ll tell you all you need to know.”

And without another word, I grabbed my purse and made my way back towards my apartment.

===========

Bucky’s POV

It had been odd waking up without Y/N by my side. That had been all but established as part of our routine, early mornings spent together in bed. But for some reason that had been broken on a random Tuesday, and part of me wanted to investigate why.

But her return only an hour later had washed all my worries away and our regular life routines resumed as normal for the next week. Part way through the week, Y/N had left the apartment to run a few errands so I was left on my own on the couch watching reruns of ‘The Office’. But a sharp knock on my door interrupted my plans of relaxation.

I approached the door, assuming that Y/N had forgotten her key inside after I had locked it behind her. But the familiar face of Sam Wilson surprised me as I found him on the other side. “Sam?”

“How’ve you been, man? “ Sam smiled.

“How do you know where I live?” I returned a smile hesitantly, wondering if the others had sent him as one last resort to connect.

“I saw Y/N on the street.” He replied casually, and my shoulders relaxed slightly. “She thought it would be a good idea for me to visit!”

“Of course. Come on in.” I stepped aside, letting him into our apartment and shutting the door gently. “I haven’t heard from you in months. Where have you been?”

“Long term mission abroad.” Sam sighed, sitting down on the couch. “It was quite an interesting experience. But not as interesting as finding out you moved out of the compound. What happened?”

I froze slightly at his words. “Did Steve send you?”

“Can’t I just be concerned about my friend?” Sam replied, scoffing slightly.

“I’m not saying you can’t.” I snorted, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “But this feels like an interrogation. I have had enough of those to last a life time.”

“I did speak to Steve, but he only gave me a few details. But I also don’t want to hear just one side. I want to hear from you.” Sam replied, glancing at me. “You two are incredibly close and now you live far apart from each other. What happened?”

All that had happened began to play again through my mind. The article published, the attitude shifts from the others, the gunshot to my shoulder, finding Y/N with the medicine bottle in hand. It was almost too hard to handle. But I willed myself to speak, telling my friend all that had happened.

“How can I forgive him for this?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly. “How can I forgive all of them for this? They did not give her a chance to explain herself, and made her feel like she was worthless. I could’ve lost her forever.”

“How does Y/N feel about this?” Sam prompted gently.

“She wants me to reach out to Steve.” I sighed, sinking back into the couch. “I don’t know how she can forgive him so easily, after all that has happened.”

“Y/N talked to me too, Bucky.” My eyes flickered over to Sam, surprised by his words. “She is worried about you, deeply. “

“I’m doing just fine.” I scoffed, but slightly concerned by his words. How had I not known she was worried about me?

“So you say.” Sam replied, almost skeptically. “Don’t you miss everyone? Steve at least?”

“Of course I have!” I bristle slightly, my metal fist clenching slightly. “But how do I move on from this?”

“I know you can’t immediately forgive the others for this, and that is understandable.” Sam spoke firmly. “But you can’t stay this angry forever. It will destroy you.”

“I can be as angry as I damn well please!” I snapped, glaring at him. “They almost caused her to end her life!”

“Bucky-“

“No!” I rose from the couch, a wave of rage flowing over me. “You don’t get it, and why would you? It wasn’t your wife!”

“No, but she is my friend!” Sam did not move, keeping his gaze steady with mine. “And she is scared that she is losing you, Bucky!”

“I need you to leave.” I shake my head, walking to the door and pulling it open. “Now.”

Sam clenched his jaw slightly but did not respond as he rose from the couch before walking to the door. Just as he was about to step through into the hall, Y/N appeared with a handful of grocery bags in hand. Her smile of greeting faded as she sensed the tension in the room. “What’s-“

“Please leave, Sam.” I repeated firmly, watching him leave before shutting the door behind him. “Why did you invite him here?”

“Maybe because he’s one of your friends and you could use a visit from one?” Y/N walked into the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter before turning to me. “Why did you throw him out of our apartment?”

“Because everyone is insisting that I must forgive Steve!” I snapped, my jaw clenched. “I can’t even fathom how you can stand the thought of him!”

“Bucky, I still haven’t forgive him yet! It’s too hard!” I shake my head as I watched him through pained eyes. “But I’m not as angry anymore. You can’t let this anger consume you!”

“I heard the exact same thing from Sam.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I can be as angry as I want!”

“Bucky…”

“Did you coordinate this with Sam? Steve too?” I scoffed, not even hiding my anger anymore. “Why are you working with the people who want you dead?”

Y/N’s face went blank for a moment before her eyes filled with hurt. Deep hurt. I had never regret speaking as I quickly as I did in that moment.

“Alright.” Her voice was quiet, trembling slightly as she picked up her purse from the counter. “Dinner’s on the counter. I’m going to go stay somewhere else for the night.”

“Y/N…” My voice cracked as I reached out to grab her hand, but she slipped away from my touch and out the door, slamming it hard behind her.

I walked over to the couch, sitting back down quietly before the first tears began to fall. I could not remember when they stopped, if ever. Perhaps the anger had already destroyed me. And perhaps I had already lost the love of my life because of it.

=====

TAGLIST (from the last part! If you wanted to be added or removed, just let me know lol)

@missvelvetsstuff

@erinallene

@ladyalexandranna

@angelwatson

@buckyalpine

@ada728

@bwhitewolfbarnes

@kjah97

@ineverybreathofyou

@sarbear94

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #buckybarnes #buckyxreader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #buckybarnesimagine

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atzfilm · 1 year

Text

stranger. (m)

– hybrid tiger!yeosang × f.reader [19.9k]

– smut, angst

– an aspiring vet student, you take a volunteer job at the local circus. you enjoy it, until you notice how odd the tiger is acting. how his eyes follow you, watch you. wait, did he just nod when you asked him a question?

– content: starvation, blood, inaccurate vet procedures, circus (the mc does not condone it at all), miscommunication, injuries, death mentions, breeding kink

– no part two!!

You stare at your thesis, picking at your hair. It’s pages long; filled with theories and hypotheses on how you can better the animal science industry, changing a whole portion of the structure. You’ve been working on it for months on end, trying your best to perfect the numbers and hopefully, presenting it to your dream graduate school.

“Still working on that paper?” San asks, holding two cups of coffee in his hands. He passes one off to you and you thank him with a tip of your baseball cap, taking a sip. You nod at the taste, eyes flicking up to him.

San’s your lab partner and your best friend, a constant by your side. He plops down next to you, glancing at your textbook. “You’ve been at it all day, time to take a break.” He pulls at his coat, tosses it across the bench next to the two of you.

“Can’t. It’s due in a few months, San. Every minute wasted is a moment that I’ll only regret. And don’t you have yours to work on?” You gesture to the space in front of him piled with research mimicking yours. He glances at them, letting out a deep sigh.

Adjusting his glasses, he begins organizing. “I do, but I know when it’s time for me to take a break. Like you, right now.” He pulls your papers away from you as you groan, lazily reaching for your documents. He gives you a pointed look, putting them back into your bag.

“Take a break, seriously. Those bags under your eyes are getting a bit too hard to look at,” he glances at you once, before beginning to pile his things away. “Why don’t you go and look at the local circus? I know you’ve been trying to shut it down for a while, so might as well see what’s really going on there.”

“It’s too obvious with these clothes on. They’ll never let me in,” You glance down at your lab coat, a pout on your lips.

“I honestly don’t think that would change much. They take the money they can get. We aren’t exactly a tourist town.”

You expressed your concerns to San constantly about the unfairness of your local circus, the animals there under the eyes of people who could care less about them. Even though there’s nothing you can do about it, you’re still stuck on it. There’s no reason for them to have exotic and big animals in there, and you’re sure their licenses are way past expired. But you know that despite it all, deep down you’re afraid; confrontation makes you queasy and you try your best to avoid it at all costs.

“Don’t you want to change the animal industry?” San points out, taking another sip of his coffee. He winces at the flavor, glancing inside the cup. “Tastes like pure grind.”

You switch with him, tasting him. Moaning in contentment, you pass him yours. He takes a sip, and nods, continuing to drink.

“What if they call the police on me or something?”

“Doesn’t your old crush Jongho work at the station?” San asks, and you feel the heat coming to your cheeks. “It’ll be fine then. He gets a boner just from looking at you, so I’m sure he’ll let you off the hook.”

“He does not get a fucking boner, you pervert,” You grumble, and San merely shrugs.

“He stumbles through his words like we’re in elementary school, and always blubbers something about doughnut puns since he’s a cop. It’s a bit embarrassing if you think about it.”

You hit his shoulder lightly and he laughs, wiggling his brows.

You sit on one of the benches, your coat tucked into your bag as you wait for the show to start. It’s against your morals to give anything to this piece of crap place, but your “of the moment” investigative journalism relies on you getting the scoop without being spotted. And San insisted that sneaking inside the local circus would only make matters worse, you begrudgingly agreeing. Jongho can’t save you from a bad reputation.

You’re in the far back, surrounded by dozens of people too tired from their long drives, probably seeking some reprieve from their loved ones or their stir crazy children. You listen to the cheesy music as you flick through your phone, waiting for the show to start.

Your town sits between two big cities. It’s unnoticed by the biggest television network near you, always skipped over in the weather forecast and news briefings. You’d think it didn't exist if you didn’t live here. A big reason why you’re ready to leave this silly town of yours, and see something different and new.

Since you were young, your neighbors sparingly moved away; everyone knew everyone. Being left alone was and still is, not an option. All of your partners and crushes know one another, and you never get away from San; you two are literal peas in a pod. San shares your dream of seeing the door out of this place and living a life being unknown, being able to walk down the street without saying hi to a familiar face every five seconds. The big city is the place you both want to go, and becoming a doctor seems like a big way out.

The lights dim, sliding your phone into your pocket.

The ringmaster walks out, introducing himself as Kim Hongjoong. You’re not sure if he and the Kim Family that dominates your town are related, but you keep an eye out for him, taking small notes. He’s too far away to pick out his face, but you watch in silence. Acrobats and gymnasts of all types jump and twirl around the stage, and you can’t help but respect them. It takes great strength to move their body that way.

The animals finally come out, and you lean forward, narrowing your eyes. You curse yourself for not taking a seat closer, but you digress. Monkeys play tricks for the audience who laugh in delight. You watch the dog trainer let the dogs jump and play, and the lights dim even more.

“And now it is time for our showmaker, our South Chinese Tiger!” Hongjoong shouts, taking a step back. A cage rolls out, and you tense up.

A‌ loud roar erupts throughout the crowd as a child cries. The tiger comes out with a chain around his neck, looking around the crowd. It’s huge, and it makes you wonder if it’s actually the breed that he said. They’re rare; it’s impossible and illegal to own one on your own. You see the tremors of its body, performing the tricks the trainer asks of it. You watch as the rest of the patrons leave once it ends, the laughter and music fading. Your eyes flick to a tent that says animals. You can hear San’s voice in your ear right now, telling you that this is definitely a bad idea and you should just go. But your curiosity cannot be tamed, and you need to know what’s exactly going on.

You stand outside the tent, your heart pumping in your ears. You hear the yelling of the man who takes care of the animals, loud sounds as he bangs something against the cages. You hear the monkeys squeal and whine, but surprisingly, you don’t hear the growl of the tiger. After a few moments of silence, you peek into the area, eyes flicking around for any movement of people. Making sure the coast is clear, you pull back the flap slowly, softly, closing it behind you.

You look at the tiger’s cage, surprised to see that his eyes are on yours, unmoving. You know not to antagonize him, flicking your gaze away and holding up your hands in submission. A small grunt falls from his lips, and he rests his head back down. You see the scars that cover his cheeks, the number 69 stamped into the side of his coat. You take slow steps as he watches you, making sure not to alarm him.

“What’s your name, big guy?” You ask softly, glancing around. Your eyes land on the metal plate on the bottom of his too small cage.

Yeosang.

"What are you doing here?"

You move away from the cage quickly, turning to see whoever showed up. It's a younger man, holding a small hose in his hands. He stares at you warily, covered in dirt from head to toe. He must be one of the assistants at the circus; hat and the blond hair dripping with what you can only assume is sweat. He shrugs off the hose, slowly walking towards you.

"The show closed a while ago, lady. No free behind the scenes shit."

You glance at the tiger, and his eyes are still resting on yours, as if he's waiting for you to make the next move. You hold your hands up in surrender, shaking your head.

"No, I'm not here for a free show. I saw your tiger—" You hear a low growl from the cage— "Yeosang, and I just noticed how malnourished he is, along with the other animals."

You look at Yeosang's side, his breaths quick but steady. The outline of his ribs worry you; he has to be getting way less food than he's supposed to. Tigers eat, a lot. Several pounds a day. But from the dull color of his fur and tired gaze, you can only assume that he's been given much less.

"And what's it to you? Are you the feds or something?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. "You need a warrant before coming in here."

"No, no. I'm a vet student. I'm in my last year. I'm not from the government or anything like that."

He crosses his arms against his chest. You listen to the monkeys shriek as he takes you in. Holding out a hand, he twirls his fingers in a give me motion.

"Show me your school identification."

You thank the heavens that you left it in your pocket instead of in the car like you usually do. You take it out, placing it in his hands. He looks at the ID, flicking his eyes between it and you. Passing it back to you, he sighs, scratching the hairs that fall from his cap. He glances at the animals for a moment, before speaking.

"They're beautiful, aren't they? But unfortunately, the head man doesn't care too much about their health. Just wants them to perform a little dance and sit in these tiny ass cages at the end of every show. Poor animals are probably plotting their escapes everyday."

His eyes flick to you. "I don't like the way they're treated either. But the only thing I can do is try to get some food in them and rinse them off. They probably haven't gotten their shots either." He takes off his cap, resting it on one of the standing posts.

He gestures to the tiger. "That boy there's been bred in captivity and hasn't seen the wild one day of his life. Too young to even remember his parents. And you don't see much of his species around here, or anywhere, really. South China tigers don't exist in the wild anymore."

So Hongjoong is telling the truth. He doesn't look like any of the tigers you've treated, but you just couldn't pinpoint which one he is. But those words falling from this man's lips, he is in fact, a rare tiger. One of the types that are sold on the black market for millions of dollars. And here he is rotting away in a too small cage, performing at a local zoo.

"He seems to have grown attached to you though. Never let someone that close to his cage except for me without throwing a fit. You must be good." Blondie smiles at you, cheeks plump. "Nice to meet you, by the way. My name is Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, but I hide the surname for people I don't know."

He holds out his hand, and you take it, shaking it lightly.

"Then why tell me?" You ask, and he clicks his tongue before speaking.

"Yeosang trusts you, so I do too."

Wooyoung goes through the procedures of what he does to treat the animals on a day basis; from their early meals, to exercise, to the end of shows. You're not sure how he even has time for himself since he's always here, the only trainer that's able to be this close to Yeosang without getting their arm bitten off. Without years of education in animal medicine, the knowledge that he has impresses you to the highest degree. He's even more educated than some of your classmates. But he explains softly that he doesn't get paid much, and he can only do with what he has in taking care of them.

"The city controls this circus. They know that our animals need more, but are too frugal and never mention it to anybody. I bet if those animal people came in they'd have a riot." Wooyoung cleans the bottom of an empty cage, monkeys watching him as he does so.

You feel Yeosang's eyes on your back but you don't turn to look at him. He's a bit strange from other ones you've interacted with, more solemn and quiet. Even the slow flip of his tail is different. But you're sure he's just curious about a new visitor, and nothing more than that.

Probably.

“We’ve been looking for more help around here,” Wooyoung mumbles, wrinkling his nose at a bit of grass one of the primates throws at him.‌‌‌ A quick point of his finger, he turns to you. “The rest of the animals don’t really need much work, but Yeosang is a bit of a mystery. He’s not too old, but he acts like a grumpy old man.”

Yeosang huffs in response, turning around in his cage. Wooyoung looks on in amusement as he gives his caretaker his back in defiance. Wooyoung looks back at you, grabbing his hat and placing it back on his head.

“I know you must be busy and all, but Yeosang needs another caretaker other than me, you know?‌ On my days off, no one dares go over to him, except for tosses of some raw meat at him and water. Not really taking care of him? I think he’s only really taken care of when I'm around. I‌ don’t think they fed him when I was gone for two days. He looked almost sickly.”

Wooyoung looks at the tiger in pity. “Even though he sleeps most of the day, he still needs food. They treat him like he’s worse than an animal, it’s disturbing.”

“Have you done anything to try and stop it?”‌ You ask, and Wooyoung looks at you sharply.

“What can I do? I’m only a lowly assistant, nothing I say would faze them. I went to the county and the sheriff, but all he did was kick me out and said mind my own business. These government people only care about the money in their pockets, they don’t care about the animals. Not like we do.”

He tilts his head. “We don’t know much about each other, that’s why I think when you come and volunteer, I can be there to watch you take care of him. At least for the first few weeks. After that, I can finally take a bit of a vacation.” Wooyoung grins widely.

You can see that he’s been trying his best to take care of them, but being a one man show could only work for so long. He’s young. You don’t know much about him, but from the passion in his eyes as he speaks about the animals, you think that’s all you need to know. It’s not his fault that he doesn’t have the resources to test and take care of them. And if you think about it, you don’t have the resources either. But helping him with the care, you’re not sure if you have the time.

Your thesis is due soon, and it takes up most of your free time. You usually have about five minutes in the day to eat dinner or chat with San. But you can see the defeat in Wooyoung’s eyes, the pure exhaustion. No one that young should look that way. He’s probably the same age as you, and looks like he’s been through Hell and back.

You nod.

“I can help you when I can. I go to school during the week, but I‌‌ can help a couple of hours a day, and during the weekend.”

His smile almost cracks his face at how wide it is.

“Did you hear that, Yeo?” Wooyoung yells, seeing the tiger’s ear twitch at his voice. “We got a new caretaker just for you buddy!”

You giggle softly at his excitement. Wooyoung finishes up his job, whistling softly at Yeosang. The tiger turns to look at him, tail still moving slowly. His eyes move to look at you. It’s a bit strange how human his eyes are, scanning yours with curiosity beyond your comprehension. You can’t quite understand how people can treat animals so harshly when they hold your eyes with such intelligence.

His large paw scratches the bottom of the cage, claws making you wince. They’re a bit overgrown; he’s supposed to have scratching posts around his cage, but it’s so small that all he can do is walk in a circle. You wish that you could do something, anything, to help him. But you suppose that being here is enough for now.

“See you later, bud. Gotta show y/n around the tents for a bit, before taking one off.” Wooyoung waves you to follow him. You take one last look at Yeosang, before closing the flap behind you.

Wooyoung walks you around the premise, introducing you to members of the circus that walk past. You see a man with bright pink hair waving at you from the top of a pole, balancing on one leg as he eats his dinner. His eyes are soft as they watch you continue on. You later learn that his name is Yunho.

Wooyoung peeks his head inside a trailer, groaning at what he sees.‌ A head full of hair pops out. He winks at you, reaching out and pressing his lips against the back of your hand. He’s the ringleader; Hongjoong. You can see he’s quite a seducer immediately upon hearing Wooyoung calling you a doctor. Wooyoung has to drag you away from him, scolding him as he does so. You’re still not sure if he’s related to the Kim’s, but at the moment you’d rather not dwell on it.

The other faces blend amongst each other, until he finally reaches the back entrance of the fairground. He leans against the fence, adjusting his cap again.

“You can come right after the performance, if you have time tomorrow.”‌ His eyes widened before taking out his phone. “Ah, can you put your number in here?” He hands you his phone and you type it quickly, giving it back to him. He nods slowly, tucking it back into his pocket.

“Thanks,” You start, and he raises a brow, “For not calling the cops on me.”

Wooyoung shrugs. “Eh, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Yeosang hasn’t eaten yet,” He winks at you, and you laugh. “I’m happy you agreed to join, Dr. y/n.”

You wave him off, your face getting warm. “Not a doctor yet. But close.”

“Close enough for me,” He turns back, waving at you. “See ya later, doc!”

He disappears into the tents, leaving you at the back entrance. You let out a small chuckle, before turning around and walking back. That night, you dream about honey eyes staring at you in the middle of the forest.

“A circus? You’re working at the local Kim circus?” San scoffs, shaking his head. “You know how they treat animals there, y/n.‌ It’s not a good idea to involve yourself in something like that. It’ll only lead to bad endings. One day they’re going to get raided and you’re going to go to jail.”

“Love that optimism,” You mumble, sipping on what had to be tenth coffee. “Not digging the vibes, San. You’re sounding a bit too much like those prep kids in our senior year bio class.”

“I’m sorry,”‌ he says, staring at his textbook in front of him. “I just don’t want to see you being in some shady shit. I know you want to save the animals, but sometimes you have to save yourself.”

“Choi San.”

You put your coffee to the side.

“You can’t say that when you’re the one who stopped in the middle of the highway, blocked three lanes of traffic with your body only, so that you could pick up a turtle and let him go into the river.”

He looks at you from his textbook, disgruntled. “That was necessary and you know it!"

You raise an eyebrow. “Say that to the thousands of people on that highway. I’m pretty sure you’re being sued right now by the state.”

He waves you off. “No, it’s the city. But that’s besides the point,” San pushes his book to the side, eyes on yours, “It’s weird. The only people who go to that stupid animal zoo are the tourists who stop in our town for some medallions at Jongho’s dad’s tourist trap shop. I know you want to save the world, I do, but some things are just too risky. Even more risky than me stopping three lanes of traffic.” He points out.

“San, this circus is like my turtle. I have to take care of those animals, I‌ won’t be able to live with myself if I‌ told Wooyoung no, and left him alone to fend for himself. They need someone in there who has some semblance of a clue on what they’re doing. And I know I’m not certified yet, but I‌ can still assist.”

San sighs loudly, leaning back in his chair. Before you can tell the clumsy man how bad of an idea that is, the chair cracks, and he falls backwards to the floor. People in the coffee shop look at him for a moment, before getting back to their posh coffee talks.

You lean over the table, looking down at your best friend. He gives you a sheepish look, before getting back to his feet. You hold back your grin as he situates himself, sitting back down in his spot.

“Is there any way I’ll convince you to say no?”

“Absolutely not.”

He frowns. “Well, at least take care of yourself, yea? Make sure that this is strictly volunteering, without pay. Don’t need anyone coming after you and saying that you’re accepting payment from this place,” He mumbles, adjusting his glasses.

Your phone vibrates, and you glance down at the message.

(unknown): show just finished. whenever you're ready, Yeosang needs his cage cleaned. already moved him out of the oc, so lmk if you're coming in.

You look at San. He’s right; if the town or better yet, the government decides to raid this place, it’s a big possibility that you may be somehow intertwined in politics that surround the death trap. You sigh, knowing what you’re going to say anyway. San’s right, you are soft.

(you): be there soon!‌ just have to finish up some assignments.

He messages back quickly.

(blondie): oh you actually gave me the right number? good. I'll see you soon. ^0^

You snort, tucking your phone back in your pocket. San shakes his head at you, but you ignore his pessimism. You want good energy, not the negative vibes he’s sending your way. You pack up your things, blowing him a kiss before kicking the door open to the shop, excited to see how your first day goes.

"Ah, y/n! You came back!" You turn your head to the bright voice, Yunho smiling at you. He's not on the top of a pole, stretching as he eats a granola bar. His eyes flick to the books in your hand. "Just came back from school, I presume?"

You nod quickly. "Yup. Work hard, get smart?" You mentally slap yourself. Yunho snorts, holding out his bar to you. Your eyes flick to his legs, noticing that he's doing a split, unfazed at your gaping mouth.

"Want some?" He waves it again, and you shake him off.

"Do you know where Wooyoung is? He told me to meet him, but I don't have the slightest idea where."

He nods, pointing behind him. "He's cleaning up the main tent, but you can just go into the animal arena. Pretty sure he wants you to be there anyway. Be careful of the poop, though. The monkeys have been out of it today. Almost got some in my hair." He touches his strands with a pout on his lips.

You thank him, walking quickly through the fairgrounds. You try your best to blend into the crowd, but your plain clothes are obvious among the colorful attire of everyone else. Many people you met yesterday give you soft hellos and smiles, and some you didn't stumble across look at you with curiosity, wondering who you are.

You slip into the tent, closing it softly behind you. Your eyes look around, dropping your books on the steps just before the sand. Animals turn to you lazily, before going back to whatever they're doing. Yeosang looks up from his spot, tail tirelessly swaying back and forth. He seems to examine your figure, eyes still sleepy. He's in the smaller cage, his bigger one a mess on the inside.

"Don't mind me, boy. Just here to help clean your cage." You glance around, and notice a broom and picker on the left side of the tent. You grab it and walk into his cage, sweeping. You feel the tiger's eyes on you the whole time; what sounds like purrs rumbling in his chest. You know that big cats couldn't purr even if they wanted to, but it's interesting to listen to him.

"So, how was the show?" You ask as you gather his droppings in a pile, glancing over at him. You're not sure why you expected him to say something but you hear a slight huff, his head dropping onto his paws. "Not good, huh? Well, I'm sure tomorrow will be better. There's some parade coming through, so there will probably be a lot of people for you to entertain."

He doesn't seem to like that idea, blinking slowly before closing his eyes.

"Yea, yea I get it. But there's nothing I can do, you know? I'm just here to help, I can’t stop the circus," you glance around the clean cage in pity. He's probably craving the vast fields to run in, desperate to hunt and be free. But he's stuck in this small cage, stuck performing to people who couldn't care about what condition he's in.

You hear the hose turn on, and you turn back quickly, seeing Wooyoung appear. He's wearing all black, hat still flipped around. He nods at you, winking at Yeosang.

"Good afternoon, y/n. Surprised you got here before me," he says, passing you the hose. You thank him, slowly rinsing away the mildew and other buildup that sticks to the bars of his cage.

"How was today's show?" You ask, and Wooyoung rubs the back of his head.

"If I'm being honest with you, big guy over here was a bit lazy. Didn't want to move at all, and the head man is a bit mad about it," Wooyoung takes a step closer to you. He glances over at Yeosang, before speaking. "Talking about putting the poor animal down. I tried my best to convince him otherwise since every person had a bad day, even tigers like our Yeosang."

“Hongjoong?” You ask, and Wooyoung raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“No, the only thing Hongjoong is in charge of is that trailer of his. Be thankful for only that.” Wooyoung turns back to Yeo. "Right, big boy? Just a bad day, huh?"

Yeosang flicks his tail in response, eyes still closed.

"Could they do that? Aren't there laws since he's an endangered animal? This can't be legal—"

"It's not," Wooyoung mumbles. "He's not sick or has a deadly contagious disease. He's not perfectly healthy, but his problems don't affect anyone or anything else. I honestly have no clue what to do," He looks at Yeosang, worry in his eyes. "Big guy is the only thing I look forward to everyday. Can't see the circus without him."

You feel terrible. Being a vet student, you know that you sometimes have to make the ultimate decision and put the animal down, for mercy. But seeing an animal that just needs a bit more food in his system being killed for simply being tired, or in a mood... It's irresponsible. The doctors at your college would have a fit.

Wooyoung and you fill up his water tub and food. You're a bit surprised at how nonchalant Yeosang is. Usually tigers would immediately smell the scent of the meat and pace around, ready to chow down. But he barely flicks an ear, head still resting on his paws. You move out of the cage as Wooyoung opens it up, moving the large barrier between you, and the tiger. He taps on Yeosang's cage as a warning, opening the small gate.

Yeosang opens his mouth in a long, loud yawn, slacking his lips together as he drags himself back to his cage. He walks past the meat, sitting in the far corner of the cage, dropping his head back into his paws.

Wooyoung sighs.

"I don't know what's up. He's been like this since you left yesterday. Not wanting to eat, to do anything. He looks a bit brighter since you've shown up, but..." Wooyoung taps on the cage. "Yeo, eat the food! There's not much around here these days."

Yeosang's ear flicks to the sound of his name, but he does nothing to move to the raw meat, breathing in and out slowly. You don't see anything odd about his vital signs, at least from where you're standing. You take a step closer to the cage, tapping lightly on the metal. Maybe talking to him would work? You know it's a long shot, but he seems to listen to Wooyoung when he wants to.

"Yeosang?" You say, and his ear twitches. "You haven't eaten all day, you know that's not good for you.“ You walk a bit closer to his cage, hands inches away from the steel bars lining his cage. His eyes open, breathing in and out slowly. “Why don’t you take a bite? For me?” You ask softly.

Wooyoung snorts behind you. “Don’t think that’ll work, y/n. He's stubborn. Never really listens to anyone but his thoughts.”

Yeosang huffs slowly, tail flicking. You point at the food, rubbing your hands together as you plead for him to eat something. He watches you for a moment, before shaking off his fur, standing and walking to the meat. He looks at you, and you nod. He takes the meat, turning and walking into the corner again.

You cheer, pulling your fist down in excitement. Wooyoung rolls his eyes at you, pointing to the other cages.

“Time for some monkey shit.” He mumbles, and you give him a strained grin as he laughs at you, guiding you along.

Soon, the two of you are covered in sweat from the manual labor. Wooyoung tosses you a wet towelette and you thank him, wiping off your forehead. Yeosang is fast asleep, ear twitching ever so often. The other animals are sleeping as well as Wooyoung walks around, dimming the lights. He gestures for you to follow him quietly in which you do, not noticing the glow of yellow eyes watching as you go.

You close and lock the door behind you, letting out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung shakes his head at you, guiding you along the grounds.

“You’ll get used to it. Animal shit sticks to you after a while,” He mumbles, sniffing his clothes. His face scrunches up at the smell, and you giggle. The smell of crap is everywhere around you, but Wooyoung never smelled like anything but hard labor.

“It’s not that bad, you always smell good, you know. Never like shit.”

You see the red rise to his ears as he looks away from you, saying nothing. You reach for your bags but he only glares at you, continuing forward.

“We’re having a welcome dinner for you. Can’t leave until you meet everyone.‌ And I’m not letting you carry these bags and books on your own. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me,” He explains.

“Thanks,” You say, and he gives you his cheeky smile, opening the flap of a tent. He holds it open as you dunk and enter, seeing everyone you’ve met and some unfamiliar faces across the table. They all say hello to you as Wooyoung introduces you.

Yunho waves, tapping the chair next to him. You thank him as you sit, Hongjoong across from you and Wooyoung sitting on your opposite side. Hongjoong winks, and you wink back, causing him to erupt with laughter. Yunho tsks at him, holding out a plate for you. You stare at the food in front of you, bowing again.

“Ah, stop thanking us. You’re one of the circus folk now, no need to bow.” Yunho eats his food happily, and this is the first time you’ve seen him sitting normally. “Plus, Wooyoung has a bit of a crush on you, so you’ll be in the family soon enough.”

He leans away from Wooyoung’s grabby hands, laughing loudly. Wooyoung mumbles some obscenities underneath his breath, shaking his head.

“I hate the performers,”‌‌ he grumbles, chewing on some rice.

“Thanks,” You ignore the glare Yunho shoots at you,“For inviting me into your family. It’s nice to see so many welcoming people,”‌ You grin at the people around you.

Hongjoong stands at that, “Ah, toast to the new lady!‌ Hopefully she’s here for more than a few days!” He laughs, and everyone follows along with him, tapping their plastic cups against one another. You laugh along with them, taking a sip.

Months pass by before you know it. Your free time is spent at the fairgrounds, already on friendly terms with everyone. Even Hongjoong, his teasing with you endless, and Yunho and his strange sitting positions. Once, you saw him hanging from ropes as he ate rice upside down. Wooyoung and you even text everyday, his feelings for you dissipating into more of a friendship. Although Yunho constantly insisted that Wooyoung was never over it, there aren't any signs that say otherwise. He hasn’t even asked you on a date.

You don’t mind it; schooling occupies most of your time.‌ San and you studied for hours on end, sometimes drooling onto your work into the early morning. And now, as you wait for your grades and acceptances or rejections to your graduate schools, you bite your lip, eyes on the computer. They said it would be released at ten a.m., and it’s already five minutes past.

“Relax,” San says, sipping his green tea. But you notice at how anxiously he taps his feet, eyes glued on his laptop. “It’s a lot of grades to put out at once, you know? They’re probably doing it in batches.”

Your laptop shakes on the table as San rocks his leg, and you glare at him over your shake. “How about stop shaking that leg so I can concentrate on the results, huh? You’re making my head hurt.”

He stops, offering you an apologetic look. You roll your eyes, refreshing your page again.‌ A gasp falls from your lips as you push your drink to the side, eyes glued on the screen. San comes over, looking at the laptop.

“Oh shit.”‌‌ he says, cheeks lifting into a grin. You both scream, pulling into each other’s arms and laughing loudly. There’s several people who shush the two of you, but you’re too excited to pay much mind.

San’s laptop dings as well, and he almost spills his tea at the results.‌ Another scream, and the waiters are telling you two to shut up before they kick you out. You grab your belongings, shoving it into your bag and running out with San.

“Holy shit, what the fuck-”

“Choi fucking San, we got accepted to the best vet school in the country. What the fuck?!” You scream, and pull each other into your arms again.

“Drinks?” He asks, eyes bright. You nod quickly, before you remember your volunteering. San sees the drop in your eyes. “Gotta go to the circus, huh?” He asks, tilting his head. “No worries, we can go another time.”

You bite your lip. “No. I’ll just text Wooyoung and tell him another time. We only get accepted into our dream colleges once in a lifetime. Can’t push that aside.” You say, wiggling your eyebrows at him before messaging a quick sorry to Wooyoung, before running off with San, screaming into the night.

“The university is only a few towns over,” San mumbles over his sparkling lemonade. You two sit in your living room, laughing at the TV while sipping non-alcoholic drinks. When San and you go out for drinks, it only means that you sit in your living room and drink whatever’s in the fridge.

“That means that technically, you don’t have to buy a new apartment. You can still live here and just commute,” he explains, but you shake your head, taking a sip of your water.

“Absolutely not. I know it’s more expensive, but being here any longer will only give me back cramps.” You mutter, rubbing your lower back for emphasis. San rolls his eyes as you continue. “And we dreamed of getting out of here, San, I don’t want to stay here longer than I have to.”

“What are you going to say to the circus then?” He asks softly.

You blink, putting down your cup. He’s right, and you’ve been trying to push that to the back of your mind. But it’s better to just tell Wooyoung and get it over with, rather than waiting until the very end to say something. He’d only be more annoyed with you if you waited until the last second. You’ll miss spending time at the circus, even if you won’t admit it out loud. They’ve become your home away from home.

Even the animals have grown to like you. The monkeys squeal in delight when you arrive, letting you groom them without much protest. Even Yeosang, the aloof tiger, lets you brush his hairs. He even licks your hand, even as you stick out your tongue in disgust. You haven’t seen them in a couple of days because of finals, but they’re always the highlight of your week. You’re not sure if you’d get over not seeing Yeosang anymore. You glare at San.

“Don’t make the mood drop, asshole.”

“Fine, but you know I’m right.”

“Yea, yea.”

Your phone rings, and you glance down. Furrowing your eyebrows, you answer it quickly.

“Hey Woo-”

“y/n, I need you here right now.” You can hear the panic in his voice, and you stand quickly, grabbing your coat as you listen to him. “Yeosang’s not listening to any of us, and he’s been avoiding food. He hasn’t eaten since you've last been here, and we all don’t know what to do. You're the only one that we thought we could call, and I know you're busy but we ran out of options.”

“It’s okay! I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Just hang on a bit, alright?”

He agrees and you hang up the phone, tucking it into your back pocket. San watches as you quickly pack up your things, grabbing your first aid. He stumbles from the couch, grabbing his coat as well.

“San, the tiger, is sick. He’s not eating and he’s probably acting really aggressive because of it. Wooyoung just called me and I have to go there-”

“I’m coming with you,”‌ San says simply. “It’ll be better if two almost-vets are there, rather than one. We can see what’s up with him and hopefully diagnose him.”

You send him a thankful look, running out with him close behind you.

You pull the flap to the side, eyes flicking around. His low growls fill the room, and you quickly walk over to Wooyoung. He stands there worried, glancing at you. His expression loosens slightly at your appearance, before flicking to San.

“Who’s the newbie?”

“San,” You say, “He’s here to help me figure out what’s wrong.”

You look at the growling tiger in question. His eyes narrow on you, flicking between you and San before settling on Wooyoung.

“He’s been like this for days. Never listening to us, going on and on and growling. I gave him a treat a few days ago, a deer, and it’s still in there. I tried grabbing it while he was sleeping, but he tried pouncing on me.”‌ Wooyoung rubs his arm, and you glance down, seeing blood run down his wrist.

You pull him to the side, taking out your human first aid. He scoffs, trying to pull away but you merely glare at him, pulling his arm back.

“You can’t just walk around a predator’s cage with a bleeding arm. And you know that this could get seriously infected, right?"

"Did you check his temperature? Usually tigers in the wild could last days without food, did you give him a big meal before?"

Wooyoung shakes his head, San looks at him curiously. You clean off Wooyoung's arm, putting small butterfly stitches on the wound.

"He's never attacked me before," Wooyoung says, eyeing San as he takes steps closer to Yeosang. He keeps enough distance as to not scare him, but you see the tenseness in his body as he keeps his eyes on your best friend.

"Yeo isn't one to fight. Thought he might have a bug or something."

"San, don't get any closer. Helooks like he wants to bite your arm off," You look at him, worried. "Yeo's a bit unpredictable right now, it's best to stay away until we figure it out."

Yeosang looks at you, then stares at you cleaning up Wooyoung. You don't see anything obvious on him, it's probably something that you just can't pinpoint with a look. You nod at Wooyoung, before walking over to San.

"Think it can be a bug or something?" You ask softly, staring at Yeosang as he walks away from the both of you, sitting in a small grass patch in his cage, flicking his tail quickly. He's anxious or annoyed, that much you can tell.

"When I got close to him, I didn't see any marks. And he would have been scratching if it's really a bug. His coat is in good condition and he seems much healthier than you last described. Maybe he's just in a bad mood? You haven't seen him in a few days, right?"

You roll your eyes. "He's a tiger, San. He doesn't care if I'm gone."

A roar erupts from Yeosang's mouth, clawing on the grass. San sighs.

"Seems like the big guy disagrees, huh?"

You look at the meat laying closer to the cage, and you grab it. Yeosang watches your every move, body still tense. He's never been like this with you, so you can't help but be confused at his actions. You know that he's healthy from what you can see, although you'd love to give him a shot and sedate, see if anything is physically wrong with him. But you don't have the luxury; only certified doctors carry that, and neither you or San is qualified.

You feel Wooyoung and San standing close behind you, and you turn back. "Guys, he's a bit anxious right now so I think it's best if you back up a bit. Give him some room to breathe."

The guys grunt at your words but follow your instructions, taking steps backwards. Once they're several more feet away, you look back at Yeosang. His movements are more calm now, and you sigh in relief.

"Hey bud. I know I haven't been here in a few days to see you. I'm sorry. I've been busy with school and all, but I'm here now okay? Why haven't you been eating?"

You hold up the meat in your hand. "I know you didn't eat much last time, but you gotta eat this, okay? It's good for you."

Yeosang doesn't move.

"I won't leave you again. I'll come by more often, alright?" You feel a bit guilty at your words, knowing you're leaving soon. But he can't read your mind, he's just an animal. "Just eat some food, okay? You gotta be a big and healthy boy for me." You glance back at the guys, and lean forward. "And you're my favorite friend, just saying. These guys behind me? Lame."

San snorts at your words. "I can't believe you're putting a tiger above me."

You put a finger to your lips, hushing him. You place the meat at the edge of the cage, sliding your hand between the bars before stepping back.

"Trust me, Yeosang. You need to eat, you can't starve yourself while I'm not here."

Yeosang huffs. You watch him as he shakes off his coat, slowly coming to the edge of the cage. He sniffs at the meat, before picking it up with his teeth and walking back. He chews on it, eyes flicking up to yours ever so often. You breathe in relief, turning back to the others. They stare at you, mouths agape.

"Are you some animal whisper?" Wooyoung says, eyes wide. "Can you speak to tigers?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Yeosang's not some ordinary tiger. All you have to do is speak to him like he's one of us and he'll listen. Hopefully over the next few days we won't see anything strange happening with him. I just think he was nervous." You shrug.

"Cause you were gone." Wooyoung says simply. "He's grown to be your right hand tiger, doc. Can't leave the circus now." Wooyoung grins.

San exchanges a look with you, before clearing his throat. "I'll be in the car if you need me, y/n. Let you guys talk it out."

Wooyoung raises his eyebrows in confusion as San quickly walks away, not before tripping over a rock as he does so. But he doesn't look back, quickly closing the flap behind him.

"Why is he in such a rush?" Wooyoung asks, shaking his head. "Your friend is strange."

"I have something to speak to you about, Wooyoung." You glance at Yeosang. "Outside, preferably."

Yes, he's a tiger. And yes, he doesn't know anything that you're saying and there's really no reason for you to speak outside because he wouldn't understand anyway. But those eyes are a bit too curious, it makes you wonder if he could comprehend every word that falls from your lips.

Wooyoung closes the flap behind him, arms resting against his chest as he looks at you. "Quitting?" He asks simply. "I know you have school, so I presumed this would have happened sooner rather than later."

You nod, rubbing the back of your neck. "I honestly didn't expect my favorite grad school to pick me, I thought I would've stayed at a more local college. But this one is too far away for me to come back and forth everyday." You look at him sheepishly. "I love working here, I do. But—"

"But you have a chance to have those big town dreams, darling. I’m not going to stop you from living your life, doc." His smile stretches across his cheeks. "Plus we're going to need your help when you get back. Yeosang is going to miss you while you're gone."

You don't have the heart to tell Wooyoung that you don't plan on coming back here. That you plan on staying as far away as you can from this town of yours, leaving it in the dust. And seeing Yeosang struggle with being separated from you for a few days, you're a bit concerned when he realizes that you won't be able to come back.

"Do you think I should tell Yeo?" You ask softly. Wooyoung purses his lips for a moment, before speaking.

"No. As you know, he's a big ol 'ball of sensitivity. Would probably starve himself until you come back. It's best to stay away and not tell him. Saying goodbye like normal isn't going to hurt though." Wooyoung looks down at his dusty shoes, trying his best to hold back his true feelings. He's grown attached to you being here so often, but it's not a shock that you're leaving. He just didn't expect it to be so soon. He thought he had more time to spend with you.

"I'll miss you, y/n. Really." He says, looking up at you. You see the blush rise on his cheeks but you say nothing. "You've been a delight around here; everyone loves when you pop in. And circus people are pretty picky. Including myself." He takes his cap off, clutching it between his fingers. "I thank you y/n. From the bottom of my heart and soul. You helped me take care of these animals, and without you, they would've been very ill. You are a caring and loving lady, and I know you will be an amazing veterinarian. I wish you the best of luck."

Shit. You can feel the tears tugging at the corners of your eyes, but you take a big breath, holding them back. It's too early in the night to cry.

"Thank you, Woo. Truly."

He winks.

—

The last couple of weeks go by quickly. You spend as much time as you can with Yeosang; watching him as he practices his tricks with his trainer and staying at almost every show. You can see that he's loosened up quite a bit, his roars less exhausted and more rambunctious. You giggle when he huffs and whines at Wooyoung, and brushes his coat while he's deep in sleep. You know it'll only hurt more when you leave him there, but you hope that he's not as attached as you are to him. Hoping that he just sees you as another trainer at the circus.

Hongjoong makes your farewell party in his style. Overdramatic, inviting every single person that has gotten into contact with you and more. You insist that he'd not throw one, but he ignored your pleas, confetti everywhere as you stared at him in annoyance. You've grown to love his crazy behavior, as much as you scold him for it. Yunho cries as you say your last goodbyes, pushing his head into your shoulder and letting out dramatic sobs. You only pat him and laugh, wiping away your tears. But separating from Wooyoung has to be the worst.

He holds his hand between his hands as you pull him into a hug, and you feel the trembling of his body as he tries to hold back his cries. You kiss his cheek and tell him that you'll message and call all the time, at least twice a week. He's become one of your best friends, and you're sure you won't even lose contact with him.

But the one encounter you aren't looking forward to is saying goodbye to Yeosang. You hold your breath outside of his tent, trying your best to control your face. He's an animal, yes, but he can sense when something is troubling you, and you'd rather not upset him. But sitting outside his cage as he sleeps only makes your chest clench.

"Hey, big boy Yeo," You whisper. You see his ear twitch, but he makes no move to open up his eyes.

"Gotta say goodbye. I won't be here for a few days because of... testing, but you better be a good boy for Wooyoung and the others. I'm counting on you to eat your food all the time, and not give any trouble. No temper tantrums, alright? I'll be back as soon as I can."

You close your eyes, feeling your voice begin to crack. "I love you, you know that right? You're my favorite tiger, Yeosang. No one can ever replace you. I'll see you in a bit, alright?" You stand, glancing one last time at your sleeping tiger, before jogging out, your sobs too much for you to hold back anymore.

—

"Already at my place! I'll see you when, next week?" San asks through the video call. You nod, munching on an apple.

You already packed up all of your belongings, just a few essentials before you leave for your new apartment. You've lived in this one your whole adult life, but you've decided that it's time to move on. Freshen up, and see the big world out there.

"Yup. Don't eat all of those candies your mom gave you, San. I'll fight you if you do."

"Kinky," he mumbles, and you roll your eyes. He laughs loudly, mentioning something about cleaning up before you say your goodbyes, hanging up the phone.

You put your phone on the charger, flopping yourself back into your bed, tossing the apple in the trash. It's been a few weeks since you've seen the circus, and your heart aches, but you don't dare to go back. Not when you know you'd probably want to stay.

You glance at time, rubbing your eyes. It's already almost midnight, and you still have a few things to unpack. But your head is throbbing and you're too tired to even think straight. You flick off the lamp next to your bed, throwing the cover over your face. Your eyes flutter close, and you hope that you can get think about that home renovator fucking you to Tuesday. But of course, nothing actually goes as planned.

The doorbell rings, and you let out a huff, screaming internally as you throw the blanket to the side and stomp to the door. Not bothering to even look in the peephole, you fling it open.

"What?"

Your eyes move up to the person standing there. Before you can yell again, he jumps into your arms, making you stumble backward into your apartment. The door shuts behind the two of you as you scream, enveloped in this man's embrace.

"I'm calling the police!" You scream, pushing him off of you. He falls back, landing on the floor.

You stay still, eyes on him. A light yellow, almost honey like color looks back at you. Scars cover his cheeks, and you see something on his neck. A tattoo, maybe? He's too far away to tell, and you'd rather not get close. He has a nose piercing, two small silver rings in his left nostril. His clothing is a bit small on him, shirt fitting like skin and pants high above his ankles. A distinct mark on his temple feels all too familiar. His eyes flutter, before his smile slowly goes away.

"Why did you leave me?" He asks simply.

"Get out of my house right now, and I won't call the police." You'd make a run for it, but you have no idea if he has a weapon on him.

His eyes look up at you, and you can't tell if it's mock innocence or not. He stumbles to his feet, your eyes flicking to something moving behind him. You tilt your head, and a tail appears. You stumble back, hitting your back on the counter.

"Shit," You curse, a small whine falling from your lips. You grab the pot from behind you, holding it out in defense as he moves closer. "I don't know who the hell you are, or why you're in my house, but you need to go. Now."

He shakes his head. "I can't go back there, y/n. Not without you. You left me without saying goodbye." Moist eyes look at you. "And you do know me. You're the one that's been with me for months, y/n. How can you forget me?"

You see his hair twitch, and you narrow your eyes. Fluffy triangles peek out of his long, soft orange locks. You blink quickly. No.

No fucking way are those ears.

"Who are you?" You say again, and he narrows his eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"How can you forget me so easily?"

His velvety voice rumbles through the room. He sighs, pulling down his shirt and turning his neck so you can see what's there. A sixty-nine is in his skin; burned into it rather than traditionally tattooed. You can see a faint outline of a scar that follows the dark letters. You only know one tattoo that looks the same as his, and you shake your head, hand trembling as you hold the pot.

"No, you can't be."

He smiles softly. "It is me. Why don't you believe me?"

The tail comes out, rubbing his thigh absentmindedly. You feel like your world is slowly ending as you take him in. You can't forget those eyes that stared at you with intelligence beyond just a simple animal’s. But it's not possible. This can't be Yeosang standing in front of you.

"What's your name?" You ask. "I need to know if it's really you."

"Yeosang." He says simply. "I am a South Chinese Tiger hybrid. I am half man, half beast. And you are y/n, the trainer that used to come in about three times a week to take care of me alongside Wooyoung. Although recently, she has left without a trace."

It's him. You know it's him from the mischievous look in his eyes, to the scars and markings across his skin that are too similar to ignore. He's your tiger. It all makes no sense but you can’t quite come up with another solution.

You drop the pot slowly. "How... How are you a human, Yeosang?"

He furrows his eyebrows, deep in thought. "I would rather not talk about that, if you don't mind." He has two sets of ears, the human ones on the sides, and the animal ones on the top. You can't help but stare at his animal attributes, too fascinated to continue to question him.

"Why didn't you say goodbye? You told me that you would never leave, y/n. You said that you would always come back. But then I heard Wooyoung talking to Yunho about you leaving the town, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to come and see why you're leaving me."

You hear the desperation in his voice as he looks at you. Your head is so confused; trying your best to process that your tiger is now a fully functioning human hybrid, and that he's standing in your apartment. And you can't help but notice the sharp edges to his features, the thick brows and clenched jaw line. You glance at Adam's apple moving before you shake your head. He's handsome.

Get out of your thoughts, you think.

"I never planned on staying there, Yeosang—"

"Don't call me that." He says sharply. "Call me Yeo."

You tsk. A low growl rumbles in his chest, and your eyes widen. "Yeo...?"

He sighs in satisfaction as you continue.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I always planned on going to the city for college, taking a job there and moving away from this town. I've hated it here. I can't stand being in this place. It makes me sick, if I'm being honest with you."

"This is our home," Yeosang says simply. "How could you leave our home?"

"Did you like being there, at the circus? Stuck in a cage all day, and then performing for people?"

His ears lower as he looks away, tail swaying slightly. "I am grateful that I'm not dead. Luxuries of open fields and hunting like a true beast are desires, but I've accepted that I'm not ever going to have that. And that's okay."

Your brain is foggy as you strain to keep yourself awake for the conversation. Yeosang seems to notice your tiredness as he looks at you with concern.

"You should rest, y/n."

"Are you going back to the circus?" You ask, and he raises his brows as if you'd asked a stupid question.

"Why would I do that? You're here, I'm not leaving you."

Oh no. You did not sign up to babysit a handsome tiger man, you're leaving for school. The last thing you need is the government coming to you and arresting you for holding back a rare creature. You rub your face, knowing that you won't refuse him because one; you're a punk and two; no one in their right mind would believe a word that you say about a hybrid tiger.

"Have you eaten today?" You ask softly. He furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought.

"No, but I can wait. I can wait until you're ready to prepare something else. I don't want to be a burden on you."

You shake your head. "No, I'll grab you something from the kitchen and we can figure out whatever's going on right now." You glance on your TV, flicking it on. "Do you mind waiting in here while I go and grab you something?"

He shakes his head, sitting softly on the edge of the cushions. He looks back at you with those curious eyes of his, before turning to the TV in front of him. You see his tail rest lightly next to him as his eyes focus on the late night cartoons.

You walk into the kitchen, grabbing some leftovers out of the fridge and heating them in the microwave. You sit on the edge of the counter as you wait, legs swinging back and forth slowly. It's too late to think about how Yeosang became what he is, or how he found your home. You're not sure if you want to tell San about what's happening; afraid that he'd only laugh and brush it off. You want to believe that the man in your living room is lying to you, but you know it's not true. That's your Yeosang, no matter how much you deny it.

The beep pulls you out of your thoughts, and you jump down, grabbing the food and a fork. You walk into the living room, eyes flicking to the TV. A news report is running, and you almost drop the food in your hands.

Local Circus Tiger Missing from Its Habitat.

Yeosang gladly takes the food from your hands as your eyes stay glued to the program.

"Trainer reports that he heard a large cracking sound before running into the tent, seeing the coveted rare South Chinese Tiger gone. The cage was in stable condition, and no one suspects that the tiger has left on his own. Since it is one of the very few left in the world, many suspect that it was stolen. Police are currently searching the area for a trace of where this tiger named Yeosang has gone. As a precaution, please stay in your homes and do not go outside unless absolutely necessary, in case this tiger is on the loose. If spotted, please contact the police immediately and do not engage. This is..."

You look at Yeosang as he munches happily, fingers scooping the food from the bowl without a care in the world. You sit next to him, making sure not to land on his tail. You've got a rogue tiger in your apartment, and the city is searching everywhere for him. You glance at Yeosang's ears, letting out a sigh.

He pauses in scarfing down his food, cocking his head towards you. His ears twitch as he looks at you. "No one will find me here." He explains. "I'm a human now, they can't tell it's me, you don't need to worry."

"Yeosang, you should go back." You say, and he freezes completely at your words. "Being here, with me... this isn't where you belong, Yeo. You deserve more than what I can provide. You need to go back home."

"That's not my home." He states simply, licking his fingers. You pass him a wet towelette, and he stares at it, before wiping his fingers.

"This isn't your home either—"

"Yes it is."

"Yeosang—"

"My home is where you are, y/n," he looks at you seriously. "You are my mate, I'm not leaving you. I can't leave you."

You blink quickly. Mate? There's so many meanings and ways to take that, but your lids are so heavy and you can't quite think straight this late. You rub your face, tapping your cheeks to wake yourself up.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow, alright? We both need sleep. Do you mind sleeping here? I don't have another bed for you, Yeo."

"Can I not sleep with you?" He asks, following you to the kitchen with the bowl in his hand. You point as he drops it, and instructs him on how to wash his hands. As he scrubs, you answer.

"It's... complicated. Humans don't do that with people they don't know well. It's kind of, for being together?" You're not quite sure how to explain it to him, since, as you're watching him scrub his hands, he's not exactly... Human. You grab his hand as you see him scrubbing a bit too hard, probably close to tearing his skin.

He looks at you in confusion. "Are we not together?"

"Not in that way." You say simply. You see the curiosity in his eyes but he doesn't push you further, nodding slowly.

"Do you have a cage that you want to put me in then?" He asks softly, eyes cast downward. You see his ears drop as he waits for you to guide him to one. How long has he lived as a tiger? It seems like he's never been a human, mind still stuck in his animal body.

You shake your head. "I'm not putting you in a cage, Yeo. You can use the blankets I have on the couch and sleep."

His ears perk up. "So no cage?"

"No cage."

His grin spreads across his cheeks as he pulls you into a hug, thanking you softly at your hospitality. You wrap your arms around him slowly, head tucked into his chest. He smells like rain mixed with the outdoors, natural and fresh. You pull away slowly, before gesturing to the couch.

"I'll be in my room if you need me. Don't do too much damage around here while I sleep, alright?"

He blinks slowly, before nodding. "I won't do anything like that to my trainer."

"I'm not your trainer anymore, Yeo. And you're a human now. You don't need anyone to own you or train you, alright?" You say sternly. He wiggles his head up and down quickly. You flick off the TV, whispering a soft goodnight to him before walking into your own room and closing the door slightly.

Your head is spilling over with how many thoughts you have, but your exhaustion hits deeper than curiosity, immediately shutting your eyes closed.

—

Yeosang stands in the living room, tail flicking around anxious as he stares at the couch in front of him. How do humans sleep? He hasn't been one in a while, and he's not too sure how to do anything. The strange look that you gave him when he was eating out of the bowl is enough to tell him that he's not humaning correctly. You're already fast asleep, your soft snores making his tiger ears twitch. He moves the blanket to the side, slowly lying his body down as he stares at the ceiling.

A part of him misses the smell of the tent; enveloped with the sounds of the other animals around him as he slept. Opening his eyes to see you almost everyday, taking care of him in every way that you could. The way your eyes brightened up when he followed an instruction you said without much effort on your part. How you called him your big boy, your eyes shining lightly on him. Ever since you've entered the tent he couldn't keep you out of his mind.

He used to wake up every morning, ready to follow the same routine. Wooyoung grooms him, feeds him, he performs, he eats again, and he sleeps. He cares for Wooyoung, but the repetitiveness of his life dragged on, and he isn't sure how long he's been doing that same thing. But hearing your laughter as you practiced your jokes on him, your soft cries after the stress of a test got to you, and your content gaze as you read a book to him. You've changed everything, and once you left; things weren't the same.

Wooyoung didn't tell him anything, not one word fell from his lips. Not even a mention that you won't see him again.

Yeosang rubs his face, pulling the blanket over his body. He's not sure how he'll be able to rest, knowing you're in the room next to him. He breathes in the scent of you in the fabric, comforting to his nose, calming his rising heart. Your mere presence makes his anxiousness go away; he's not sure if he'll ever be able to leave you. His mate.

His.

—

The bright sun shines down on you as you tighten your lids, letting out a strained groan before blinking slowly. You try to stretch, but a grip on your body keeps you in place. You blink once.

Twice.

His body is pressed against yours, soft breaths tickling the hairs on your neck. His grip on you is strong, your behind pressed up against him with no room for surprises. You feel his fingers resting just above your crotch, lightly holding you. Before you could turn around and yell at him for being in your bed, you feel it.

His morning wood presses lightly against your ass. You try pulling away, but he groans softly. His tongue drags across the skin below your ear, hips lightly humping you. You feel your face flush as he continues licking and pressing himself into you, hands slowly sliding lower. You finally struggle out of his arms, and his eyes lazily open, looking at the panicked look in your eyes.

He furrows his eyebrows, cocking his head. “y/n? Are you okay?”

“I… fine, I’m fine.”

He reaches out to you but you take a step back. His eyes flick to the small movement, pressing his lips in a straight line. “I’m sorry if coming into your bed made you uncomfortable. I didn’t see anything wrong with it, but I’ll try not to do it again.” He rubs the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “Where is the restroom?”

“Down the hallway,” You point, and he nods, dropping your blanket back on the bed. “There’s a blue toothbrush in there. Do you know how to do that?” You avert your eyes as you ask, the heat coating your cheeks.You hear him scoff softly.

“I’m a tiger hybrid, y/n. Not a child.” He disappears down the hallway away from you.

You grab your toothbrush off your side table, avoiding the bathroom and walking into the kitchen. As you brush your teeth over the sink, you stare out the small window, deep in thought. You’re not sure what to do. There’s only a matter of time before someone comes knocking on your door, and if they see Yeosang; tail and all, it’ll only lead to more questions with little answers. Neither of them you have to give.

“I wasn’t sure where to put the brush, so I left it on your sink,” Yeosang says, walking into the room. Thankfully, there’s no more boner, but you’re still annoyed. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” He confesses. “I should have controlled my instincts better, I’m no longer a full tiger.”

“Why did you come into my room?” You ask.

“I… I couldn’t sleep there alone. And your scent swirls in the air. It’s comforting, but that wasn’t enough. I needed to know that you were okay, so I followed where your scent was strongest and rested with you. I haven’t been a human in a whole, so I didn’t realize that something like this would offend you. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

You see the regret on his face as he looks at you, and you nod. He’s learning, he’s trying his best and you can’t fault him for that. “I forgive you. Just, next time ask if you can sleep with me, Yeo. I would’ve had a heart attack…” If you didn’t wake me up with your humping. But you think it’s best to not talk about it. If he doesn’t remember, then you’ll just forget about it. He’s still a tiger, after all.

You rub your neck, the feeling of him licking your skin still there. You glance at his tight clothing, shaking your head. “Let’s get you out of those clothes-”

Your doorbell rings, and you tense up. You look back at him, pointing to your room. “Close the door and stay in there until whoever it is leaves. Some of San’s clothes are in my drawers, just grab one of them, alright?”

Yeo widens his eyes, “y/n-”

You shush him, watching as he disappears, tail following behind him.

You open the door slowly, eyes glancing up. His brown hair is as messy as usual, a bright smile on his face as he tips his hat to you. His dimples shine at you softly. His belt rests low on his hips, and you glance at the police officer badge that rests on his chest.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, y/n.” He smiles at you, tilting his head. You like seeing him, but you have other crises to deal with. His eyes flick behind you for a moment, before looking back at you. “H-How are you?”

You raise an eyebrow at the stutter. “I’m good, how are you? Still dealing with Jihoon and his wife?”

Jongho rubs his face, sighing loudly. “He keeps on bothering that tattoo parlor guy, you know? And then he comes to us and talks about his wife, I don’t think the boys want to hear about it anymore.”

You giggle, shaking your head, “Well, hopefully he’ll stop soon. So, what’s up? Here to arrest me, sir?”

You see the blush creep up his neck as he laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and looking away, “Ah, you jokester. No, I presume you’ve heard about the missing tiger from the Kim’s Circus.”

Your blood runs cold as you try your best to keep a poker face as he continues.

“Yeoyang, I believe his name is?”‌‌ He frowns. “I’m not really sure, Wooyoung was in a panic and I couldn’t quite understand him. But then he mentioned you and I know you're doing that veterinarian thing, and-”

“You think I know where a thousand pound tiger is?”

"You know I have to check all of my bases," Jongho mumbles. "I know you'd never hide a tiger—" your eye twitches— "but I have to check anyway. Plus the guys at the station won't let me live it down if I didn't come up here." He looks at you sheepishly. "We haven't seen each other in a bit, do you mind inviting me in for some coffee?"

He tilts his head to the side, smiling softly at you. Any other day you would immediately say yes and invite him in, but from the loud drop in your room and thankfully, he didn't hear it, you have to resist his little dimples. You shake your head.

"I can't today Jong, I'm sorry. But maybe some other time? Raincheck?"

He nods quickly, smile never fading. "Of course! I didn't mean to bother you, I'll be on my way." He glances behind you again. "Call me if you see anything suspicious or get weird phone calls. Usually, there's someone who contacts people close to the animal and bribes in exchange for its safety. We can't have that, now, can we?"

You sense a shift in his tone as he looks at you. You've known each other for years, so he could probably notice that you're on edge, but just not know about what exactly. And you're thankful that Yeosang hasn't come out of the room.

"I'll tell you guys immediately, no questions asked."

"Good, well I'll see you around, y/n. Tell San I said hello!" He tips his hat once before turning around, walking down your steps.

You waved goodbye, closing the door softly. You hate to lie to him, and you honestly wish you could tell him the truth about Yeo. But it's best to be safe and not mention anything about him to anyone, unless absolutely necessary. Putting him in danger is the last thing you want to do. You wouldn't forgive yourself if he got caught or worse.

"Is he gone now?"

You jump at Yeosang's voice, turning to him. He stands there, soft yellow eyes narrowed as he looks at you. His face is scrunched up in disgust, eyes flicking over your figure.

"You smell like him," He moves a strand of hair away from your face. The featherlight touch of his fingers makes you shiver, his eyes still focused on yours. "Did he touch you?"

"No. And it doesn't matter if he did, anyway," You grumble, walking around him.

You don't see the way his jaw clenches, eyes closing to hold back his frustration. It isn't your fault; you don't know the meaning of a mate. Tigers usually have several in their lifetime, but he hasn't ever been moved by anyone other than you. And because of your human instincts, you don't even notice his advances. He thought it would be easier because you're a veterinarian, but it seems more complicated. He lets out a soft sigh, before following you to the kitchen.

"Where are you going to go after this?" You ask, drinking your water slowly.

He cocks his head to the side. "Where will I go? After what?"

You gesture to the boxes around you. "I'm moving out, Yeosang. I'm going to my graduate school soon. I can't stay here and babysit you."

His folded hands tighten slightly. "I'm not a baby, or a child. I am a hybrid y/n; just because I haven't been a human for long doesn't mean anything. I can take care of myself. I don't understand why you're being like this." He rubs his eyes, shaking his head. "You don't remind me of the y/n that took care of me. You seem distant."

Did he expect you to be filled with joy at seeing your tiger as a human? He's handsome, no doubt, but you have goals, things you want to do. And he's just a roadblock. You thought that you'd move on from the circus and explore bigger things. But him sitting there, tail resting behind him and two pairs of ears, all you can think about is the problems he brings you. Is that being selfish? Maybe. But you've been selfless your whole life. Caring about yourself once in a while is self care.

"I... Yeo—"

"Do you not respect me as a human?" His eyes widen as a realization hits him. "You've always been comfortable with telling me your feelings and ideas when I couldn't speak back properly, but now that I can, you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You are afraid of me,” his gaze flicks down to his hands, “You don't care for me the same way. Ever since I've walked into here, you've treated me like I am a stranger to you. I can see why this might be a bit scary, but I don't know if I can handle the space between us." He stands up, glancing around. You gave him some of San’s clothes that he left behind, and he wears it loosely on his figure, a bit too big on him. He closes his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. “I can leave.”

“Yeo-”

“I don’t want to be in a place where I’m not wanted, y/n. It’s okay, I’ll leave.” He nods once at you, before glancing down at his clothing. “I know you feel more comfortable with me not being able to say anything, and that’s okay. Your care is my utmost priority, and I was being foolish, not seeing it last night. I can hear your heartbeat and feel your anxiety, but I assumed it was just from excitement.” His lips twitch. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Yeosang, can you just listen to me for a second?” You say, your irritation growing. He stops talking, looking at you.

“This is all new to me, okay?‌ I don’t, I didn’t expect all of this to happen, alright? I never thought that you would ever be a human, and I’m honestly just confused and yes, I am afraid.‌ But not of you, just this situation. But I don’t want you to think I hate you or dislike you, because I‌ don’t. I just… I’m not sure how to deal with this. And yes, a part of me just wants you to disappear and go away. But now, I think, if you want, you can come with me to the city. My apartment has three bedrooms there, so you’ll be able to fit in there comfortably.”

His ears perk up at your words.

“I know it’ll take me a while to get used to you being you, and I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.” You smile at him softly. It’s been less than a day, but you’ve already grown a bit attached to him. It’s not like you want him to go, you’re just terrified. What if the people who made him half human, half tiger saw the news? They’re probably looking for him, and he could be in danger right now.

“It’s quite alright, and I wouldn’t mind going there with you.” He isn’t going to mention the mate thing for a while. He’s noticed that you avoid the topic. You haven’t even said a word about what happened this morning. “If you want me there.”

“I do.” You grin, and his tail flicks back and forth in excitement. More like a canine rather than a feline, but you’re happy that he’s happy.

His limbs twitch, wanting to pull you in a hug.‌‌‌ But he holds himself back, knowing that you’re not exactly comfortable with him yet. He glances around the room, before looking back at you. “So when will we be leaving?”

“In a few days.”

The few days passed by rather quickly, Yeosang becoming accustomed to being around you.‌ The incident from the first night didn’t happen again, you bought him a mattress to rest until you move to the new apartment. He’s kept his distance from you, similar behaviors from before when he was upset. But you’ve rarely seen anything but a smile on his lips as he walks around with you, eyes always on yours. The 69 on his neck catches your eye each time he displays his neck, although you’ve noticed that he prefers the long sleeved sweaters that you have. He curls himself up onto the couch most of the day, in and out of sleep. None of that is very much out of the ordinary.

The last few days he’s been strange. Immediately rubbing himself all over your clothing whenever you finished cleaning. Staring at you, and whenever you asked him what’s wrong he’d just sigh and look away. Tail sometimes curling around your leg as you wash dishes, scolding him before he moves away. His hands sometimes brush against your neck, his constant excuse that you had a piece of dust sitting there.

Growling lowly whenever you chatted with San, ignoring you. His chest would puff out as an act of aggression, tail completely still as he watches the screen. Until, you scratched behind his ears and he’d huff happily, quickly getting over his annoyance. You asked him what it was all about but he’d just change the subject. Those are only a few things that’s been bothering you, but you’re just not sure how to properly act around him. Maybe he’s noticed that you’re always on your toes?

The drive to your new apartment is about three hours long, Yeosang preferring to lay in the backseat, gaze on your sunroof. He doesn’t say much on the drive there, his body purring lightly as he feels the soft breeze from the open windows. You glance back at him from the rear view ever so often, your lips unable to hold anything but a smile. You can’t help it; you like him being around.‌

You’re used to staying at home alone, San sometimes coming over and bringing warmth to your home. But with Yeosang here, you look forward to opening the door and seeing him laying on the floor in front of the television set, ears twitch slightly when he hears you walk in. Lazily coming up from a nap to ask you what’s for dinner, and about your day. He hasn’t mentioned how he came to be or why he’s a hybrid, and you never push it. He’ll tell you when you’re ready.

You park in front of your new apartment, reaching back and poking Yeosang’s cheek. His eyes flick open, narrowing once they meet yours.

“Time to get up, sleepy head. We’re here. Remember to grab the hat and hide your tail underneath your clothing, alright?” You say softly, rolling up the windows. You hear a frustrated sigh as he puts on the beanie, curling up his tail into his sweater.

“There has to be more hybrids like me,” he mumbles. “The lab had so many.”

You look at him but he says nothing more about it, stepping out of the car. You lock the doors behind you, Yeosang running ahead, glancing back ever so often to make sure you’re there. You open the door, and he stands outside, glancing around before entering. He runs his hands along the walls of your new apartment, ears twitching at the new sounds. You say nothing, letting him grow accustomed to it as you walk into the bathroom to freshen up.

You come out quickly, hair wet from the quick shower you took. You look around for Yeosang, until you hear a large thump coming from the back of the house. You widen your eyes, jogging down the hallway before swinging the guest room door open.

Yeosang sits in the middle of the room, tail resting lightly behind him. He looks at you, a wide grin on his lips. “You made the room feel like a forest, y/n.” He points to the humidifier in the corner of the room, your biggest purchase and your bank account is definitely crying right now.

You painted the walls a dark green, almost black. You’ve researched that South Chinese Tigers live in damp forests, and you hope your poor man’s attempt at making him feel comfortable is enough. You put several plants around the room, decorating his bed with fake leaves. It’s the best that you can do with your pitiful almost-doctor salary. The bigger humidifier spoke to you, but that’s an investment for another time.

“The rug I bought and the sheets are coming soon. I know you like to lay on the floor a lot, so I bought that just in case you don’t feel like resting in bed.” You say, feeling your cheeks burn. It’s a bit warm in the room, but you’ve noticed that Yeosang hates the cold, always tucked under several layers of blankets.

“… You didn’t need to do this,”‌ he says softly. “I would have been fine with anything. I wouldn’t have complained.”

“I know, and that’s why I did it,”‌ you say simply. Yeosang isn’t one to voice his concerns, keeping to himself often. You realized that he hated well-done meat after a few days, catching him sighing as he looked at the meat placed in front of him. You’re not sure how much the tiger side of him affects his human body, so you cooked the meat for him rare. Right when you placed it in front of him, his ears perked up and he ate it quicker than anything you’ve previously given him.

“I want you to feel comfortable while you’re in our home,” You say, gesturing to the room. “I hope you like it, and if you need anything please just let me know. I’ll try my best to give it to you.”

He stands up from his spot, taking small steps toward you. Only a foot away, you see the flush of his cheeks, eyes focused on yours. Flicks of brown are in the bright yellow, something you haven’t noticed before.

“Can I hug you?” He asks softly. Your heart swells at his care for you, and you nod.

He immediately wraps his arms around you, pressing you against his cheeks. He sighs in content, and you feel his tail curl around your legs, nose sniffing your hair.

“Thank you for not pushing me away. I know this is hard for you to do, taking care of someone while still being in school. I know that, and I’ll try my best to help you in any way that I can.”

“You don’t have to do that, you being here is enough for me, Yeo,” You tease, combing your fingers through his soft locks. He leans into your touch, pressing you harder against him. You let out a small oof, and he laughs, pulling you away.

“Sorry, it just feels good, when you do that.”‌ He says simply. You pull your hand out of his hair, laughing awkwardly as you look away.

“Ha, well… I’ll go make lunch. Come out whenever you’re ready.” You say softly, and he nods, watching as you go.

He curses at himself, closing the door behind you. He’s overstepped, again. But he doesn’t know how to make you see that he’s yours, in every form of the word. Right when he breaks through one of the barriers you’ve put between the two of you, you build it up again. He glances around the room, seeing the small nuisances you’ve made, just for him.

It’s a comfortable warmth in here, but he saw how sweaty you were, wiping your forehead constantly. The dark colors that he would see if he was out in the wild, splashes of color ever so often. He always wondered why you were gone for hours at a time; seeing you covered in paint and tired. His eyes wander around the room, brushing lightly against the plants you’ve placed in there.

Tears coats his eyes as he sees the care you’ve done, all for him. When weeks ago, you told him that you didn’t know what to do with him. But now, you only give him smiles, tell him that you’ve missed him. And making this room, all for him, is only another extension of your care. Your love. Something you won’t admit to yourself.

He sits on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his light locks. Telling you how he became who he is, it can bring you great danger. And that’s the last thing he’d ever want to do. But, he can’t comprehend you being out of his life. Maybe telling you is the best thing to do. He looks down at his hands, seeing them tremble.‌ He swallows, nodding to himself.

He’ll tell you today.

You look at Yeosang as he pushes around the meat on his plate in deep thought, eyebrows furrowed. His tail flicks back and forth anxiously, ears perked straight up. He’s in a T-shirt, a rarity since you’ve bought him mostly sweaters. Is he uncomfortable? You know that it takes a second for animals to adjust, but the way he’s acting, you thought that he liked it.

“Yeo?” You say softly. He doesn't look up from his plate, eyes still furrowed. “Is something wrong? Did you need anything else?”

“No.”

You take the last bite of your food, standing up and walking into the kitchen, washing off your dish slowly. He’s always been open about his feelings, but now, you’ve never seen him so closed off. Maybe he doesn’t like the room? But he seemed so happy about it, it had to be something else…

Oh.

You pushed him away again, running away to the kitchen after playing with his hair. Is he offended?

“y/n?”

You jump at his voice, turning around.‌‌‌ His eyes are usually always on yours, but he’s distant this time, lips in a straight line.

“Can we talk in the living room? I think it’ll be best to explain it there. Don’t worry, this isn’t about you.” He says quickly, playing his dish in the sink. You follow after him, sitting in the chair across from Yeosang. He rubs his fingers together, before touching his neck softly, fingers running across the tattoo burned into his skin.

“When I was born, I was in a lab. I wasn’t a tiger in the beginning, and I wasn’t a human either. The people who took care of me told me that I am only a weapon, nothing more or less.‌ And that I needed to follow their every order, or else. I listened. I was taught how to move between being a tiger and an almost human,” He gestures at his tail. “I lived there with others. There were several different species along with myself, all predators. I don’t know the process, but I know that I wasn’t exactly born. I woke up in a closed room, I can still remember everything from then until now. I remember taking my first steps and turning into the tiger you’re used to seeing.

“But I got tired of listening to them. I am a predator. I couldn’t do it anymore.‌ So I broke out and left. Ran until I couldn’t run anymore. Lived in people’s backyards and abandoned homes, until I realized that becoming a tiger might be better. So I let the circus people take me. I learned that people don’t question animals, although the scars that cover me and the 69 pressed into my skin from the lab raised eyebrows, many assumed I was just a rogue black market tiger. And I was a cute cub at that time, so I wasn’t killed.

“The others, I have seen some. They’re not too far from here, and you probably haven’t noticed. Their appearance is more human when they transform. Jeong Yunho, Kim Hongjoong, those are only a few. Ah,” His eyebrows raise as he thinks. “Choi Jongho, your police officer friend.‌‌ He knew I was in there, in the apartment, but he didn’t say a word. I am forever grateful for that; he always told me that it’s a hazard for all of us to be in the same town, but I thought it was best for us to separate.”

He finally looks up from his hands. “It’s better to not mention the types of animals Yunho, Hongjoong and Jongho are. I want you to know as little as possible, in case someone comes and tries to figure out if you have me with you. I‌ haven’t been a human in a while, so they might not recognize me. At least, until they see the ears and tail.” He touches his ears lightly.

“I kept this from you to protect you.‌‌‌ But over these weeks, I've realized that we’ll be in each other’s lives for a long time. You’ve accepted me with open arms, and I’m forever grateful.” His smile grows as he looks at you. “I’m sorry I’ve kept this from you, but I can’t get into much more detail than that. If you want me to leave, do not hesitate. I will leave right now if you want me to.”

Silence fills the room as he finishes his words. You close your eyes, rubbing your face.‌ Yeosang is an experiment.‌ The government planned, or plans, to use him as a weapon. The lovable, wide eyed and big hearted Yeosang is supposed to be a deadly weapon. You completely understand why he didn’t tell you this immediately. The old you would’ve pushed him out of the door, scared out of your mind. You’re still scared, but you can’t imagine Yeosang being back out there. Even if there’s other hybrids, he’ll be at risk.

And you think it’s best if he stays with you.

“I don’t want you to leave,”‌ you say softly. “I can’t imagine you gone, Yeo. I think you’ve grown on me.” You tease, and he chuckles lightly. “Thank you for telling me this. I can’t even understand what you’ve gone through, but I’m happy you trust me enough to tell me.”

He nods happily. “I trust you, y/n, with everything. I just hope one day you feel the same about me.”

"What do you mean? I do trust you, Yeo. Why do you think I don't?"

He sighs, rubbing his neck slowly. You see him trace the outline of the numbers before he opens his mouth. "You... You trust me yes, but you keep yourself closed off from me. I try to push past those barriers that you have, but it's only so much I can do. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me. But I can wait."

"It's not that I'm not comfortable with you, it's that, I don't know. I don't know if something that I'm doing is bothering you, you know? Like earlier, when I put my hand in your hair—"

"I purred, y/n," he deadpans. "I like it when you touch me."

You look away from his piercing gaze, too overwhelmed with what to say.

"Have you thought about what I've said? About you being my mate?"

Yes. It occupies your mind more than you like, consumes your thoughts constantly. Yeosang keeps on saying that he's your mate so nonchalantly, as if he's telling you the weather. And you're not even sure.... No, you are sure that you feel the same. But your insecurities just continue to pile as you look at him, knowing that he can do so much better than you.

"Please tell me something, y/n. I can help you. I just need you to tell me." He says desperately. You shake your head, looking down.

Holding back how you feel will only gnaw at you until you can't take it anymore. You sigh, eyes fluttering close.

"I am, I, well... Ever since you told me that first night, I can stop thinking about it. Tigers, they have several mates over the years but many do stay with the one that they've chosen. So you telling me that you consider me yours, it's a big fucking deal. I just want to know why."

A knock on the door interrupts the two of you, and you throw Yeosang's hat to him, quickly wiping away your almost tears before rushing to the door. Thankfully, this one has a peephole. San stands on the other side, leaning against the wall as he looks out. You sigh, leaning your head on the door.

Before you open it, Yeosang's hands envelopes yours, stopping you from turning the knob. You look back at him, confused.

"Don't open it," he says softly, almost too low for you to hear. "I didn't tell you the last thing about me." His tail is stiff, pupils thin as he keeps his eyes on the door.

"I can't ignore him, Yeo. And it's San, he won't hurt a fly."

"No, y/n. He's not who you think he is. He pulls your hand away from the door, and you stumble back, confused.

"What the hell—"

"He's one of them," Yeosang shakes glancing at the door. "One of the new predators, y/n. I can smell him from here. He smells like—"

"y/n! Are you going to open the door or am I going to stand out here all day?"

Yeosang looks at you desperately. You glance between him and the door, weighing your options. You've know San for most of your life, growing up with the dork. He's never been weird or suspicious, always helping you when he can. Why would he be one the predators that Yeosang is talking about?

But the pure fear in Yeosang's eyes as he stares at the door, tail straight up and ears perked. His hands dig into the couch fabric behind him, frame rigged. He won't lie about something like this, that you know. He puffs out his chest, low snarls falling from his lips. His eyes are almost a brown as he focuses on the door, fear slowly replaced by anger, waiting for San to break down the door.

If San is who he says he is, he'll understand that you can't see him right now. You grab your phone, shooting him a quick text.

you: hey San! i hear u but i can't really talk right now! got too many boxes to sort through Hhhhh. ill call you when you can come over? drinks on me!

You hear the notification sound from outside the door, listening silently as he types into his phone.

san: u sure? i can help ya out if u want!

you: thanks ;; but im good for now! ill probably message u in the next couple days or so! ❤️

san: fine,,, u owe me gas money for driving over here :/ see you~

You hear his steps fade away, letting out a breath of relief. You look to Yeosang, the anger in his posture not at all gone. You walk over, wrapping your arms around his torso, listening to the rapid beats of his heart. His form slowly molds into yours, before you feels his arms resting on your back. His breaths slow down as he presses his nose into your hair, your smell comforting.

"Thank you for trusting me," he says softly. "I know San is your friend, but I know that something is off about him. He smells like the labs, y/n. He smells like the labs."

You nod your head as you listen to him.

"There are predators that are better than me, faster than me. He's one of the more evolved ones, easier to blend into normal human life. I didn't think I'd need to explain this, but the better hybrids know how to camoflague. Take the lives of existing humans and replacing them easily."

You pull away, looking up at him. "What are you saying?" His eyebrows are tight as he looks at you. His hand brushes against your cheek, before he rests his forehead on yours.

"Your friend, San. He was gone long ago. That is not the same San that you know."

—

Weeks go by and you've ignored San to the point where he doesn't call or text you. Your last conversation ended in anger, you telling him that you needed some space to adjust and him screaming at you about being unreasonable. You believed Yeosang, of course you did, but that conversation proved it to you. San and you, you never fought that hard before. He never called you a bitch so easily, never daring to cross that line.

But the San that you spoke to on the phone did. He called you every name in the book and more, before not contacting you again. You're not sure if he knows about you harboring Yeosang, but he gave no indication of it, thankfully.

Yeosang's been your only friend every since you've moved. You video call Wooyoung every once in a while, listening to his low drawl as he told you about the adjustments the circus made. They bought another animal in, a gorilla. You aren't sure if it's actually legal to own one in a circus, but you don't mention it, you just like speaking to him.

After the incident, Yeosang stuck to your side like glue. Everywhere you went, even to the bathroom, he's always close behind, tail constantly curling into your figure and hands always brushing against your skin. Sometimes, he rubs his head against the clothes you wear, encouraging you to run your fingers through his blond locks. His eyes always watch you as you do so.

You spend time in his room as he reads books softly; the deep timbre of his voice resonating around the room. Your sleeping arrangements are the same, you two in separate rooms. But once during the night you opened the door to him curled against the entrance, on guard as you slept. You scolded him softly before pushing him back to his room, but you suspect that he does it every night, going back to his room just before you wake up each morning.

You've accepted the title of being Yeosang's mate, not that you've told him of course. The threat of fake San barging into your apartment is high, and the potential for others to come is even higher. Yeosang is already stressed enough, and you think adding your feelings into the mix would only make it worse. Because, you love him.

It's strange to think about it. You've only met him as a hybrid a couple of months ago, but you can't even see yourself without his presence. He makes you happier than you've ever been, and his level of caring for you supersedes anything you've ever felt. You wake up and fall asleep, only thinking about him. As long as you see those golden eyes of his every morning.

You sit in the living room, combing your fingers through Yeosang's hair as you both watch a movie. You're lying back on the couch, his body resting over your legs, head on your stomach as you feel his chest rumbling in satisfaction at your touches. Your leg is falling asleep but you don't dare tell Yeo; he's just a big cat after all. He’d just grumble in irritation and whine for the rest of the night.

The scene flicks to the main characters pulling off each other's clothes, and you tense up at that. Yeosang doesn't move at all, watching in silence. The remote is too far away for you to skip, so you settle on watching it, fingers stopping in his hair.

The man begins fucking the woman against the wall, and you widen your eyes. What the hell? Do they not censor anything on TV these days? Yeosang’s hold around your waist tightens slightly, and you feel his head turn. You look down at him, seeing him sniff just beneath your stomach. You widen your eyes as he nuzzles your stomach, untangling himself from around your waist. He pressed his tongue just below your navel, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Yeosang, you can’t–”

“I know you want me, y/n. I can smell you,” He pushes his nose into your crotch, taking long breaths. “I can’t stop, not when you smell so good.”‌ His voice deepens, a dark gleam in his eyes. You’ve never seen them so blown out, pupils completely consuming the gold.

His nostrils flare, moving his face between your legs. You feel his fingers tease the lining of your sweats, keeping his eyes on yours.

“I can’t wait to fuck into you, feeling your pussy tightening around my cock, fucking into you so hard you can’t breathe. Wouldn’t you like that, y/n? Don’t you want me?” You can feel the sheer arousal emitting off of him, the desperate need that threatens to wrap around you. He leans down, eyes focused on yours.

“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me, and I’ll go away.” You feel the hardness of his cock pressing into your leg, his lips dragging across your cheeks as he waits for you to say something.

You clench your core, eyes fluttering as you feel the room suddenly become hot. “I want you, Yeo. I do.”

The pure evil smirk he gives you is sin incarnated. He pulls down your pants quickly, ripping off your underwear with ease. You lift your legs as he tosses your pants to the side. He tilts his head as he looks down at you, thumbs teasing your sweat up lightly. Despite his feverish behavior, he presses wet kisses up your torso as he slowly pulls your sweater over you.

You’re not wearing a bra, and he sighs in content as he sees your beautiful breasts on display for him. His rough tongue wraps around your nipple, nipping it with his teeth lightly. You moan softly as he moves to the other breast, sucking it softly. He continues to press kisses into your skin, paying special attention to the crook in your neck, licking it slowly.

“Yeo, please,”‌ you groan, feeling him smile into your skin. His lips trail along your jawline before his eyes finally level with yours.

“You’re so beautiful, and all mine.”‌ His words are filled with so much love as he looks at you, nose brushing lightly against yours. “I have to tell you, I don’t know what will happen when I‌ mate with you. Hybrids aren’t exactly animal or human. I wasn’t made for the purpose of reproducing, but I‌ have the instincts anyway.”

He presses his lips lightly to the corner of yours, shuddering softly. “I might be too rough. I don’t want to hurt you, so tell me to stop whenever and I will.”

“You won’t hurt me, Yeo,”‌ You say softly. He smiles, softly pressing his lips against yours. He tugs on your lower lip lightly, and you sigh softly, opening your lips up for him. He slides his tongue between your lips, slowly moving his against yours. His hand slides down your torso, lightly pressing against your lower lips.

Your hips buck into his palm as he dips a finger between your folds. He moves his middle finger slowly over your clit, enough to keep you just on the edge. You try humping against him but he laughs against your lips, other hand holding your hips down. You groan in frustration but he ignores you, moving agonizingly slow.

“Yeo-”

He shoves two fingers into your cunt before you could finish, you gasping against his lips as your hands tangle into his hair. One of your hands brushes against his cat ears and he shudders, biting onto your lip a bit too hard. You feel his teeth pierce the skin and he pulls back, eyes wide.

His fingers stop moving inside of you, the cloud of lust gone as he looks at the strands of spit and blood. “y/n, I’m-”

“It’s okay, keep going.”‌ You say, and he shakes his head. Your fingers rub against his ears again, and he stutters, biting his lip. “I kind of liked it.” You admit softly, and his eyes flick back open, desire rolling in them. He shoves his fingers back into you, moving in and out as he curls against your g-spot. Your breaths pick up as your desperate for release, telling him that you’re going to cum over and over.

He nods slowly, eyes on his hand moving in and out of you. “Come for me, kitten.”

The playful word has you convulsing against his hand, his fingers stuck inside of you as you let out a loud moan, humping softly against his hand. He watches you in awe, eyes bright. You let his hand go, and he immediately takes his fingers, sucking on them. He groans in ecstasy, licking off every last drop of you from his hands before lifting up his shirt quickly.

You clearly see the 69 on his skin now, but you didn’t know what was under his shirt. He always wears big hoodies around you for comfort, never wearing anything tight against his skin. His body is lean muscular, but scars are carved into his skin, tracing from the bottom of his neck to the middle of his stomach. He looks at you nervously, biting his lower lip. But you only lean up, lightly pressing your lips against his skin.

“Look at my tiger,” You say softly. You see the blush rise from the bottom of his neck to his cheeks, before he pulls off his pants. He’s not wearing any underwear, but you’re a bit surprised.

His cock has dark, jagged lines across it, the same pattern that he has as a tiger. He has a bit of fur were his ball hair would be, pink head standing at attention. He leans down, slowly humping against your cunt. You feel his thick length slide between your folds, coating his skin.

“You’re so wet for me, y/n,”‌ he says softly. After a few loose strokes and a whine from you, he presses himself into you slowly. His head is larger than any you’ve seen, and you groan, feeling the stretch of him open you wide.

The growl that emits from his throat is anything but human, cock pushing into you with a low pop. His girth stretches your walls as he slowly bottoms out, small whimpers falling from your lips as you feel all of him enter you. He presses soft kisses against your face, trying his best to alleviate your pain. You feel so full, his sweat dripping onto your body. You run your fingers along his back, slowly going down until you reach his tail. Before he could tell you to stop, you touch it lightly.

He thrusts completely into you, tears springing to your eyes. You feel his cock throb inside you, almost pulsating.

“Are you okay?” He says through clenched teeth, forcing his eyes open. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

“Yes, yes, start moving,”‌ You moan.

He goes slow, long strokes in and out of you as he grunts, trying his best to hold himself back. Your cunt sucks him in with ease, tightening each time he moves out.

“Fuck, y/n, I need to fuck you, alright?” He says, and you immediately know what he means. Before you can say yes, he slams his cock into your cunt. His strokes are quick and deep, your body flung up and down as he pushes into you. Your fingers clutch his hair, and he pulls his arms around you, pressing his chest against yours. Whimpers of pleasure fall from your lips as he slams into you, the wet sounds of your arousal echoing around the living room. He drags his tongue against your neck, sucking and pinching the skin.

“Want to breed you,” He says, hips thrusting into yours. “Fill you up with my cum,” He runs his hand along your belly. “I can see myself fucking you, I can feel you right here.” He presses lightly on your lower stomach, but you can only moan in response.

Yeosang’s pace is unrelenting, the head of his cock presses against your cervix each time he thrusts inside. He rubs your clit quickly, groaning into your neck. “Cum for me, pretty. Cum all over my cock.” He drags his teeth against your ear, biting your lob lightly.

He suddenly picks up his pace, hips pounding into you. The intense feeling of him rubbing your clit and fucking you into the cushions is too much, your moans echoing around the apartment as he pulls himself into you, cumming at the same time. His cock explodes, the white coating your walls. His cock pulsates as he slowly grinds himself into you, sighing into your neck.

After his cock goes limp, he pulls out of you slowly, holding his hand over your cunt, keeping himself inside. A small part of you panics; will you actually have kids with him? You haven’t even gotten your license to practice yet.

“You won’t have offspring,” Yeosang explains softly. “We’re two different species, it’s not possible, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

He brushes his hands through your hair, humming softly. His eyes are filled with love and adoration, pressing his lips to the corner of your brows lightly as he looks at you.

“I love you,” You confess, and he only laughs into your hair.

“I love you too.”

San stares at the monitors, glaring at the screen in front of him. He glances down at his cell phone as it rings, and he picks it up, keeping it on loud.

“Have you located SCT-69?” His voice says.

San nods solemnly, watching as Yeosang carries you from the couch, pulling your body close to him as he walks out of the camera’s view. His eyes flick to the next screen, seeing him take care of you.

“Affirmative. They’ve just mated, and he still believes that he won’t impregnate her.”

“Good, then let’s monitor until she is pregnant. We’ll take the thing when it’s born.”

San sighs, “But isn’t it just a kid,‌ Jongho? We shouldn’t…”

“It’s not orders from me, and you know it San. There’s no room for discussion, okay?” Jongho’s says, his voice irritated. “Call me when you need me, I’m hanging up.”

He hears the dial tone, and throws his phone to the side, deep in thought. He feels his friend’s hand rub his back lightly as San looks at the screen. All of this, everything just for an experiment. All that he’s built…

“She’ll be long gone before the specimen rips out of her stomach. It’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry,” Hongjoong murmurs into his ear, pressing his lips lightly against San’s temple.

“You’re right, I know,” he says softly. “This all will be over soon enough.”

_____

tags: @charreddonuts @changbinisms @woniepill @luv-quinn @crowhyun @atinytease @sunukissed @numxra @tohokuu @spooo00oky @kodzukein @cqndiedcherries

#fic: stranger #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fanfiction

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Text

The Odyssey | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw (18+)

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Bradley wakes up in a foul mood, your ego takes a hit. A deal is struck to ensure that you’ll be able to graduate.

warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity. warnings to be added on a chapter by chapter basis. 18+ minors dni, wc: 3.1k

…

Nine weeks into Spring semester, six to go. Six more weeks of having scalding coffee, missing tastebuds and a fucking freshman girl ranting into his ear all before the clock even hits 8am. Bradley’s sunglasses sit perfectly across the bridge of his nose, gold-framed Ray-Ban caravans that hide how late he was up last night. This means that sweet, little freshman Bettie O’Riley can’t see the look that he’s giving her as she jogs along to keep up with him.

Hallowed halls, filled with young adults that either reek of cheap beer or Daddy’s money, all signs would suggest that Bradley isn’t supposed to be here. Only thirty-three, sitting at that awkward age that makes him neither a frat boy nor a balding tenured ex-businessman turned lecturer. And yet, his brown leather shoes hit these aged floors every morning on the way to his first class of the day.

Beige, almost cream-coloured, wide pleated dress pants and an untucked blue shirt, rolled up at his forearms and missing the top button. His messenger bag draped from his shoulder, his tie balled into the hand holding the to-go double shot espresso.

Six more weeks until he’s in Italy for two months, teaching during the mornings, free as a bird in the evenings. Sun on his face, limoncello on his tongue; good books, women who don’t just giggle and twirl a strand of their hair at him. History. All funded by the Cornell school of Arts and Sciences. He damn near sighs at how badly he wants to be there now.

“Bettie, I already told you,” He sighs, adjusting the gold-framed sunglasses and shooting a look down at her and her wispish black, curled bob. “I can’t curve your grade, it was a C minus.”

She speeds up and steps in front of him, walking backwards now. “Please, Professor Bradshaw. I’ll do anything.”

Professor Bradshaw rarely draws a reaction from him these days. Only his bosses and parents call him that. He makes a point of scrawling it across the chalkboard at the beginning of each semester, but he’s usually still reminding kids a couple of weeks in to just call him Bradley.

Still, both he and Bettie O’Reilly know that it isn’t her method of address that makes him scoff at her. He stops walking and pushes his sunglasses up into the feathery brown curls that adorn his face, staring down at her like she’s even younger than she is. She swallows, regret flooding her. The other professors usually lean into the kind of virginal, good-girl, bad student thing that she’s got going on.

“Bettie,” Bradley speaks slowly for her, pink lips against tanned skin. Warm eyes against a cold stare. The hallways are full around them, standing stationary in the steady stream of students. “Don’t come onto me like that again. Study.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright, come to my office tomorrow morning, I’ll give you an extra credit assignment,” It’s more lenient than he should be with a girl who just propositioned him before he has even finished his morning coffee, but Bradley knows not to blame little Bettie. With those thick, rounded glasses and dark freckles, he knows that she gets a lot of attention from her other professors. The culture they’ve created in this school isn’t her fault. Neither is the fact that Bradley’s class is notoriously hard to pass. “We’ll talk through what an A grade paper should be looking like. Do me a favour and don’t talk to me until then.”

He steps around her and continues; she’s swallowed instantly by the sea of bustling students. In the run up to the end of the semester, people start showing up to class again as it hits them that their professors might actually fail them. There aren’t too many F’s floating around in a school like Cornell. Its stats are exceptionally high, especially these past few years. It would seem that, in a school like Cornell, a passing grade quite simply has a price tag on it.

Three minutes before his morning class is due to start, and having woken up on the wrong side of his bed, Bradley drops his sunglasses back down over his eyes as he strolls into the lecture hall. It’s surprisingly full for a Monday morning. The gossiping never stops when he walks in — he’s not that kind of teacher. He allows the whispering to continue while he sets up his supplies.

There are six people in this room that Bradley has not seen since the first week of class. Every single one of them has a parent that is a benefactor to the university. Front and centre, surrounded by a group of excitedly whispering, well-dressed young women, there’s you. He knows you vaguely, knows that you’re coasting on high B’s. He hasn’t seen you since January, you won’t be passing this class.

“God, look at that rock!” The blonde to your side fawns, grabbing at your hand and lifting it up towards the light to get a better look. Setting his sunglasses down on the desk, Bradley looks too. There’s a silver band with a big diamond on it around your ring finger. You’re beaming. Dressed in a white turtleneck and fitted blue jeans, Bradley’s got his assumptions about the family you come from, and the family you’ll be marrying in to.

You’ve been taking his classes for the full three years that he has been teaching here. He knows your boyfriend. Malcolm something something the third. Maybe fourth. His Daddy paid for the science wing refurbishment last year. Bradley remembers the night that your Prince Charming ditched you out in the snow, drunk out of your mind. You probably don’t remember that night.

“Good morning.” His booming voice obliterates the pleasant chatter coming from your friend group. You cross one leg over the other and look downwards at the glimmering rock on your finger.

Six more weeks until you’re out of this hellhole. An apartment in Manhattan all lined up and Mac’s place with his father’s firm long confirmed by now, it’s all coming into place. You’ll have a summer wedding at the end of August, and then you’ll truly begin your life.

“Tell me all about it! Did he get down on one knee?” Veronica nudges her white tennis shoe into yours and leans across to you, tapping her pen against the white-lined page of her notebook. Between the two of you, Catherine readies herself to take down notes that you’ll copy later.

A decent string of A to B grades and a diploma, that was the agreement, and then your life is all yours. That was all your father had held you to. You hadn’t ever promised to do something with the degree he had paid for.

Why would you? — Your mother hadn’t. She had studied literature, made friends for life, and met her husband. Then, she began her life. Having her children, shopping in the afternoon, tennis on the weekends. Bliss.

“Of course he did!” You confirm eagerly, leaning over Catherine to continue the conversation.

The first five minutes of a lecture determines everything. If he loses their focus now, then he might as well leave now and take an especially early lunch. He starts off with a quick reminder of their upcoming exam, and a nod towards last week’s discussion of Roman literature.

His attention is quickly diverted to the excited whispering happening six feet from him, right in the front row. Your friends aren’t bad students. You weren’t ever a bad student. It has just become clear that you were in college to find a husband, and now you’ve found one. Bradley’s eyes narrow in on you and your preppy, little friends, giggling at the front of his class.

Exhausted, overworked and underappreciated, Bradley stares at you calmly. You conversation comes to a slow stop as an awkward air of silence fills the lecture hall. He’s just standing at the front, staring right at you, waiting for you to shut up.

“Sorry, Bradley, somebody just had some exciting news.” Catherine smiles shyly at him. He knows her the best out of the three of you. She TA’d for him last year. Great girl, really bright future — to generous when it comes to grading. It’s because of his respect for her that he doesn’t jump to humiliating you right away.

“I can see that, congratulations,” His tone is dry, broad shoulders squared, his face unamused as he looks to you. You stare back at him calmly, giving a curt nod — less than polite in your mannerisms. “Now, if those of you that still have a chance of passing this class could please turn your attention back to me, we’ll give the blushing bride her moment afterwards.”

He opens the little brown, leather bound book in his hands and clears his throat, assuming that your rude interruptions are done for the day. Somehow, the awkward silence that sits heavy in the room grows to an even deeper low after you retort.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” Bradley deadpans, bored. You squint at him, six feet between the two of you and a lifetime of differences. Unimpressed by his joke, you roll your eyes right away.

Sitting there, you cross one leg over the other and sit forwards, frowning at him. He doesn’t fit in around here and you do, perhaps that’s where his problem with you stems from. Perhaps it’s the lack of ring on his own finger. “Why would you assume that I wouldn’t pass your class?”

As much as he knows of you, you know of him too — he’s supposedly a jackass. “Because you missed half of the semester. That includes two quizzes and a term paper. There’s no way for you to achieve a salvageable grade in this class.”

When you’re around Malcolm, sometimes he says things that are just so entitled that you’re wincing before he’s even done talking. He can’t help it. He means well. With the amount of time you’ve spent at his family home in the past few weeks, it’s no wonder that words you would normally wince at are spilling from your own lips, “I was planning a wedding, what do you expect from me?”

“Attendance.” Bradley snips. He raises his eyebrows slowly, waiting for you to pack up your pretty, coordinated stationary and walk yourself out of his class.

“But—“

“Goodbye, Mrs. Ashworth. Congratulations again.” Bradley speaks harshly, calling you by a name that isn’t even yours yet like it’s an insult. Like he’s better than you, somehow.

Your pencil slams down onto the half desk in front of you, eyes ablaze. Perhaps the first time you’ve ever been told no. “If you fail me, there will be consequences.”

The silence that fills the classroom this time isn’t awkward. It’s just anticipation, baited breaths, waiting for Bradley to lose his temper. He walks a few paces closer, close enough to smell the cherry scented perfume on each of your pulse points.

His eyes darken as he dips his head just slightly, meeting your gaze. “You’ve got me shaking in my boots, honey. Now, stop wasting my time and get the fuck out of my class.”

There are certain lines that a professor does not cross when working at an Ivy League. Swearing at the daughter of someone with more lawyers than Bradley has living family members, was not his brightest idea. Still, your father is an amicable man — he keeps on saying that — and he wants to work this out. Bradley gets to keep his job, you get to graduate. Everybody wins.

“Classics majors work closely with individual professors in their areas of expertise, often in small classes, and have many opportunities for independent research and travel,” Doctor Kazansky’s voice is calm, teetering on the edge of cold. It’s growing increasingly difficult these days to put up with snotty parents and their snottier children. “I’m sure you understand why attendance would play such a strong part in succeeding in such a major.”

Bradley braces himself against the radiator, glancing down at the watch on his wrist. Real Italian leather that a girl’s grandfather had made for him a few years back. He’s missing happy hour for this circus.

“Of course I understand, Doctor Kazansky,” Your father might as well be a parrot for how well he has learned to mimic tone. You cross your legs at his side and sit up a little straighter. The way you tense up at his voice is so routine, it’s almost Pavlovian. Bradley watches wordlessly. “Just like I’m sure that you understand that in this university’s hundred year history, it has never failed a member of my family and my daughter will not be the one to tarnish our impeccable reputation here.”

You glance up quickly, catching the look on Bradley’s face. He squints disapprovingly at your Charles Dickens villain of a father.

“What can she do to bring her grade up?”

Now that, admittedly, does come as a surprise. This isn’t the first meeting that Bradley has been called into where someone’s parent demands a better grade. It is the first where he hasn’t seen them resort to bribery before they finally blame their kid.

“She missed over half the semester,” Bradley answers perhaps too quickly, still hot from the way you had spoken to him earlier. He gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and looks at your father rather than you. “Two quizzes and a term paper. Even if I gave her extra credit, she couldn’t pull her average above a D.”

Your father’s face doesn’t react at all to this information. Instead, he turns his attention back to the Dean and rests his hands on the armrests of the chair, slowly raising his eyebrows.

“What about the Italy trip?” Doctor Kazansky looks to Bradley, sitting back in his chair. Bradley stares blankly back at him. “There were two empty spaces from what I remember. Is that correct?”

“For research assistants,” Bradley’s tongue drips venom, his brown eyes dark and his arms folded across his chest. You narrow your eyes at him, knowing that an insult is coming next. “She can’t research what she doesn’t even understand.”

“But, if she were to complete extra credit for the rest of the semester and then accompany you for your research, she would have enough credits to pass your class and then graduate.” Doctor Kazansky explains, more for your father’s benefit than Bradley’s. Bradley already knows this.

He grits his teeth, eyes darting across to you. His only solace is that you look just as dismayed about the proposal as he does.

“I’d graduate late.” You point out.

“Better than not at all,” Your father intercepts, pushing his chair back and standing. He carries himself like a man much taller than he really is. “Thank you, Doctor Kazansky. We’ll be in touch about this research opportunity.”

“You can’t just choose to do it, there’s an application process.” Bradley’s tone is far from professional, it’s downright snarky by this point. He doesn’t care. He can’t imagine anything worse than lugging a brat like you around Italy with him for two months, just for you to fail anyway.

You stand to follow your father, ditsy white loafers on the dark oak of Doctor Kazansky’s office floor. Bradley remains where he is, leaning back against that wall with his arms crossed.

Your father smiles across at Bradley and then shoots a look back towards the Dean. It’s smug, knowing. That process doesn’t apply to him. “We’ll be in touch.”

There’s a final look shared between you and the oaf that just cost you your summer in Manhattan — the first time that the two of you have agreed on anything, a silent exchange. Neither one of you wants you to join him on that trip.

He watches you leave, following blindly after your father like a child, then whips his head around to his boss.

“It’ll be good for her, maybe you can actually teach her something.”

“My expertise unfortunately lacks when it comes to setting the table by seven sharp and getting the kids to bed before her husband makes it home.” Bradley scoffs, pushing himself away from the wall and shaking his head as he straightens up.

“Is there something offensive to you about a woman being a homemaker, Professor Bradshaw?” Thomas Kazansky has two daughters. One, is a wife with two beautiful children of her own. The other, is a doctor. Bradley’s been over to their house a few times and he knows that Tom makes a point of it to be equally proud of them both.

“Oh, give me a break,” Bradley rolls his eyes at the notion, despite the subtle truth it holds. He shakes his head. “She deserves to fail and you know it.”

“Well, we’ll see how she does at the end of summer. I’ll be the first to admit my defeat, if she fails.” Tom gives a small smile and a shrug of his shoulders, always too calm for his own hood these days. Apparently he has mellowed with time, Bradley hears that he used to have quite an attitude in his early career.

Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, the younger professor tries to stare his boss down. Tom knows how much these trips mean to Bradley, he takes his work so seriously. Still, Tom just stares back at him, calm.

Squinting, it takes a few moments for Bradley to give up. He turns and growls in frustration, letting the door to Doctor Kazansky’s office slam behind him. His shoes echo through the halls as he storms out of the building and across the quad. Not even Bettie O’Reilly would dare to interrupt his when his face looks as stormy as it does now.

He shrugs his bag off of his shoulder and throws it into the back of the bronco, then shoves his hands into his pockets in search of his keys.

“Do you even understand how hard I have worked for you to have the opportunities that you have had?”

Bradley glances up. He isn’t surprised to find that you’re the one being yelled at. He almost snorts — good, it’s about time someone reigned in that attitude of yours.

You stand, tearful, at the side of your father’s expensive Porsche, your head bowed in shame. Bradley unlocks his truck and pulls himself into the driver’s seat. He figures you probably cry a lot when someone’s telling you no.

“I mean it! — If you ruin this opportunity, don’t even think about coming back. Hopefully Malcolm’s family like you, because they’ll be all that you’ve got, I swear.”

Bradley turns his head slowly. Swallowing to keep from sobbing in the parking lot, shame burns through you as you meet his gaze. Your father towers over you, demanding to know if you’re even listening to him.

Bradley turns the engine on, his brown eyes looking decidedly less scary when he isn’t glaring at you. There’s something else. Maybe it’s pity — you aren’t used to that. He turns his head away and reverses out of the spot.

…

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradshaw x reader

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chelseeebe · 7 months

Text

gasoline.

so this was supposed to be like a the bear au and then i just got carried away and now it’s just whatever the hell this is lmao it’s been sitting in my docs since july and i thought it finally needed to see the light of day :)

this is two parts in one bc i hate doing two seperate parts but it’s highlighted where p1 ends and p2 begins

wc: 12k+ oops

‎♡‧₊˚

Look, the sleazy, deteriorating walls of Frank’s had never been his idea of a dream. But flunking high school and a failed band had meant limited this is where he’d ended up. Running the line at the frankly failing restaurant was more like his idea of hell but it paid the bills and with a solid team of other degenerates, meant that it wasn’t all that bad.

Well, that was until the devil incarnate came along. And by devil incarnate he means you.

Eddie couldn’t grasp why someone of your stature would ever take a job at such a shitty restaurant, with your fancy knives and kitchen lingo that really meant nothing to him, why wouldn’t you look for something else? Something better?

You’d ended up here because… well, despite going to culinary school, getting the big job after you had graduated and doing everything by the book so to speak, you’d missed that burning passion that could only be found in the shittiest, dirtiest kitchens.

Well that, and the fact you’d been let go. But that wasn’t relevant.

“Honey, I’ve been here for years, I really don’t give a shit about anything you’ve gotta say,” flapping his arms around at your suggestion of maybe washing his hands when he got back in from smoking, “Helen never had a problem with it, so why do you?”

“First off, I have asked you not to call me honey or whatever other stupid pet name you wanna give me… it’s chef,” brows furrowed, the rest of the kitchen pretending not to listen to your latest bickering, “and secondly, Helen is gone, so whatever rules she implemented mean nothing now, okay? You wash your hands when you come back in or… or…” struggling to come up with a suitable punishment.

“Or.. or what?” he mocks, turning to his colleagues for a little backup, “you gonna fire me? ‘Cause I’d love to see you try,” refusing to back down.

It was the principle, you see. Eddie really would’ve had no issue with washing his hands if literally anyone other than you had asked. He was positively fuming that you had just flounced in here and started laying down a bunch of bullshit rules that no other soul had cared about in his five years working here. Not only that, you’d beaten him to the head chef role. He was certain that he was a shoe in the second Helen announced that she was moving on. Only to walk in one morning to your grinning face, your uniform crisply ironed and this certain energy only Eddie had seemed to sense.

You sigh, you never liked to be the first one to resign after an argument but Eddie was relentless and would’ve kept at it all day if you didn’t, “Just wash your hands.. chef,” it was entirely too busy to spend all day going back and forth with the man child.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he’s smirking now, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wanted you.

“Please,” you frown, hand firmly on your hip as you stare back at him. You felt pathetic begging for the tiniest bit of respect in your damn kitchen but it was simply the only way to get him to cooperate.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he goads, brushing against your shoulder as he makes his way to the sink, the rest of the kitchen is in complete silence, watching and waiting to see how this one would end.

You readjust your collar, pressing your lips together in a firm line, choosing to ignore his childish remark. There would come a day that he’d regret every horrid thing he’d said to you and maybe that day wasn’t today but it would come and you could not wait.

It’s another month of butting heads with the long-haired prick before things come totally to a head. His inability to just follow simple orders had you at wits end, because Eddie truly believed that he knew better. A suggestion to add thyme to the mash potatoes had caused all out war in the kitchen.

“No, we add rosemary… not fuckin’ thyme,” he spits, aggressively stiring the pot, his back to you, guarding his precious dish from your grabby hands.

“And I’m saying to add both- actually no, I’m not saying, I’m telling,” grabbing the container of thyme and attempting to sprinkle it into the pan, “move out of the way, that’s an order.”

“Oooo,” he mocks, knuckles turning white from his grip on the handle, “An order.. I’m so scared,” chuckling as he blocks you from reaching over his shoulder, “why d’you think you know better, huh? You don’t know shit about this restaurant, we’ve done it my way for years and that’s not gonna change now.”

“Because I’m the fucking chef and I know better than you,” finally snapping at the man, slamming the container down onto the stainless steel countertop, “move. now,” you bark, widening your eyes as he twists around to meet yours, you could feel the disgust radiating from his glare.

“No.”

You huff, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fucking ponytail around your hand and slam his head into the worktop, “Step out chef,” a simple order that you thought was far more gracious than he deserved.

His mouth falls open, still gripping onto the now-overworked potatoes, “What the fuck?” frantically flailing for some comradery from his fellow workers, it seemed that they’d all fallen into place, no longer the bunch of grimy assholes he once knew.

“Step out,” you persist, teeth gritted as you stand strong on your order, tilting your chin to meet his harrowing gaze. Eddie didn’t frighten you per say, but he was intimidating and if it came down to it, you probably weren’t going to be the one to win that fight.

“Fuck this,” he exclaims, slamming the pan down onto the stove top with a loud bang before storming off out of the fire escape door, not before grabbing his cigarettes from the shelf you’d repeatedly told him not to keep them on.

There’s now mash potato all over the hob that would probably need some extensive scrubbing and would ensure that your kitchen would absolutely reek of the stuff all night. If you could have it your way, you’d have made him scrub the entire oven with a dang toothbrush until you could see your face in the metal.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cheeks burn as the rest of the kitchen watches on in utter amazement, even the old, hardened chefs had taken to your ways even if it had taken a little bit of pushing. There was no understanding as to why he couldn’t just listen, just shut up and get on with his job without trying to constantly argue and bite back. Maybe because you were a woman? You were younger than him? Or maybe it was simply because someone was finally up to the job of challenging him and he hated that fact.

Whatever it was, it was getting on your last nerve.

Eddie wasn’t by any means a bad chef, he was innovative and knew how to make shit taste good, he was just incapable of accepting that maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the only way.

You smooth your clammy palms down your apron, nodding at Tina. A subtle way of telling her to carry on and take charge while you dealt with the pathetic man outside.

The door slams as you step outside, looking around the dark alley for the man, following the trail of smoke to his slouched position around the corner. Now, this was the difficult part, you weren’t really looking to fire him but what choice did you have if he couldn’t just accept that you were his boss now.

“Have you calmed down?” breaking the silence, fingernails pressed into your palm leaving tiny crescent moon indentations.

You never were one for confrontation.

He scoffs, refusing to look in your direction as he puffs on the cigarette, “I’m calm.. are you calm?”

Even now, he couldn’t just smile and nod, always had to say something else, “I’m calm,” swallowing the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, “do you want to work here?”

“Nobody wants to work here, shit- even you don’t wanna be here,” chuckling to himself, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yes I do. Do you? Because I can help you if you don’t, trust me I am not scared to just let you go.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, tossing the cigarette to the ground before finally meeting your gaze, “you’re firing me?”

“No,” relaxing your shoulders, “but I need to know that you want to work here. That you aren’t going to keep arguing with me about stupid shit because I truly do not have the energy for it anymore,” watching as his expression falls, at a stretch you’d say he looks remorseful but that could very well just be the moonlight reflecting on his face, granting him more grace than he deserved.

The alley falls into silence, the only sounds being that of the bustling city around you and Tina’s faint voice barking instructions inside the kitchen.

His eyes avert to the concrete, with a pained expression he breaks the silence, “I do… wanna work here,” it’s like that tiny sentence caused him physical pain to get out.

“Good,” you nod, his words may mean nothing but it’s a relief to finally hear that he gives somewhat of a shit about this place running smoothly, “Eddie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good chef… but even the best chefs have to take orders sometimes and you are no exception to that.”

Eddie untenses his jaw for what must be the first time in ten years, that tiny bit of affirmation was exactly what he was looking for, “...thank you,” he turns his head towards yours, “I think you’re… you’re an okay chef,” the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he pushes himself from the rough brick.

Your eyes roll instinctively but you’re not mad, for once, “get back inside,” waving him off towards the door without turning to look at him.

Taking the moment to gather yourself and your thoughts. Who knew if Eddie had meant what he said or if it was even going to change anything but it had definitely meant something. It wasn’t a burning desire of yours to come in and be the new evil boss in fact, it was the very opposite of what you’d pictured. There just wasn’t much lee-way when you were given a team of stubborn assholes that had gotten far too used to slacking off.

Frank’s could really become something if everyone wanted it and were willing to put in the effort required to get there. Sure, you probably weren’t going to earn a Michelin star but you were sure you could make it worthy of something.

Eddie had mostly kept to his word. Finally washing his hands and keeping his hair out of his face, even if you had had to nag at him a little. There wasn’t as much kick back as before. Sure, he’d roll his eyes and huff and puff but he’d actually do it.

It’s another Saturday night, you’re not so busy but enough to keep you on your toes. Just longing for the moment you collapsed into your bed and didn’t have to think about this place until Monday morning.

Eddie sidles up to where you’re working, going over the rota for the next two weeks. Weighing up if waking up at the ass crack of dawn was actually worth all this.

“So I was thinking..”

“Uh oh,” you add, snapping the book shut before turning to him, he’s hopeful. Well, that or he’s about to say the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah great thanks.. so I was thinking, it’s getting warmer, right? I think we should put sandwiches on the menu, and not just boring old sandwiches.. like, like good ones,” his vocabulary is limited but you get what he means.

You ponder for a moment, staring into his wide, optimistic eyes. It was a good idea to be fair to him, you just weren’t sure if you had the time to conjure up a whole new sandwich menu on top of everything else on your plate.

“Okay, I actually think that’s a great idea,” you two were civil, not exactly the best buds but you think maybe now you could trust him. “If you can come up with some ideas and make them for me.. I’ll think about it.”

His grin is infectious as it spreads across his face, “I got you… what are you thinking? Something with chicken or..” fishing for ideas.

You throw your hands up, a shadow of a smile on your lips, “that is entirely up to you, okay?”

He nods knowingly, slowly backing away, eager to get started on his first individual project since your arrival.

“I’m trusting you with this!” you holler after him, getting back to the mess of a rota in front of you.

“Yes boss,” he calls back from somewhere in the kitchen, “I mean chef,” catching himself.

Your heart warms a little. Maybe your lectures hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all?

No matter how hard you stare at the screen, willing for something to magically appear, it doesn’t. The line marker blinking at you, taunting you, pleading with you to just write something. Anything!

There’s a quiet wrapping of knuckles against the door causing your head to fly up, finding a surprisingly clean Eddie standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” spinning your chair slightly, “shit, sorry I forgot to say you’re good to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” flashing him a tight lipped smile.

“Oh no… most of ‘em have already gone,” vaguely motioning to the now empty kitchen, “uh… a few of us were gonna grab a drink and wondered if you’d wanna join us?” He resembles a shy child, fingers tapping along the battered door frame.

“Oh!” you must’ve sounded shocked as his eyebrows travel up his forehead in surprise, getting invited out by your crew had just.. never really happened before, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t tonight,” pointing at the blank word document, “the menu is due next week and I uh- I have nothing but you guys have fun,” shooing him off.

It was a Thursday night and you couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up tomorrow with a blinding hangover.

“You need help with that menu shit? I mean, my sandwiches are a hit so.. maybe I could help?” placing his jacket on the old cabinet in the corner, prepared to help no matter what you replied.

You’re not exactly in the position to say no to help at this point..

“I mean.. yeah, if you can think of six amazing, brilliant, showstopping new dishes then be my guest because I sure as shit can’t,” unintentionally coming off a little rude.

It’s just frustrating, the first big step you were taking for this restaurant and you were still somehow managing to fuck it up

“Okay, what’ve you got?” he peers over your shoulder at the blank screen, “ah, right,” he sucks his teeth, “not great.”

“No.. no it’s not,” slouching down the chair, “I’m completely fucked,” pushing the loose strands of hair from your forehead.

“You’re not completely fucked- not yet,” dragging the spare chair around to the other side of the desk, “I’m sure we can think of something tonight,” pulling the laptop closer to him.

You smile at him, grateful for his positivity even if it was fake.

The pair of you throw some shoddy ideas back and forth for a half hour. None of them good enough to make it to the word document, instead getting scribbled onto a ripped out page from your notebook.

“I am fucked, aren’t I?” you frown, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

He chuckles softly, “nah.. there’s some good stuff here,” running his finger down the messy list.

You feel completely vulnerable with him here, it might have been the lack of sleep or just the fact that you appreciated his presence so much but you foolishly begin to let your thoughts wander.

“I just feel like I’m fuu-,” immediately regretting opening your mouth, “no, you know what? Doesn’t matter,” you look at the clock on the wall signalling that it had gone well past midnight, “you should get going, it’s late,” pretending to scroll on the still-bare document.

“No, what were you gonna say?”

You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your foot against the leg of the chair, “I said it doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does,” he pushes, egging you on.

You take a sharp intake of breath to signal that you weren’t willing to go any further with this. Why couldn’t he just fucking drop it?

“Oh my God, you started this conversation and now you don’t wanna finish it,” frustrated that it had seemed like you were finally beginning to seem like you were somewhat human, he grabs his discarded jacket, rolling his eyes as he starts to exit the office.

“I’m scared I’m not doing a good job… you all obviously care about this place and I’ve just come in here and ruined it,” biting down onto your bottom lip, “and as much as you all pretend to like me, I know you don’t and- and that’s fine,” you shrug, exasperated with the weight of a thousand bricks hanging onto your shoulders, “I don’t care about being liked, I just want this restaurant to work but it feels like I can’t even do that,” slumping forward, confounded and slightly in shock that the first person you’d spilled all of this to was fucking Eddie.

“I do like you,” he says quietly, stopping in his tracks, throwing his jacket back down, “everyone does… you’re making this restaurant better,” rejoining you at the desk, “we’re all just stubborn and mean so no one’s told you but you’re doing good,” a reassuring smile overcoming his lips, his hand wavers, unsure of whether to reach out to touch your shoulder or if that was a step too far.

He flops back into the chair and you offer him a genuine smile for his words. It was really all you could muster without starting to cry. Coming into an already established restaurant with new ideas and ways of working was never easy but to be met with such pushback from him had made it even harder. So to now have him say in front of you, telling you that what you’re doing is right, well it meant the world.

“Thank you,” you mouth, blinking earnestly as you flip the laptop lid shut, it was too late and you were far too tired to even try to continue. “That really means a lot from you,” attempting to turn your vulnerability into a joke.

“I mean it, though,”scooting closer on the chair, “I just enjoy arguing with you too much to admit it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, that much was true, he definitely enjoyed getting under your hair and pissing you off as much as he could.

“We should go, it’s super late and I’ve got all day tomorrow to do this,” sliding the pen into the pot, feeling his eyes still boring into the side of your face.

You stand from your seat, expecting him to follow but he stays firmly planted in his chair. Hand reaching out to grab your wrist as you grab your bag. Jolting away as you’re not expecting the sudden contact.

He swallows, standing up before deciding whether to just fuck it or if this was about to get him fired. You’re blissfully unaware that this internal battle was even happening until his hand is on your cheek, tilting your chin upwards before closing the distance between your bodies, smashing his lips to yours.

Oh shit.

It takes a second for your brain to process what was happening but you don’t.. dislike it. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, sliding his tongue into your parted mouth with a quickness.

Leaning into the kiss, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on his shoulders. You’re taken aback by how easy it feels, moving together just right. The small of your back crashes into the rigid desk, pulling you out of the kiss and back into reality. Staring back at his darkened eyes with a slight bemused expression.

“No.. not here,” squeezing his shoulder. His hand paused on your shirt button, getting ahead of himself. Maybe you had found yourself wanting to fuck Eddie but not here. You weren’t that stupid.

His hand falls, swinging to his side, “oh.. you didn’t- did I fuck up?” still mere inches from your face, so close in fact, you could feel his breath on your flushed cheek.

“No.. no, I just..” deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, “do you wanna go back to my apartment? It’s not far,” blinded by the haze of lust that was filling the small room to the brim.

His eyes grow wide, realising exactly what you meant, buzzing with impatience and excitement. “Yes.. yeah I’d love to,” his plump lips still wet with the remnants of your mouth.

You nod, letting go of his shoulder to gather your things, and yourself, before pulling him out of the restaurant. Eddie is more than willing to leave his van in the parking lot, jumping into your car with an primal eagerness.

The car journey is quiet and you wonder if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. What would everyone at work say? Maybe they didn’t have to know? This could be a one time thing and you’ll both just never mention it again. Well, you hope anyway.

You think your head might just burst the second he walks into your apartment, somewhere you had never expected Eddie to ever appear.

You’re quick to continue the abandoned kiss, not giving him any opportunity to make wise cracks about your apartment. It somehow felt easier if it was just mindless sex where you didn’t speak.

Guiding him towards your bedroom because the couch felt just a tad too casual. His hands are everywhere, sneaking underneath your blouse and then back down into the waistband of your pants. You shove him backwards onto your bed, clambering on top quickly so as to not give him a chance to start speaking or to do anything stupid.

Eddie’s obviously not keen on giving you the higher ground, gripping onto your waist and flipping the both of you so that he led on top. He’s got this devilish grin on his face that is so smug, you just want to slap it off of him. You chase the taste of his mouth with yours, becoming accustomed to the mixture of cigarettes and mint. God, you hope this doesn’t become a regular thing.

He pulls away from you to gawp down the space between your bodies, mouth hung open, gasping for breath while his fingers skillfully unbutton your pants, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, “woah… when the hell d’you get that?” staring at the black ink covering your thigh, a rose curling around the length of your flesh.

A dumb decision you’d made the first week of culinary school. You felt out of place alongside the other chefs who were absolutely covered in tattoos and felt the need to join them. Except, you hadn’t exactly thought about it and just went along with the first thing the dodgy artist had suggested. He’d also quite purposely left out just how much such a large piece would fucking hurt, especially for a first tattoo.

You join him in looking down at it, curling your lips in disgust, “when I was like… eighteen, it’s ugly and I hate it so thank you,” continuing your task of getting his jacket off, ignoring the fact that he was still ogling the inking and slightly starting to regret your decision to bring him here.

“It’s fucking sick, what are you talking about?” he’s smirking, running his fingers along the thick lining as your pants hang around your knees, “I thought you were like… boring,” finding the hem of your lacy underwear and tugging on it.

Your lips hover above his, eyes hooded as you glare at him, “can you just shut up before I regret everything and make you leave?”

He nods instantaneously, connecting your lips with a quickness, shaking his jacket off of his arm and onto the floor with a thud. Repositioning his knees to either side of your thighs, you’d done a good job of getting your shirt half-off, his fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons as you break from his lips, leaving wet kisses along his stubbly jawline.

“Holy fuck, you’re joking?” his eyes just about popping out of his head as your pierced nipples spill out of your bra. Another spontaneous teenage decision you hadn’t got round to getting rid of yet.

His hand is immediately drawn to your exposed breast, full of pure glee, “you’re a dark horse, you know that right?” thumb running over the erect nipple as you fumble with his tattered old belt.

Your mouth opens to protest his ogling but is quickly replaced with a soft gasp, his thumb working miracles on the sensitive bud. Head falling back against the pillow when his lips replace his thumb, licking and sucking on your nipple with a wicked grin.

“Shit,” you moan, his growing erection rutting against your core, “can you- please hurry up,” it sounds strangled coming from your throat, embarrassed that you’ve completely melted into a pile of putty beneath him. If you’d have known that his mouth could be put to such good use, maybe you’d have tried this earlier.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, leaving one last kitten lick to your chest before rushing to get his pants down. Kicking them off to the side somewhere, the clunk of his belt buckle hitting your bed frame on the way down.

“Oh baby, that all for me?” remarking on your absolutely sodden underwear, hurriedly pulling them down your thighs, before using the same hand to position himself at your dripping entrance.

You’re too desperate to think of anything smart to say back, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d probably just start begging.

His face mere inches from yours as he pushes himself inside, a groan from somewhere deep in his chest falls out, “Jesus Christ,” he stutters, willing himself not to cum right now. Sex is always better with someone you detested. Now why is that?

Your arms loosely knot around his neck, intertwining your fingers with his hair, trying your utmost to hold eye contact as his hips begin to move. Slow at first, reaching the hilt before pulling back and sliding in, it’s excruciatingly slow and your legs tighten around his waist, begging for more.

“Faster.. please Eddie,” whining as his pace quickens, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah yeah.. yeah, say my name,” he blabbers, one hand sliding between your, thumb tapping against your swollen clit before rubbing tiny circles to the sensitive surface.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling incredibly full as his tip nudges against that soft, spongy spot. Your eyes squeeze shut, illuminated with an illustration of stars and white hot light. Your heart wasn’t eager to just adhere to his demands like that but shit, when he sounded this desperate, you couldn’t help it.

Chanting his name like an oath in time with his thrusts. The filthy sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanying the strained groans coming from his throat. It was far too late and your neighbours could surely hear every single thing.

“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his hips stutter, “you gonna cum for me? Huh?” dropping his forehead to rest against yours.

Your thighs squeeze around his torso at the words, feeling yourself grow closer to your impending orgasm. His thumb still expertly rubbing your clit, slow but deep thrusts as he nears his own end. Your brain too hazy to think coherently about anything as you tighten around him, overcome with the blinding pleasure of your orgasm.

“Yesyesyes,” you garble, trembling as you come undone completely, back arching from the mattress which brings your bodies impossibly close. Tugging gently on his curls as a means of encouragement, not that he needed it.

“Ohhh fuck yeah.. shit,” unable to stop himself in time, spurting thick ropes of cum inside of you. You’re too fucked out to truly think about the implications yet, still gasping for air as he pumps his cock a few measly times before pulling out and sitting up on his knees.

His wild hair stuck to his moist forehead as he looms above, trying to catch his own breath between your knees. “I’m so sorry.. you’re not.. you can’t get pregnant, can you?” one hand coming to rest on your thigh.

Your eyes roll on their own, accelerating back to Earth at an insane pace, “no,” reshuffling so you laid comfortably on the pillow, “but you can’t do that again,” glaring up at him without any realisation as to what you just said.

“Again?” his brows raise, still poised between your legs, “there’s a next time?”

You huff, turning on your side, away from Eddie and his stupid doe eyes and that ridiculous smirk. Reaching down to grab a shirt from your bedside table while he chuckles to himself.

Ashamedly, your heart skips a beat when he slides in behind you, pressing his body into yours. You were losing it, and embarrassingly quickly too. Ah fuck.

A hand snaking around your waist pulls you from your sleep and for a brief moment you start to think someone had broken in and decided to crawl into bed with you. Until said hand creeps down to your hip and those lips you’d hung off last night press a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” you grumble, placing your hand atop of his to stop it creeping into the waistband of your shorts.

“Ah c’mon..” frowning against your back, “best way to start a long day.”

“I have to get ready for work, so do you actually,” keeping your head firmly on the pillow, there were no real intentions of getting up. Not yet.

“Hmm.. five minutes,” hand descending even with yours on top, his smirk evident, dripping through his words. You shudder as his hand reaches your cunt, leaning backwards into his chest, ever so slightly parting your legs.

“Five minutes,” you agree, fully acknowledging that you were slipping into dangerous territory here.

“Did you fuck Helen too?” you ask, not really wanting to know the answer but just having to know if you were right in your stereotyping.

Every kitchen had one. The one that seemed to make their way around everyone eventually. You were sure Eddie was that one and you were the last on his hit list.

“What? Helen was like fifty dude,” messing with the volume dial on the radio.

“So? Did you?”

He’s silent for a second, throwing his hands into the air, “it was one time,” raging that you’d caught him out on such a baseless accusation.

“I knew it,” nodding smugly to yourself, he most definitely has the aura of the kitchen bike and that was for sure.

“Yeah but… you’re like actually hot and I know what you’re thinking but no, I am not a slut… it was once and we were drunk and that was it, so you can shut up,” deciding to turn the stereo off, not a fan of your choice of Taylor Swift records.

“I’m like… actually hot?” mimicking his tone.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, of course that’d be the only part of the sentence you picked up on, “hon, you don’t notice me pop a boner everytime we argue?”

Your face screws up, unsure of whether to take it as a compliment or if you should be speaking to HR, “wasn’t generally looking in that direction if I’m honest,” swinging round into the car park, just past Eddie’s abandoned van, “thanks though… I think,” smiling at him as you gather your things.

“It was a compliment, by the way,” stepping out of your car, tapping the doors of his rusty old van before walking inside, going on and on about Peggy (his van) and how important she was to him.

You’re not entirely paying attention as you walk into the kitchen, startled by the presence of somebody already clattering about in there. Eddie follows closely behind, just as confused as you that anybody sane would be here this early.

“Hello?” you call out, rounding the corner to spot Marcus who had taken it upon himself to come in early to start prep, making a monumental mess of the counter.

“Oh yeah, hey… I wanted to start now ‘cause I need to leave early- you two came in together?” perplexed by the sight of Eddie peering over your shoulder, the batter covered wooden spoon pointed at the pair of you.

“Right… er- his van broke down last night and I said I’d give him a ride,” nodding at your obviously fabricated story, looking to Eddie for some back up.

He nods along happily, “I’m gonna take a look at ‘er later, fingers crossed or you’ll be givin’ me rides all week,” slinking away into the locker room with a sly smirk on his face, thankfully hidden by the shoddy wall as he winks.

“God forbid,” you quip back, scrunching up your nose as you leave the two of them and make your way to the office, throwing your bag onto the cluttered desk and collapsing onto the desk chair.

You had to get this damn menu done by Friday or you were completely, utterly fucked. Already three days behind on the schedule, you’d be lucky if you even made it home tonight. Flinging the discarded laptop lid open to be met with the very much blank menu once again. An email pings through that makes your heart jump. It must’ve gone unseen when you were otherwise occupied last night.

Hello,

I hope this email finds you well.

I just wanted to confirm that Joan will be in attendance on May 18th as per your invitation. She is looking forward to trying the new menu and will subsequently write a review expecting to be published on or around the 20th.

Thank you,

Imogen Smart, The Indianapolis Star

Oh shit oh fuck oh balls.

It had slipped your mind that you’d even invited her along to try the new menu. What a colossal mistake this would turn out to be.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You’re slouched over the desk, head in your hands when Eddie creeps through the open door, startling you when he speaks, “you good?” making his way to the desk, leering down to look at the screen as if it was any of his business.

“I really do not have time for you right now,” smoothing out your new-found forehead wrinkles. You never had time for his bullshit but you certainly did not have time for them now.

“Eh, what the fuck? I was inside of you like three hours ago and now you’re being weird again?”

“Shhh- shut up,” you whisper-shout, the chair rolling back as you stand rather ferociously, staring at the gap in the door and just praying that Marcus was too busy doing whatever the fuck he was doing to hear.

“Jesus… chill out,” his hands are on your shoulders, soothing your nerves irregardless of how much you cared to admit it.

You blink at him, cheeks burning, “I just- I have so much to do today, this critic is coming and I still haven’t finished the men-”

Your sentence is rudely interrupted with his soft lips pressing against yours, caressing your cheek with his rough hand. It’s automatic, but you’re leaning into it, finding yourself gripping onto his bicep as he nudges you back towards the desk. It’s probably a good thing that your tailbone smacks into the sharp edge, pushing him from you as you come back to planet Earth.

“Stop.. stop,” gently squeezing his arm, the other consoling your throbbing spine, “I need you out there today, okay? You’re gonna have to take charge, get shit done and do not bother me unless that kitchen is on fire or you’ve cut your arm off, okay?” lowering your head to meet his eyeline.

“My arm? That’s a bit extreme,” deciding to turn your high stress situation into a joke.

“Yes your arm, finger you can deal with, capiche?”

“Yes ma’am,” hand lingering on the small of your back, “you sure you’re good?”

You exhale slowly and perhaps a tad too harshly snap, “yes.. I’m okay, now unless you have a brand new menu for me.. get out,” sweetening the blow with a sickly smile, motioning for him to leave.

“Okay okay..” he begins walking to the door, “I’m in charge, right?” ever the opportunist.

“Yes, but do not make me regret it,” flashing him a warning look.

“Sweet,” winking at you as he slips out of the door, rubbing his hands together like the little demon he is. You roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart thuds with affection.

Whatever was blossoming had the potential to fuck up every single good thing you’d done for this place, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to at least see how far you could go before total chaos.

- p2

You had meant for it to be casual. Like a few times a month sorta thing. And yet somehow you’re sat with your head on Eddie’s shoulder, half asleep as the gory horror film he’d picked plays on.

It had started that way, to be fair. After a stressful day or on a quick lunch break you’d catch him and pull him into the office. It’s no surprise really that it didn’t take long for the rest of the kitchen to catch on.

But back to right now, you’re only supposed to be resting your eyes as you lean into his shoulder. He smelt like kitchen, cigarettes and the new cologne you’d bought for him as his old one was quite frankly disgusting and had irritated your nose. He jolts upright when the screen flashes, knocking you from his shoulder and rudely pulling you out of your slumber.

“You’re a prick,” you mumble, glowering in his direction before opting for the opposite side of the sofa, the side that wasn’t rude.

He snorts but quickly realises that you are very serious and very much not happy, “I’m sorry.. come sleep on me again,” pleading with you, “or d’you wanna go to bed?” clicking the pause button on the remote.

“I wanted to go to bed an hour ago,” grumbling into the cushion as he’d ignored your request and swore that you’d just love this new movie. You didn’t. It was fucking boring.

“Okay okay, let’s go to bed,” he shuts the television off before standing from the couch, towering over your curled up body, “I’m not fuckin’ carrying you,” already wise to your tricks.

You groan something incoherently, something deeply offensive to his entire bloodline, before pulling yourself from the couch. “You know, if we’d gone to bed when I’d asked, I would’ve let you put it in my ass,” shrugging innocently before leading the way to your bedroom.

“Wait what? You didn’t say- I didn’t know that was an option!” speed-walking to catch up with you, incredibly eager to figure out if this offer was still on the table.

It was not.

“Yup, shame really.. you should probably listen to me more,” clambering into the unmade bed with the tiniest smirk on your face.

He’s not far behind, leaping into your bed, “we can still do that though, right? It’s only..” glancing at your alarm clock, “..two” he doesn’t even sound sure of himself.

“Nope,” pulling the blanket over your shoulders, purposely choosing to face the other way, “you missed your chance buddy.”

Whoever had done the ordering (you) had royally fucked up and left tomatoes off of the list. So as a consequence of your stupidity, you were now in Bradley’s trying to balance ten packets of stupid fucking tomatoes in your arms.

You’re not even looking where you're going, too focused on not dropping the damn horrid red things as you skulk through the store. It’s already too late when you bash the elbow of some innocent bystander, knocking multiple packets to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grumble, grabbing at the discarded fruits with your spare hand.

The kind gentleman had already started to try and balance them back in your arms. You look up to thank the stranger to be met with a face you hadn’t seen since high school.

“Steve Harrington? I- what the fuck?” you remark, clutching onto the produce so as to not cause another collapse.

“Holy shit, it’s you,” he’s utterly dumbfounded, staring back at your face in amazement.

You’re suddenly extremely aware of your dirty uniform and messy hair, eyeing his well pressed suit and just general put-togetherness. His hair still perfectly styled though just a bit shorter now.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you lived in Indiana anymore?” the last you’d heard of him, his father had sent him away to his office in New York, desperate for his son to have the life he never had.

“Ah.. well, I do now, bit of a long story,” chuckling awkwardly as he takes the majority of your tomatoes to the counter, lightening the load.

“Oh well, that’s cool..” you nod to the cashier who asks if you’d like a bag or multiple bags in your case, “I’d love to catch up but I’ve got a bit of a tomato crisis, uh..” digging in your pocket for the company card.

“Yeah definitely… here let me,” he grabs one of the jam packed bags under his arm, “I’m gonna assume these aren’t all for you?” leading the way to the parking lot.

“Oh no, I fucking hate tomatoes.. I messed up at work so it’s my job to fix it,” loading the bags into your dusty old car, “here, take my number and we can plan something.. it’s been so long,” grabbing for your phone in your apron.

“I uh- I actually have your number,” he nods, not bothering to get his own phone out.

“I’ve changed my number since high school, Steve.”

“No, yeah I know.. I got it from Robin, I was s’posed to call you when I got back..” rubbing his thumb along his forehead and into his hair, “I’ll give you a call later and we can do something,” smiling softly as he closes your back door.

“Oh, okay.. yes please call me, I- uh I really have to get back,” sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling with your keys, as you roll the window down to continue the conversation.

“I will, I hope your tomato crisis.. gets better,” shrugging awkwardly as you start the engine. Wincing at his choice of words.

“Me fucking too,” rolling your eyes as you pull off, not entirely registering what had just happened, focused on getting these stupid vegetables back to the restaurant.

It’s not until an unknown number flashes up on your screen that you think about it again. He’d left it until you were right in the middle of stuffing dinner down your throat to call of course.

“Hello?” you muffle into the phone, chewing on the lukewarm piece of chicken.

“Hey! It’s Steve.. you said to call so.. I called,” he sounds nervous, like he was calling a stranger and not you.

“Oh hey.. sorry I’m eating,” covering your mouth as you loudly swallow, “how are you?”

“Yeah I’m good, hope your crisis turned out okay,” laughing into the receiver.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.. thank you for your help, you saved me from squishing a ton of tomatoes.”

“Of course,” he clears his throat, “would you wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? I take it you’re busy with your.. tomatoes but I’m free pretty much whenever.”

“Yes.. yes erm-,” you set the phone onto loudspeaker and flit through the bookings for tomorrow, it wasn’t insanely busy and you were sure they would manage without you for an hour or so, “does ten sound good for you?”

“Ten is perfect,” you can hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you there then, enjoy your dinner,” still sounding as awkward as ever.

“Okay.. I’ll see you then, then,” making a mental note for tomorrow that you’d probably end up forgetting anyway.

You end the call, locking your phone and finally giving all your attention to the cold plate of food in front of you.

“Who was that?” Eddie appears out of nowhere, frowning as he walks into the office.

“Hmm? Oh, my friend Steve,” devouring the chicken without a second thought as to why he was even questioning it.

“Your friend? That you’re going for coffee with…?”

“Were you listening to my conversation?” blinking up at him.

“No.. I overheard you- don’t change the subject, you’re ditching work for a date?” he’s scowling, coming to perch on the desk.

“It’s not a date,” you warn, prodding the fork into his rib, “he’s a friend from school and we’re catching up while it’s quiet tomorrow, is that okay with you?” shaking your head, not that you were genuinely asking for his approval.

He narrows his eyes, “I suppose..” he takes the fork from your hand, helping himself to your dinner, “it’s just coffee?” asking tentatively as his greedy ass tucks in.

“Oh my God yes, it’s just coffee,” he was incredibly jealous for someone who was not your boyfriend.

“Okay okay.. sheesh, no need to get defensive.. date whoever you want,” shrugging as if he couldn’t care less.

“You’re the one getting jealous, not my fault you never ask me to go for coffee.”

“Because we spend every waking moment together anyway,” repetitively banging his heel into the desk, irritating you to no end. “But I’ll make sure to ask you to go for coffee from now on.. don’t want some loser taking my place.”

You huff, pulling the plate away from his greedy hands, “are you done?”

He shuffles backwards, still picking at your food despite your obvious attempts to get it away from him. “Okay okay.. I’m done.”

Eddie, in fact, does not drop it.

He’s still pouting when you climb into bed, sighing to himself like a pathetic old dog. Except now, he’d become desperate and slightly weird about it. Making all sorts of promises and hypothetical dates for you two to go on.

“Why don’t we go for coffee tomorrow? I’ll even pay,” walking his fingers along your side.

“Eddie please, can you stop? Who am I in bed with right now? Because it’s not Steve, I can tell you that,” exasperated by his incessant attempts to piss you off.

“Okay.. okayy,” retiring this tired bit for the night at long last, “you’re still taking me to work, right?” settling his hand on your waist, cuddling into your back.

“Yes, you bum,” switching the lamp off before setting your head on the pillow.

“I’m not a bum,” feeling him frown against your back, “it’s not my fault you refuse to get in my van.”

“It’s a death trap, I’d rather risk walking along the highway,” smiling into the darkness.

“Yeah whatever, good night,” he mumbles, pretending to be pissed off until you feel the tiniest, sweetest kiss to your shoulder.

You’re running late, as usual. Something about the bookings being fucked for tonight meaning you were either going to have a full restaurant or have absolutely no one show up.

It didn’t matter to you, not right now anyway because you’re jogging along the sidewalk to get to the dang café before Steve thinks you’ve abandoned him.

You’re huffing and puffing when you shove open the door, making a royal fool of yourself as anyone would believe you’ve just sprinted in a marathon to get here.

Steve jolts up the second he hears the door go, giving you a small wave from his table in the corner. It’s a relief that he hadn’t just up and left considering you were fifteen minutes late.

“I am so so sorry,” you say hurriedly, sliding into the other chair, “another crisis and obviously I’m the only one who’s capable of fixing things so..” you stop your rambling to look at him properly, “sorry- you don’t care, shit did you order?”

He chuckles nervously, “yeah.. I didn’t know what you wanted so I didn’t get you anything,” he stands up, “what d’ya get?”

“Uhh a cappuccino would be great.. thanks,” setting your bag down on the vacant chair beside you.

You chat about nothing and everything for a while until Steve turns the conversation back to high school. Now, you and Steve had a weird relationship during high school; hung around the same group, had a massive crush on the guy and was pretty certain that he at least liked you too. It had just never amounted to anything.

“I remember in school, you always used to cook shit for us.. it’s crazy that you’ve got your own restaurant now,” shaking his head in slight disbelief.

You’d bring tupperware full to the brim with whatever random shit you’d cooked up the night before. Forcing your friends to eat it and share their opinions no matter how harsh they could be.

“It’s not really my restaurant,” sipping the cappuccino he’d kindly bought, “I just run it and make sure it doesn’t burn down or go bankrupt,” laughing to yourself.

“So it’s technically yours..” fingers fiddling around with the empty sugar packet, “I’ll have to come by sometime, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

“I mean, I could probably get you in tomorrow.. if you wanted?”

“Well yeah, that sounds great,” smiling earnestly across the table.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later but you should definitely bring your wife, I’d love to meet her,” you vaguely remember seeing the extravagant wedding pictures on Facebook a few years back.

You hadn’t paid much attention as to who he’d married just recalled noticing the absolutely gargantuan manor house in the back and how stunning her dress was.

His smile fades and his mouth opens to speak but doesn’t manage to squeeze anything out. You get the feeling that that might have been the wrong thing to say. Immediately wanting to slide down your seat and hide under the table.

Steve takes it well though, laughing softly, “Ah.. not anymore but uh- thank you for bringing that back up,” playfully shaking his head.

“Oh no, oh my God.. I’m sorry,” grimacing because of your big fat mouth, “I thought I’d seen it on Facebook but maybe that wasn’t you.. oh fuck.”

“No.. it probably was me, we just- yeah not anymore,” wiggling his empty hand in your direction, only just now are you noticing the lack of a ring.

“I’m sorry,” smiling apologetically, “I’ve gotta ask though.. what happened?”

He sits back in his chair, preparing for the absolute novel of a story he was about to tell, “well, my dad moved me to New York, wanted me to learn how to be a man or whatever,” waving his arms about, “and I met the love of my life- I thought I met the love of my life.. we got married and it was great for a little while but she..” he inhales, recalling the still bitter memories, “..obviously didn’t feel the same way,” you’re sat eager eyed, waiting for the real gossip, “she was fucking her boss.. whole time.”

“Shittt…” baring your teeth in a pained expression, “that’s awful Steve, I’m so sorry,” gingerly patting his outstretched arm, “what a bitch.”

He nods along, “yeah she is,” his fingers drum a rhythm into the table, “that’s why I’m back here… I’m sick of New York.”

“God,” guilt rising into your chest for being the one to bring that back up, “at least you’re home now, right? Must be nice seeing everyone again,” your eyes flitting to your phone that had lit up for the umpteenth time.

eds:) : when r u coming back??

eds:) : helloooo?

eds:) : stop fucking ur boyfriend and come back 2 work

eds:) : i’m being serious now we need u

Steve follows your gaze to your phone screen, realising that you’d been sitting here for a while now and he’d just pulled you from your work to talk about his messy divorce. “Work?”

You look back at him, “yeah.. I’m gonna have to run, but I’ll get you a table for tomorrow,” pushing your chair back, grabbing for your bag, “bring whoever.. I’ll text you the details!” offering him a small smile as you rush out of the busy cafe not bothering to wait for his reply.

Eddie is just as irritating as expected when you get back, hanging off of your arm the second you walk in the door.

“So, you just had coffee? You were gone a long time, man,” an attempt to play off his jealousy, though it was hardly working.

“Don’t call me man, and yep, just coffee. Like I’ve said a hundred times before,” hanging up your bag and tying the apron around your waist.

“Right.. he wasn’t tryna do anything though, was he? ‘Cause I can tell him straight if you need me to,” hanging around your ankles like a lost puppy dog.

“He’s in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think you need to do anything, big boy,” gently patting his arm.

“Ohh so that’s why he’s back and trying to fuck you now.. I get his game.”

You turn to face him, sandwiched between his body and the rusty lockers, “will you just relax? Please,” running your hands down his chest.

Eddie frowns slightly, but nods, “he’s got nothin’ on me anyway..” a silhouette of a smirk forming on his face, “you know who’s givin’ it to ya good,” planting his lips on yours before you get the chance to express your utter disgust.

You’re smiling when he pulls back but push him away from you regardless, “do not ever say that shit to me again,” tightening the straps around your waist, walking away from the freak and into whatever hell awaits you in the kitchen.

It’s not very surprising that Steve comes in alone, your heart aches a little seeing him sat at the table on his own.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is watching your face with a foul scowl on his. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you announce that you’re going to see how he is, practically snarling at the thought.

He knows the dish in front of him is Steve’s order, he’d audibly criticised the fact that Steve had removed the mushrooms from his food, is he a fucking toddler or something?

His eyes dart around the room, pursing his lips as he prepares to maybe just let the glob of spit fall out of his mouth and accidentally into Steve’s childish dinner.

“Don’t,” Tina’s hand clamps over his mouth, stopping his despicable plans in motion.

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he protests, glowering at his co-worker. He definitely was going to do it and she knew it.

“Leave him alone,” flashing him that universally understood look that tells him not to even dare, “can you blame her, though? Meow,” grinning as her eyes flicker to you and Steve through the tiny window.

Eddie kisses the back of his teeth, whipping the dish towel at her, “ha ha very funny,” she’s desperate to rile him up as much as possible, taunting him with her mean quips.

His eyes slide to the window, met with the image of you absolutely cracking up at something Steve had said. It was the kinda laugh he loved to force out of you, usually late at night when you were overly tired and a little hazy. Unheard by most people. It was a slight comfort to know that Steve definitely wasn’t that funny, he could almost bank on it.

It’s like torture watching the pair of you interact for what feels like forever. Pulling his eyes away, deciding to go for a cigarette instead of putting himself through any more of that.

The air outside is still, it’s getting colder again but it seemed like Indiana was still hanging onto the dregs of summer; the sky illuminated with streaks of pink and orange. Maybe that’s what he was doing? Desperately clawing to keep your thing alive all the while you were trying to wriggle out of it.

He’s harshly pulled out of his self-pitying cloud, “Eddie?” you call out of the door, bounding over to where he was slouched against the brick wall, “thank you for doing that.. he said it’s great,” your toothy grin making an appearance.

Eddie grunts something in response, trying desperately not to think of you smiling at Steve like that.

“What? You okay? Why’re you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” he shrugs, lying through his teeth. He couldn’t help it, his heart twisting and contorting with every mention of that prick's name.

“Yes you are,” sighing softly, “you’re actually jealous? I thought you were just joking,” stepping toward him as he throws the cigarette to the floor.

His eyes eventually find yours, “I’m not.. jealous,” curling his finger into the bow of your apron strap, using it to pull you in, “I don’t get jealous,” another blatant lie.

“Mhm is that right?” you giggle, his behaviour over the past few days had proven that statement to be false. Wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek begins to rest on his chest.

Desperately trying to convince himself that this is a sign. That if you’d really wanted to, you’d be in there, doing this with Steve. But you’re not. You’re here. You’re clinging onto him and everything is fine.

The door handle at the front of the store rattles a couple times before whoever is behind it gives up and knocks, you all look at each other slightly confused before Eddie takes the plunge and goes to answer. You’re standing behind the counter with a guarded expression, not prepared for whatever crazy was trying to get in at stupid o’clock in the morning.

Steve is standing behind the open door with an apologetic smile, holding up a takeaway cup obviously bought for you. Eddie is less than thrilled, skulking back into the kitchen with the most horrendous scowl plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve text first,” kicking the door shut behind him, offering out the warm cup for you to take.

You breathe a sigh of relief, “yeah.. that would’ve been a good idea, thank you though,” gladly taking his offering.

“I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I didn’t catch you before I left so thought I’d stop by,” sipping on his own coffee, poised in the middle of the restaurant floor.

Eddie’s stood leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen from the front of house, arms crossed against his chest. Disapproving glare set solidly on Steve.

“Yeah absolutely, I’m glad you liked it,” smiling fondly at the man, sipping appreciatively on your cappuccino.

“I uh- I have a question for you,” his eyes flit to Eddie who was still stood with his eyes narrowed, scowling, “in private.. if that’s alright?”

You spin to look at Eddie, nodding towards the back, “I’ll meet you in my office in a minute,” shooing him off, “please.”

He snarls back at you, looking back over his shoulder to shoot daggers into Steve before eventually disappearing into the kitchen. For someone acting so jealous, you’d think you’d have been in a committed relationship for years.

Rolling your eyes as you trundle closer to Steve, “ignore him.”

“He a handful?”

“Mm and a mouthful sometimes,” perching on one of the tables, totally oblivious to your innuendo.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, blinking ferociously as you finally catch on.

“Oh no- I just meant he’s like.. rude,” stumbling over your words, cheeks beginning to burn.

“I know what you meant,” Steve assures, though he looked a little flustered himself.

Your eyes squeeze shut, “just continue,” rolling your hand, desperate for him to forget you’d opened your mouth.

He clears his throat, “so I was talking to my buddy.. he owns Garson’s in the city and he was saying there’s a spot opening for a sous,” glancing at you, “I just mentioned your name and I’ll give you his number but he said he’d love to meet you,” his mouth twitching into a smile.

Well, that was not at all what you were expecting.

In fact, it was a massive curveball ball that you’d not rehearsed a response to.

Garson’s was insane, they’d just earned their first star and everybody who was anybody was trying to get a reservation. It would be career defining to even stage there.

“Oh wow… Steve I actually don’t know how to reply to that,” placing your coffee onto the table in fear of dropping it on the floor.

“Well obviously think about it, I’ll text you his details later, he seemed pretty eager to get someone in so.. don’t take too long,” drumming his fingers onto the table.

“Yeah.. right, holy shit,” you remark, trying to take it all in. It’s unclear what to even say to him in this situation, thank you seemed too small but slathering his face in kisses was probably a step too far.

“I gotta go, let me know what you decide,” his smile honest and genuine as he grabs his coffee and heads to the door.

Just before he slips out, you jump back into action, “thank you!” beaming with pure unadulterated joy.

He nods, disappearing into the street as the door slams shut behind him.

You can barely contain yourself, practically skipping through the kitchen to go and find Eddie who you were absolutely certain was not going to share the same level of excitement you possessed.

“What’s got you so happy? He ask you out on a real date finally?” turning up his nose without you saying a word.

“Noo..” you chime in, still riding the high, kicking the door shut behind you, traipsing over to rest your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “so.. Steve said there’s a position going in Garson’s and it’s basically mine if I want it..” struggling to contain your grin.

His hands falter, brushing down your sides to now hang limp beside him, “what?” Unsure if what he had heard had been correct.

“There’s a job at Garson’s and it’s basically mine.. isn’t that great?” grabbing at the back of his neck. You were expecting a little more happiness than this, you can’t lie.

He looks almost offended. Features screwed up in pure confusion, as if you’d insulted his mother. “So you’re leaving? Some fancy job pops up from your fancy pants boyfriend and you’re suddenly abandoning us?”

“Wha- no? I’m not abandoning anybody,” removing your arms from his shoulder, “this is an opportunity to actually do something with my career, show everyone what I’m capable of,” you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just pretend to be happy for you.

He stands up, the chair making a god-awful noise behind him, “so you get to come in here, change everything and then jump ship as soon as something better comes along?” eyes that once looked at you with pure adoration now full of disgust.

You’re gobsmacked. Utterly speechless that he was acting like such a petulant jerk. You hadn’t seen this side of him since that night so many months ago in this very office.

“Eddie, what has got into you? This is good news! You didn’t expect me to stay here forever, did you?”

“I don’t know,” exasperated, “I just didn’t expect you to run to the next best thing so soon,” he looks venomous, mean.

“I’m not! He’s my friend and he’s helping me out.. why are you being like this?” he may as well have torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it in front of you.

Eddie scoffs, running a hand over his mouth, “your friend… who you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly has this great new job for you and has absolutely no ulterior motive? Ha, right.”

It finally clicks in your brain, he doesn’t really give a shit whether you stay or go. This was about hating Steve and being a jealous loser despite still not asking you to be his girlfriend.

“That’s what this is about? You think Steve.. what? That he wants to fuck me? You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

“It’s not about that,” raising his voice, chest puffed out. This was the Eddie you’d met and hated six months ago. You were sure you’d never have to deal with that prick again. “I don’t.. I don’t care what or who you do, I just think you’re a traitor and I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.”

Your face falls, blinking rapidly as the tears prick in your eyes. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat. He could be an evil prick when he wanted to be and before, it never would’ve upset you this much. But now it felt personal, like you’d let him in only for him to use everything you’d told him against you.

“Get out,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction at least, waiting until the door is slammed in your face to let them fall.

Humiliated and utterly pathetic as you flop into the chair, letting the tears fall free.

If he was trying to convince you to stay, then he’d failed. Majorly.

You’re hidden in the office for the remainder of the day. Courtesy of Eddie’s horrible words.

And he’s just a ray of sunshine in the kitchen. Clattering about as he drops pans, recklessly launching knives and utensils onto the counter.

Marcus has had enough of his tantrum, tapping on his shoulder, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” steering Eddie towards the back alley.

He slides down the brick wall, cigarette poised between his lips while Marcus mouths something to the rest of the beady eyed staff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asks, he’s genuine but stern. Has talked the boy down a multitude of times but this seemed different.

“She’s fucking leaving..” blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth, “some stuck up restaurant that dickhead Steve got her into.. that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Marcus’ mouth opens but doesn’t speak, deciding to get down to Eddie’s level, perching next to him on the floor, “and why’s that made you so angry? She break up with you as well or somethin’?” struggling to understand why he cares so much.

“No,” Eddie glowers at the floor, “you can’t break up if you’re not together. I’m just.. I’m pissed off, she came in here.. changed everything and now she gets to just move on like it’s nothing.”

Poor Marcus is trying to piece it all together in his head. Settling on the only sensible conclusion that maybe whatever was going on between you and him was perhaps a hell of a lot deeper than either of you were admitting.

“So.. you’re pissed that she made this shithole better? You sure that’s it?” questioning the validity of Eddie’s anger.

“What’re you tryna say?” Eddie snaps, gritting his teeth together. How dare Marcus not believe his incredibly flimsy words?

“That you’re not really angry ‘cause she’s moving on, you’re pissed because of this new guy and you think he’s.. he’s gonna take your spot or something? I can see right through you bro,” clapping his hand emphatically on Eddie’s shoulder, having caught him red handed.

Eddie glares at the man, snarling but unable to respond. Because he was right. Eddie is a pathetic, insecure loser who can’t bring himself to just admit to you that he was jealous of Steve. It was easier for him to just make you hate him than to be honest with you about how he felt, at least that way you didn’t have the opportunity to shut him down. You couldn’t reject him if you didn’t know.

“You’re gonna fuck this up forever if you keep acting like this,” Marcus sighs, getting up from the floor, “get in there and apologise or you’ll just push her right into his arms and I really don’t wanna deal with you if that happens,” flashing him a stern but well-meaning glare before disappearing back into the kitchen.

His eyes squeeze shut, and as much as he didn’t want to hear that, he knew he was right. Self-sabotage had always been his forte except this time he was truly terrified of the possibility of losing you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

There’s a quiet knock on your office door and you’re just about prepared to bite the head off of whoever dares to disturb you.

“Come in,” you bark, dropping the pen onto the desk in frustration.

A very meek Eddie peeks around the door, testing the waters to decide if it’s safe to fully come in without you throwing something at him.

Nothing collides with his head so he pushes the door open, holding onto a plate of pasta he’d made especially for you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, still deciding on the right words to say.

“You haven’t eaten all day..” he decides on, gingerly placing the plate in front of you on the desk, “you don’t have to eat it but don’t throw it away,” stepping back from the desk with extreme caution.

You’re taken aback, not at all expecting the kind gesture, blinking at the delicious food in front of you. “Can I have a fork..?”

“Shit yes I got one,” digging in his apron pocket for the utensil, laying it down next to the plate gently.

“Thank you,” you nod, poking your fork into the food. It is delicious and it was still warm which is an even better bonus.

He smiles slightly, “I wanted to say.. I’m sorry for being an asshole, you should..” trailing off into silence, swallowing the lump in his throat, “you should go for it, it’s a great opportunity,” reassuring himself even if he didn’t quite believe it.

You chew slowly, apprehensive about his sudden change in attitude. This surely hadn’t been a conclusion he’d reached on his own and you wonder just who in the kitchen had given him a pep talk before sending him in here. You appreciated it nonetheless. As weird and complicated as you guys were, you weren’t quite ready to give it up already.

“Really?” you look up, trying to gauge his reaction. It was evident that he was putting on a brave front and he still had some apprehensions about it all but for you he was willing to ignore them.

Your heart swells. Which makes you feel a little sick. In a good way though, well, you think so anyway.

“Yeah.. you’re a great chef and you deserve better than this shithole,” one side of his mouth twisting into a smile. The words are heavy and difficult to get out, but they’re true. He means it and would really do anything to ensure you were happy. Even if it did mean swallowing his pride and letting you follow that douchebag Steve.

You stand from your chair, rushing over to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you..” resting your chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

He was going to miss these little moments the most, he thinks. Shaking his head slightly when his mind flits to the thought of you in some other kitchen doing this with someone other than him.

“You want some food? Don’t wanna eat this whole thing myself,” pulling away from his grip, motioning back towards your desk.

“Thought you’d never ask,” masking the ache in his heart with a sloppy grin.

If his uncle had taught him anything, it was that you had to make sacrifices for the people you loved. Or thought you loved. Whatever.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to show his stupid little face again and it irks Eddie to know that you were probably texting with him this entire time. Getting excited about this new position with another man. Blergh. It was knocking him sick.

You look over Steve’s shoulder to give Eddie a small glance, smiling ever so tenderly as you disappear into your office. That should be enough confirmation that he truly had nothing to worry about. It was just a job. Oh God, what if you find someone else to bicker with? Look what had happened to you two.

That sicky feeling returns and he wants to bolt. But he doesn’t, he’s big and brave and instead chooses to focus on finely dicing some onions until you reemerge from your office. Whenever the fuck that would be.

It must be a whole half an hour before Steve walks through the kitchen, giving Eddie a sly pat on the back on the way out. Smug prick. He just grips the knife tighter, waiting for you to confirm that you’d be gone next week and that he should really start moving on before you left.

“Ed’s can I talk to you outside?” your voice snaps him out of his pity party, giving the rest of the crew what looked like a sympathetic smile, you’d tell all of them the bad news later.

He knew this was it. You were about to lay it all bare, tell him it’s okay, maybe we can still be friends? I hope you understand but I have to go and work at this fancy restaurant with my fancy high school boyfriend, sorry!

Reluctantly walking into the alley way, the alley way you’d shared many sneaky kisses, reassuring words and that one time you’d got carried away and almost gave him a hand job right then and there. It was painful, the once comforting aura of the brick walls had since vanished.

He’s already bracing for the worst, keeping his back to you as he walks further down the path. It’s the only way he could be sure that he wouldn’t end up begging on his knees for you to stay. And even then he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen.

“Will you look at me?” your voice echoing through his veins.

He does, turning on his heel excruciatingly slow. Bottom lip starting to sting as his teeth cut into the skin.

“When are you going?” solemn and miserable, honestly trying his hardest not to start pleading with you.

“Never,” shaking your head, “I’m staying here,” feeling incredibly smug. You looked it too, nose scrunched up as you grin at him.

Fuck. He’s not even sure if he’s heard that right. But the blood rushes back through his body and he almost crumbles, falling to his knees to thank whichever being up there had answered his prayers. The glum look he’d seemed to possess had vanished, grinning like a fucking maniac as he bounds over to you. One minute you’re on the floor and the next you’re being spun around, his arms almost crushing you.

“What? Why’d you change your mind? I- fuck I’m so happy,” setting you back on solid ground, much to your relief.

“Well, the thing is.. there’s this guy who works here, he’s a bit of an asshole but for some reason I really like him and he’s convinced me to stay,” fingers digging into his biceps, still afraid that you might become airborne at any moment.

There’s not time to catch your breath before he’s crashing his lips into yours with great force, sending you flying backwards against the wall. His hands grabbing at anything he could touch, travelling the length of your body to brace your cheeks. Keeping you steady, making sure this was actually real. Christ, he thinks he loves you.

Scrap that, he’s fucking certain that he loves you.

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