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#for a beta club meeting once i helped set up and had to move every table in the cafeteria

bimbobaggins69 · 4 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⟡𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your roommates come home from their date to find you in a bit of a compromising position…but what really sets them off is the jeweled plug you’re wearing.

⟡𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, steddie established relationship, no use of y/n, just a shit load of nicknames, talks of unrequited love (but it’s not), anal plug, kinda mean!eddie and mean!steve, fingering, unprotected anal sex, unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, free use sex, the boys using your holes, dp, squirting, cream pie, no plot just porn.

⟡𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I really don’t know where this came from, but I don’t ask questions about the things that inspire me… I took way too much time on this so pls TAKE IT! Also thank you to my babes @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @reidsbtch for beta reading <33

⟡𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

You’re exhausted, you’ve spent the last couple hours stress cleaning your shared apartment while your roommates are on a date. Why were you stressed you ask?

Well, the most problematic reason; the one that made it borderline impossible to focus on anything else was you were just plain fucking horny. You tried your vibrator in between cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen, then right after with the same disappointing results before finally giving up and tidying your bedroom… that was until you came across something you hadn’t seen since you moved into this apartment six months ago—

Your baby blue silicone butt plug, with the pretty heart jewel at the bottom of the base; so naturally in your absolute horny fog, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to put it on and wear it around while you finish cleaning and then hopefully when you’re done, you’ll be more worked up and can finally, finally finish with your vibrator.

Your roommates said they’d be out pretty much all night, which you figured meant they’d go out to some bar or club and then fuck and nap in the back of Eddie’s van before making their way back home…and if you’re on the topic of complete honesty, they were the main reason for this little dry spell you were having—

Imagine living with the two hottest and sweetest men you’d ever met, but they’re together and have absolutely no room for you no matter how bad you yearn for them. Why would they want you? They have each other and they’re so happy and in love, it makes your insides hurt. Of course you want nothing more then for them to be happy, they both deserve it more than anyone but how do you go on watching the two holders of your heart be happy while you have absolutely nothing to do with it?

It’s fucking pathetic and you need to get your shit together.

So to say the least, yes you have been completely and utterly sexually frustrated. I mean hearing them fuck almost every night does nothing to help these feelings and you haven’t made any efforts to move on, meet new people and possibly start dating. You can’t help but to reprimand yourself when the thought of holding out hope flashes through your mind. There was no hope left, you will never have Eddie and Steve as anything other than friends. And just because they’re bi and are also into women too, doesn't mean you have a shot, no matter how much you wish it did. It’s time to move on.

Once the blue plug is nestled deep inside of you with the help of copious amounts of lube and deep breathes, you get back to your stress cleaning just to get your mind off of all of your conflicting thoughts but decide to forgo your cotton shorts and panties in the process, keeping the oversized slayer shirt that Eddie had let you borrow, on.

Your last task of the day was to do laundry, you’d do a few loads before getting into bed with your vibrating friend, to finally get off like you’ve been trying to all evening.

But when you went to get your clothes out of the wash to put into the dryer, a sock that had been way out of reach had you hopping head first into the machine, and before you knew it a piece of your hair was caught in the agitator. Of course, just your luck!

No matter what you did or how much you pulled, the chunk was lodged in there and was not letting go anytime soon. You wanted to cry, absolutely break down and sob. What were you supposed to do now? Wait for the boys to come home and fish you out as your whole ass is on display? Not to mention the plug you have lodged up there. No no no, you would die from humiliation. So you didn’t give up, you pulled and pulled until eventually your arms and head got tired and you just kinda dangled there, then after a good five minutes you tried again but in your haste and heavy breathing, you didn’t hear the front door open or your name being called. Everything was muffled considering your head was stuck in a damn dryer!

“What the-” you finally hear from the doorway, making your eyes widen in horror.

“Do you um- do you need some help, sweetheart?” You can already hear the smug smirk on Eddie’s face without even looking.

“That would appear so.” You sarcastically quip with a roll of your eyes.

“Well fuck, I don’t know princess. This is quite the view.” He snickers, and you can feel the way his thigh roughly rubs against your calf.

“Munson, this is no time for your fucking jokes.” You spit through clenched teeth. “Please. Help. Me.”

“Babe?!” You hear Eddie call, only assuming he’s calling Steve over to witness the scene or maybe to help him get you out. As humiliated as you are you just want to be free and if Steve has to see you like this in the process, then so be it.

“Whoa!” Steve says as he enters the laundry room, a low whistle falls from his lips and you don’t know if it’s from the view or the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

“She’s stuck.” Eddie tells his boyfriend and you can still hear the remnants of a smile on his face.

“Please guys, please get me out of here.” You beg as your lower lip begins to jutt out in a pout.

“I don’t know Stevie, what do you think? You think we should help her out?” The metalhead chuckles to himself, completely elated with what was happening.

“Ya’ know, I don’t think we should help her out just yet. She looks so pretty like this.” The former jock confesses, and now you can feel his thigh rub on your other calf. You try your damndest not to clench your holes because it might be obvious with the whole plug in your ass.

“Guys c'mon, this is so embarrassing. Please?” You whine, but you can’t help but feel yourself start to drip at their taunting.

“Fuck, you have such a pretty ass, baby. I would’ve never guessed that you liked getting it stuffed.” Eddie groans and you have no idea what’s happening, but you’re not mad either.

“She does, doesn’t she? Can we touch you pretty girl? Promise after we’ll get you out of there.” Steve asks before rubbing what you could only assume was his hard cock against your leg.

“Yes, please.” You whimper as tears fill your eyes, all you’ve wanted for six long months was to be touched by them.

You feel a hand press against the plug, pushing it deeper inside of you before your ass is being slapped, a slight sting left in its place. Two fingers glide through your drenched folds, a loud groan being released from one of the boys’ chest.

“You’re so fucking wet, princess.” Eddie's low timbre has you fighting with yourself to not clench your thighs as Steve’s soft hand inches higher, long fingers gliding up closer towards the plug.

“Jesus Christ. Wanna take this out and see how you gape for us, pretty girl. Can I?” Steve asks, voice low and deep, creating light shivers to course through your body.

“Yeah, mhm you can.” You huff out as the washing machine digs into your stomach, not enough to hurt but your breathing is slightly constricted.

“So fucking desperate for this, arent you baby? Just a little butt slut for us? God, the things I’ve been wanting to do to this ass.” Eddie growls supplying your supple skin with another harsh slap.

“We can’t hear you little slut!” Steve scolded, grabbing the plug at the base before slowly pulling it out.

“Yes! I’m a desperate little slut! Please!” You gasp as you begin to clench around the plug as it’s being removed from your tight rim.

“That’s a good girl.” Eddie teases, as he and Steve laugh at your strangled whines.

Once the plug is removed, you hear a slick sound before a pop; the wet tip of a finger rubbing in circles around your sensitive, reddened hole.

A small gape is left in the blue plugs wake along with the lube that now begins to bubble and leak out, the finger continues its soothing circles before its prodding, the tip sinking in without hesitation making you whine louder.

“Oh she’s ready! This little hole is just sucking me in. She Wants to be filled so badly.” You now realize the finger belongs to Eddie as it sinks in even deeper, moans fall from your parted mouth as you writhe in desperation.

Steve’s fingers begin to prod at your core, completely saturated and dripping down your thighs, they roll over your clit before his fingers begin to slowly enter your pussy. You’re now full as both sets of fingers fuck into you, Steve’s digits curling down hitting that spot a couple inches from your entrance. The position you’re in made it awkward but when his expert fingers found that bundle of nerves hidden in your walls, your holes clenched around both boys and your legs tightened and shook as they dangled, hitting the cold metal of the white washing machine.

“You gonna cum already?” Steve mocked meanly making Eddie snort out a laugh. Their teasing was pushing you even closer towards the edge and you couldn’t understand why, you’d never been one for mocked comments at the hands of other men you’ve slept with, but coming from Eddie and Steve it made your core blaze hot and your head become spacey, absolutely empty as the pleasure continued to grow.

“Well cum for us then, baby.” Eddie grits with a hard thrust of his fingers.

Your moans grow louder, echoed from the metal walls. Your legs shake harder from the force of you keeping them spread, it’s a heavy feat cumming without snapping them shut like you’d usually do when you were alone, before this little dry spell of yours, that is.

“Such a good little set of holes.” Steve says, a cocky edge to his voice as he removes his fingers along with Eddie.

You hear the smacking of lips, wishing you could watch them kiss but before you know it you feel hands on you again.

“I need to get my cock in one of her holes.” Eddie groans as the jingle of a belt buckle being removed hits your ears and before you know it hot, sticky yet incredibly soft skin is being slapped, right over your stretched out hole.

“Mmm, you ready, pretty baby?” The metalhead asks, thrusting his cock between your cheeks.

“Please, Eddie!” You cry out with an impatient lilt to your voice, begging him to take you out of your horny misery.

His tip catches against your rim, sliding in nice and slow as he begins stretching you out far more than the plug and you can’t help but to tighten around him at the unfamiliar girth.

“Oh my god!” You mewl as he sinks deeper, inch by inch you’re being filled, his length feels like it goes on forever until finally he’s fully seated within you.

Once he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his size, he begins thrusting his hips at an unrelenting pace, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to water, it was so good, it was everything you’ve been wanting.

Steve leans over the machine, a chuckle erupts from deep in his chest, as he listens to you moan and babble about how good Eddie feels stretching you out.

“Feels so good doesn't it, baby? Love when Ed’s fucks me too.” He confesses as his hand begins to trail down your back, all the way to where you’re stretched by Eddie, his fingers rubbing over your filled hole and up Eddie’s shaft making you both moan louder.

“Alright Ed, my turn.” Steve huffs impatiently as his cock begins to grow borderline painful beneath his jeans.

Eddie begrudgingly pulls out, smearing the lube around his cock and stroking it as he moves out of the way for Steve to have his turn with you.

“Can I fuck your little pussy, honey?” The pretty boy asks as he grabs your legs, putting his hands under each thigh and raising your lower half higher so your pussy meets his cock at the perfect angle.

“You can fuck whatever hole you want.” You sob, desperate to feel that fullness again.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, just wanna be our little fuck toy, huh filthy girl?” Steve spits before pushing his tip into your dripping cunt, both of you cry out at the sheer pleasure you’re bringing to each other. Steve’s cock sinks deeper and you find yourself grateful he didn’t fuck you in the ass, his cock felt like it was splitting you in half, the most delicious stretch, but you couldn’t say it’d be as delicious had it been your other hole.

“Steve!” You whimper as your hands wrap around the big hunk of plastic your hair is caught in, trying your best to keep from being pushed further away with Steve’s unforgiving thrusts. The action causes you to almost bump your head on the back wall of the machine, and everytime he pushes you further away a pain shoots through your head as the agitator yanks it back with a strong grip on your strands. It almost feels like Steve has a chunk of your hair, held tight in his hand and now that’s all you can picture, causing you to gush around his cock— the pleasure and pain creating such a ripple effect of mini squirting orgasms that quite literally snuck up on you. Your body shakes as you moan, so sweet and feminine it’s just what Steve loves about fucking women and he has to suddenly pull out of you or run the risk of cumming too early.

“Did she- holy shit.” Eddie says as he takes one look at Steve's drenched and painfully purple cock. God, he wants to fall to his knees and lick every drop you gave him off, but he can tell Steve is already struggling, he knows that flush faced look, that’s his boy’s cum face. He’s decided he’ll reward him later for his willpower, maybe if they're lucky you’ll both reward Steve.

“Can’t believe she's a squirter, barely even touched her.” Steve scoffs; it’s so far from the truth, but the way he’s talking about you is so filthy and hot that you can’t help but to snap your legs shut and tighten.

“Uh uh, princess. Open back up for me.” Eddie tuts, while he brings his hands down to grasp at the meat of your thighs pushing them open enough for him to stand between, silver rings digging into your heated skin as he kneads at your flesh.

“How about we get you outta there now, sweetheart? How’s that sound?” The metalhead asks, growing tired of the awkward position, he wanted you where he knew you always belonged, right in between them.

“Yes, please.” You sigh with relief, as much as you were enjoying this your blood was starting to rush to your head, making you a little light headed.

Steve reaches in first, roughly pulling as he tries to release you from the agitators tight grip.

“Here let me see.” Eddie says after a few minutes as he grows impatient, just wanting to get his cock back inside you.

Even after Eddie tries and tries, you finally speak up with a whine of disappointment.

“There’s scissors in the kitchen drawer, you're just gonna have to cut it.” You huff before your body slips back into a defeated slouch.

“Are you sure princess?” Eddie asks, you can hear the sympathy in his voice as his head hovers over the washers opening, “well, I don’t think I have many options and I just really need you both to fuck me, so…” you hiss back in one more attempt to yank your hair free, with no luck.

“Alright I’ll be back in a sec.” Steve says as he jogs out of the laundry room, towards the kitchen. You and Eddie can hear drawers slamming as he looks for the scissors, the metalhead can’t help but to snort at his boyfriends obvious hunger to be back inside of you, he knows cause he feels it too and it’s something they’ve both yearned for, for more than just the six months you’d been living with them.

It happened when you were just Robin's close friend from work that they would see every other weekend when you’d all go out together; they’d agreed how beautiful, sexy and intoxicating you were, so sweet and bubbly and lively, they had non stop talked about asking if you’d maybe wanna hang out with them and see where things could go, but they didn’t wanna scare you; being in a relationship with two men who are already in a relationship can be a lot for someone, especially if that someone is used to strictly monogamous entanglements.

Then Robin came to them about you needing a place to stay and when you became their roommate they didn’t want you to feel cornered or like they only let you stay cause they like you, even though as time passed their feelings had grown even stronger, so yeah they couldn’t allow this opportunity to slip through their fingers.

“Got 'em!” Steve says with excitement as he rushes over to you, “okay, I’m gonna cut closest to the machine so I don’t take too much, just take a deep breath for me, baby.” Steve says, honey dripping from his sweet voice as he talks you through it.

“Good job, sweet girl. Okay, here I go. You’re doing so good, baby. One more snip and you’re free.” The smooth rasp in his voice makes your heart hammer, feeling it in your ears as you stay as still as possible while he cuts. Once it’s done you’re yanked up from the washing machine, Eddie hands you to Steve and you wrap your legs around his hips as he grabs the plush meat of your exposed ass.

“Are you okay, baby?” He whispers into your ear as he continues to grab and rub at your soft globes.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You murmur back as you place a gentle kiss to his neck, just under his ear.

“Do you wanna stop and grab a glass of water or get something to eat, princess?” Eddie asks into the side of your neck as he stands behind you. You can feel his hard cock as it rubs against your ass and Steve’s hand.

“No, what I need is for you both to fuck me, like right now…at the same time.” You whine as you begin to move your hips over the boys' laps, your ass and bare pussy moving back and forth over their obvious hard ons, you almost feel like a cat in heat, purring and moaning as they both kiss on either side of your neck.

“Okay, fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Eddie growls as he removes his dripping cock from his jeans, before spitting on his engorged, red tip and smearing it around with his tattooed hand. You jerk slightly when you feel his wet fingers prodding at your puckered hole, spreading the wetness in preparation to take him again.

“You ready, princess?” He asks as he rubs his tip against his target, the squelch from how wet he’s made your asshole makes your face burn hot. You can’t take much more of his teasing.

“I’m ready, I’m ready please.” You beg, it comes out breathless as if you’d just gotten the wind knocked out of you. Your desperation so clearly evident to them, that it causes both of their cocks to pulse with need.

“Okay, we’ve got you baby, gonna make you feel so good.” Steve whispers into the side of your face before leaving a gentle kiss on your jawline that lingers with a tingle when he pulls away.

“Ed’s, hold her legs for me really quick.” Steve mutters before he begins removing himself from the confines of his blue jeans. He gives his aching member a few quick tugs before he’s roughly grabbing you back from Eddie. This time his forearms slide under the backs of your knees, your ass slips down angled perfectly between their needy cocks. Steve’s hold on you tightens as his hands inch behind your back, the perfect position to fuck you on both of their cocks, passing you back and forth like some kinda fucked up game of hot potato.

Eddie begins to push in first, breaching the snug walls of your previously stretched out hole, how was it so tight again? The metalhead groans once he’s fully seated within your gripping confines, Steve takes it as a signal to begin his work of re stretching your cunt back out to perfectly mold to his size, the perfect little cock sleeve.

They begin thrusting simultaneously, causing the filthiest “uh!” to slip past your lips as your left hand shoots out to clutch onto Steve's brown locks while the right finds itself gripping the nape of Eddie’s neck. Three sets of glossy lust filled eyes find each other as your opened mouths breathe in each other's moans of ecstasy.

Eddie’s hands glide down to the globes of your ass, two of his flat palms pull the plump meat of your cheeks apart as his cock drives deeper into your second hole. Tears spring to your eyes as the boys use you for their own pleasure, it’s everything you’ve wanted for so long, you want to live in this moment forever between them as they give you their all.

The grunts and groans that hit the right side of your neck and the back of your left shoulder have you clenching both holes so hard you can already feel the beginnings of orgasmic bliss on the horizon, the heat in your lower stomach stirs and your legs work so hard not to snap shut as they’re still held wide open by Steve’s forearms; now shaking profusely.

“Please, please oh my god, I’m gonna— please!” Is all you can reverberate, as the filthy whines and pleads fill the cramped laundry room.

“You gonna cum for us, kitten?” Eddie mumbles into the back of your hair before planting an approving kiss there, as if to say ‘go ahead, you have my permission.’

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant as you clamp down even tighter on them, like a fucking vice grip making them whimper and whine as they both fuck you through it.

“Go ahead kitten, soak our cocks— get us all messy with your sweet girl jizz.” Steve couldn’t help but giggle at his boyfriend's ridiculous words, but he wouldn’t deny sweet girl jizz made his cock twitch in anticipation.

Eddie and Steve’s thrusts get even more ravenous as wet squelches, skin slapping and your feminine moans echo off of every wall in the apartment.

“You’re fucking her so good baby. Hear those pretty little noises she’s making for us?” Steve says before bringing his hands to his boyfriends hips and pulling him in even deeper, causing their cocks to rub together through you.

Your high hit you so hard, your moans and cries were silent as your body jerked, your eyes rolled back and your toes curled; a stream of wetness squirted out and hit Steve’s lower stomach with a splash as the rest covered Steve’s sneakers and Eddie’s boots, both boys groaned as they fucked you hard through your second orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it baby!”

“That’s a good girl!”

Both boys praise you, holding you tighter between them as your body goes lax from such an intense come.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Steve’s nose brushes against yours as his honey eyes study your face with the utmost concern.

“I’m so good.” You say back with a lazy smirk.

Their thrusts continue up when they realize you’re okay, now their only thought was hitting their peak; which was closer now after watching you come all over their laps.

“I’m gonna come, wanna fill you up, please princess?” Eddie whispers in your ear sending a deep pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“Mhm, want you both to fill my holes.”

They both lose it at your words, low grunts leaving their lips as their warm come fills you from both angles.

“Oh fuck! That was—” Eddie started, before Steve finished for him with a breathy and fucked out “Wow!”

They both kiss and hold you before letting your feet hit the cold tiles. Steve grabs a towel and cleans you up with a shy smile on his face, that you couldn’t help but find incredibly cute.

“How about we finish cleaning up and you go lay down in our bed? We can all cuddle and fall asleep. How’s that sound, kitten?” Eddie suggests.

“That sounds nice.” You say through a yawn.

Leaving both boys to clean the evidence of what just happened; the scissors and your hair, the wet puddle on the floor and the loose pieces of clothing scattered around.

Once you were gone Eddie broke the silence—

“Do you think we should ask her tonight or in the morning?”

“Let her get some sleep and then we can tell her how we feel tomorrow, and she can decide whether she wants to be with us or not.” Steve says as he wipes up your wetness.

“Do you think she’ll want us?” Eddie asks his boyfriend as his brown eyes fill with worry.

“I have a good feeling she does.”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #steddie x y/n #steddie x you #steddie stranger things #steddie x reader smut #steddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut

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nsheetee · 3 years

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One Foot in the Golden Life

Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course. Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])

a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!

You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.

The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.

The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.

When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.

However, today is different.

You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.

“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.

“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.

Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.

“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”

“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.

“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.

“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.

“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.

“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.

You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.

By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.

Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.

The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.

You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.

Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.

“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.

Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.

“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.

“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.

“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”

“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.

In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.

The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.

“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”

“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.

This is going to be a long game.

“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”

“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.

“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.

“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.

Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.

“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.

“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.

“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.

“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.

“Really? Which department?”

“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”

“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.

Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.

The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.

Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.

“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.

“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.

You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.

“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.

“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.

“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.

“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.

“Is that the only thing you can say?”

Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.

A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.

Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.

He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.

Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.

These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.

When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?

“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.

“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.

“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.

“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.

One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.

After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.

“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.

“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.

“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.

“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.

“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.

“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.

“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”

Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’

“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.

“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.

“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.

“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.

“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”

“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.

“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.

… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.

“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.

“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.

Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.

“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.

“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.

You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.

“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.

“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.

“You can go first.” You suggest.

“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”

“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.

“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.

“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.

“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”

“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.

You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.

“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”

He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.

“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.

“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.

“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”

“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.

“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.

“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.

“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”

Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.

“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”

“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.

“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.

“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”

“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.

“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.

“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.

Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”

The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.

“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.

“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.

He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”

The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is throwing at him with his eyes.

Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.

The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.

Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.

Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.

As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.

He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.

You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.

While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.

“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.

“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.

“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.

“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.

“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”

“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.

“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”

“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.

“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.

‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.

“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.

“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.

“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.

“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.

And what he wants right now is you.

He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.

There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.

“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself

“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.

“Do it.”

It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.

The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.

He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.

“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.

“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.

“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at you from his position.

“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.

“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.

When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.

“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.

“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.

That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”

You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.

“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.

“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.

“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.

“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.

Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.

“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.

“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.

“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.

“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.

“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.

“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.

“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.

There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.

“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.

“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.

Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.

“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”

“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.

“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”

3K notes · View notes

stariwrites · 3 years

Text

Part One

Red: An Underground Hero Deku x Crime lord fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI or else I’ll revoke your kneecaps

Author’s Note: All characters are aged up and this fic is a monstrosity so I figured I’d split it up into two parts this is part one and I’ll link part 2 as well when I post it

Tw: fem dom, corruption kink, praise kink, biting/marking, club setting, dry humping, slight choking, alcohol is mentioned (Izuku doesn’t drink it) use of the pet name baby boy, semi public sex

Thank you to @chaos-night for beta reading, I appreciate it!!

For @yixxes I hope you like it!!

Do not repost or share

“None are known to be good, till they have an opportunity to be bad”-Benjamin Whichcote

Summary: From the day you laid your eyes on Izuku Midoriya you knew you were going to be drawn to him.

From the day you laid your eyes on Izuku Midoriya you knew you were going to be drawn to him. There was something about the way the college student stood in front of you with his arms drawn into himself as if he shrank far enough he would disappear. You couldn’t help but smile softly at him.

The man in front of you was impressive to say the least even though he didn’t look it. He was able to track your group for days without your people even knowing. He documented everything in notebooks he carried with him. You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed the more he stared at you. He was trembling slightly, but his eyes never wavered. They held a fire behind them, one that you couldn’t even begin to describe.

“Midoriya, right?” you asked, folding your hands in front of yourself.

“What do you want with me.”

It wasn’t a question. Part of you grinned at the challenge. You had to give him credit, his voice only shook a small amount. Anybody else wouldn’t have been able to have the courage to do so, much less to you.

Standing up from your chair, you signaled to the guards on either side of the door to stand down when they tried to move closer, weapons raised.

“Do you know who we are?” you asked peering down at the streets below you. All Might was battling a water quirk user. You scowled at the scene before you, it was only a matter of time before he beat them to a pulp.

“I know,” he said slowly in an attempt to keep his voice level, “that you’re an organization dedicated to uprooting false heroes.”

Without turning around you gestured for him to continue. You watched his reflection in the window, he took a deep breath almost willing himself to talk once more.

“You took Endeavor down and made a deal with Stain.”

“Very good,” you clapped, turning back around to face him. He was focused entirely on you. ”Now do you know who I am?”

He didn’t hesitate, “The Woman in Red, heroes and villains alike haven’t been able to catch you. Nobody knows what your quirk is or if you even have one.”

You nodded to yourself, he showed promise. If you could use it to your advantage there would be no way your plan would fail. With his help you could uproot the fakest hero of them all.

“Tell me, what do you think of us Midoriya?”

It took him a couple of seconds to register what you said judging by the way his green eyes were transfixed on the destroyed All Might poster off to the side of the room.

“A reminder,” he jumped at the sound of your voice while his eyes fixed themselves onto you. “All Might isn’t the hero that everybody believes he is,” you watched his eyes widen at your words. Part you assumed it was from shock at the way you said them so carelessly, but there was something else there. It was swimming under the surface almost begging to be unleashed.

Before you could place it, he coughed and straightened his posture. He could’ve looked confident when he stood like that if he didn’t shrink into himself at the last moment. With the proper training he’d stand to his full size without feeling insecure.

“Why am I here?” his voice was softer than before, concealed. It made a vicious smirk cross onto your face. You couldn’t wait to help him unlock his true potential. The thought alone almost had you pouncing on him, but you refrained. You wouldn’t scare him away just yet.

You moved closer to him, allowing your nails to drift across the wood over your desk before using one of them to tilt Midoriya’s face closer to yours. He didn’t pull away.

“Because, Izuku Midoriya,” you refused to leave his gaze, “I want you to join Chimera.”

He gulped at the proximity, “And if I refuse?”

You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped your lips. He was too cute for his own good. You flicked your eyes to his before locking them on his lips.

“Then, I guess I’ll just have to find a way to persuade you,” you emphasized the words by moving closer until your lips brushed against his. You watched as he unconsciously closed his eyes and leaned into it, but before your lips fully touched you turned towards the door.

You didn’t miss the pout that crossed onto his face when you broke away, but he missed the sadistic smile you wore as you gestured for the guards to file out. All you received in return was a nod from them until they headed out the door.

When it was your turn you held the door open, but before leaving you met his gaze one last time.

“I’ll give you two weeks to make a decision, until then I look forward to our next meeting,” you purred and leaned against the open door in a way that rivaled Jessica Rabbit, “Izuku Midoriya.”

After you spoke those final words you left with a laugh while he stood in the dark room wondering what just happened.

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“She wants you to join, huh?” Aizawa said from where he was perched on the rooftop. His eyes were scanning below, from the lights of the buildings Midoriya could make out the bags under the man’s eyes. It had to be a late night that was for sure.

Part of Izuku felt guilty pulling the man away from much needed sleep, but being an underground hero he needed allies and the only one with enough experience was Aizawa.

“What should I do?” he asked, moving out of the darkness and closer to the man. He watched the capture scarf blow in the wind slightly while he shivered. It was becoming colder even in Spring, he’d have to get warmer gear.

Out of the corner of his eye Aizawa seemed to notice because a soft smile slid onto his face, “I told you to bundle up problem child, but you never listen.”

Before Midoriya could say anything a jacket was flung his way, he jumbled it until he was able to hold it steady. Peering down his eyes widened with disbelief.

“Are you just going to stand there or put it on?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Stumbling out a yes, he wrapped the jacket around him and zipped it up. It was sleek, light fitting but also warm. Izuku couldn’t help but sink into the feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, but wearing that coat he felt like he received the biggest embrace in the world.

A peaceful silence fell over the two of them while they stared out at the streets below. It was a quiet night, the only sounds were of the cars driving by and an occasional group of friends walking past. Their voices echoed off the buildings and were burned into Izuku’s ears.

He wondered what that was like, having friends. He knew going down the path he was on would be dangerous. He couldn’t have time for them if he was going to save people, especially since there was a chance they could become targets.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if his life would’ve been different if he’d had them when he was younger.

“I think,” Aizawa began, causing Izuku to fix his eyes onto his mentor. “That you should do it. You can get into their organization and gain intel, be a double agent of sorts.”

Izuku’s heart stopped. “Me?” he sputtered, “Do you really think I could pull something like that off? Half of the pro heroes have tried to take Chimera down and they’ve come up empty handed everytime! And besides the only reason I followed them was to bring the information to you!

How do you know I won’t end up like the others?”

“I don’t,” came the response. Izuku expected that to be it and for Aizawa to leave, but instead he turned to Midoriya and placed his fist on his protege’s chest, “But if there’s one thing I know it’s that if anybody could take down Chimera it would be you.”

Izuku focused his gaze onto the ground until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa shot him a look of genuine faith. “She went out of her way to try and recruit you. I doubt she’ll want to hurt you, but keep your guard up.”

With a nod of understanding followed by an “I will”, the man took that as his cue and began to walk towards the edge of the building.

“You don’t have to of course, but if you do, don't try to do everything on your own kid. You’ve got me. And it’s about time you actually started working on the front lines rather than behind the scenes.”

With that he was off, a sigh left Midoriya’s lips. He’d been told time and time again that he wasn’t cut out for field work. Not with college he was juggling as well as the fact that his lack of a quirk was always taken into account. He stared up at the sky, he couldn’t remember when he became like this.

He thought back to the earlier times where he constantly believed he could be a hero. He still believed, but it was subdued. Sad even, but he’d try. If he could take them down it would mean helping more people.

“I wish you were here, mom,” he said to the stars while tears began to slide down his face, “I’m a little lost right now.”

————————————————————————------------------------------

The two weeks seemed to crawl by. Izuku was getting restless. He knew his decision, but he couldn’t find Chimera anywhere. He checked every back alley, store, restaurant that the members usually went in and came up empty handed. Even when he did find the members and tried to follow them shouting wait or slow down it was like they’d disappear at the last second.

After running around for nearly three hours he found a bench next to a nearby park and took a seat. He tossed his head back, attempting to get all of the air he lost back. His clothes stuck to him uncomfortably while his forehead was making his hair stick to it.

They sure can run when they really want to, he thought in between puffs of air. He didn’t know how he’d make it through patrolling, especially now. He dreaded the thought, clutching his side at the reminder. He managed to take Muscular down but not without the villain getting a few hits in. It was worth it though, considering Koda’s smile once he was discharged from the hospital.

Yeah, he thought looking up at the sky with a serene smile. It had been worth it.

After catching his breath, he was about to get up from the bench until a person sat down next to him with a note. They didn’t look at Midoriya, instead they were focused straight ahead. The shades made it difficult to see their eyes, while their hoodie and jeans made them look like an ordinary person.

“An invitation,” the person grumbled out, “Don’t be late.”

Izuku didn’t watch them go, flipping the envelope over he noticed neatly scrawled out cursive. The envelope itself was red with a wax gold stamp. A chimera was in the center while the cursive was in gold. He didn’t open it until he was safe in his apartment.

His breath hitched as he read the words over and over again to make sure he had them right. Once he realized he did, he texted Aizawa on the burner phone they used specifically for underground work and buried his head in his hands.

“What am I getting myself into?”

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The neon lights bathed everybody into an ocean of colors. People were swarmed into the center of the room, dancing and grinding on anybody close to them. The bass caught in Midoryia’s chest as he navigated through the crowd. He glanced around, taking all the strobing lights in. The letter said to meet at The Tavern, but it never specified where.

After bumping into several people and almost being roped into dancing, he finally found the bar. He took a seat and checked his phone as he waited for his nerves to calm down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to one of these. He thought back to freshman year when he first started out he’d gone to a local club to see what it was like only to realize he wasn’t really fond of it.

“Not exactly your scene is it?” a bartender asked, sliding him a drink. Midoriya looked up at the woman with a sheepish smile. She looked to be about his age, her short hair framing her face. Earphones were dangling from ears. Must be her quirk, Izuku thought with excitement. Her pierced brow was raised as she stared at Midoriya.

“Is it that obvious?”

She hummed for a moment, studying him before she nodded, “Nobody wears a shirt that says ‘Club Shirt’ on it. It’s an interesting pick.”

He flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew he should’ve gone with something different.

“Yeah,” he said trailing off until his eyes landed on the drink.

“I don’t—”

Before he continued the woman stopped him, “It’s on the house, you’re waiting for her aren’t you?”

He was about to ask how she knew when you sat down next to him with a smile, “I see you’ve met Jirou, my most trusted friend.”

Izuku watched as the woman, Jirou’s face turned bright red. He almost thought he heard a don’t mention it before she went off to serve more drinks, leaving him with you.

He was nervous, that much was easy to tell with the way his eyes kept jumping from corner to corner. Poor thing you thought while his leg bounced up and down. Part of you cringed, he felt out of place.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

The sound of your voice over the music snapped his attention back to you. Taking his blank stare and furrowed eyebrows as a sign, you huffed out a laugh and repeated yourself. He joined in albeit nervously.

“It’s okay,” he said, stirring his drink with the straw, “You planned to meet here. I don’t want to cause any trouble,” he took a deep breath, “Boss.”

You turned to him with wide eyes before waving him off as you leaned closer to the table, “You don’t have to call me boss you know,” you said nonchalantly, “Not even the guards call me that.”

He couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. How you were able to be so calm in a place like this was beyond him, but it helped him relax. With furrowed brows he focused back on his straw. The ice clanked against the glass, but he couldn’t hear it over the song playing.

“What should I call you then?”

Just like the first time you met, you used one of your fingers to tilt his head up, he could feel your breath mingle with his while his face turned a vibrant shade of red. He silently thanked the lights for making it almost impossible for you to see it. He watched as your eyes clouded over while a sinister smile fell onto your face. It made him feel small underneath it.

Before he could say anything, you leaned in close to his ear.

“I have a couple ideas,” your words sent goosebumps to ripple against his skin while his mouth felt dry. He wanted to know what they were, wanted to ask. What was going on with him?!

He didn’t have much time to dwell once he felt your breath ghost against his neck. It was warm and sent shivers down his spine. He briefly felt the touch of your lips against him, part of him hoped you wouldn’t pull away.

“Please,” he rasped before he could stop himself. Your lips curled into a grin, one of your hands snaked from the table to bury itself in his green hair.

“Let’s get out of here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

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The cool air of the outside clashed with the warmth from the club. Izuku barely processed your lips meeting only to find that in the next minute he was up against the brick wall behind the club. Your hands tangled themselves into his green curls causing him to whimper against your lips.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pussy clenching at the sound he made. You wanted to hear more, wanted him to scream. You placed your knee in between his legs, he instantly started to grind down on your thigh. He tried to pull away from you, but that only made you hold his curls tighter before letting him go. A string of saliva was all that left the connection until you wiped it away with the back of your sleeve.

Izuku’s face was flushed as he tried to catch his breath. Everything about you was intoxicating, especially the way you looked him up and down like he was your prey. He was still grinding against you, his puffs of air were visible in the night. It wasn’t until you touched his side that he flinched.

You pulled your hand away in concern, but he was quick to shush you with the way his lips latched back onto yours. He could tell you about the wound later, you thought. His lips were soft against yours, when you met for another kiss you opened your mouth. Catching the hint, he opened his mouth enough for you to snake your tongue into his mouth. Judging from the way he was grinding faster against you with broken moans you could tell he was enjoying himself.

You pushed him further into the wall, it was surely digging into his back by now, but he made no sound of pain. You made sure to avoid his waist, instead you grabbed a hold of his belt loops and yanked his lower body into an arch.

“Oh my god,” Midoriya groaned, tossing his head back against the wall. He needed more, you were everywhere, breathing into his neck, sucking and biting the skin there. Weakly he went to push you off.

“No marks-can’t ah-can’t ngh cover them.”

A grin casted onto your face. He was so cute like this, all sprawled out under you just as you knew he’d be. You kissed the skin close to his pressure point before staring directly into Izuku’s eyes. Your lips brushed against each other. His eyelashes fluttered as he went to close the space, but you held his neck with one hand and pressed him back.

“I don’t think so baby,” you whispered. Your voice lower in pitch. You didn’t miss the way his pulse jumped under your fingers. Your eyes widened in shock until you gained back control. This was more interesting than you thought. “Does the little hero like this, hm? You like being helpless?” To emphasize your words, you guided his hips with one hand and ground him against your thigh once more.

A high whine escaped his mouth before he could prevent it. He knew this was wrong, that he should stop this but the way your hand made him dizzy around him and the pressure against his cock caused his mind to become fuzzy. What Aizawa didn’t know didn’t hurt him anyway.

“Please,” he whimpered, meeting your leg. He wanted more--no he needed more. “I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything just please.”

“Such a needy little thing aren’t you?” With a huff you slowly stop moving. Tears sprang into the corners of Midoriya’s eyes as he thrashed in an attempt to bring some of the pleasure back, but you only moved your leg away. Broken no’s spilled from his lips and into the cracks of the brick wall. He’s a mess of babbles and pleas. You wait a second longer until you lick a tear from his face, starting at his chin and stopping just below his cheek bone.

He’s about to thank you when you send him a devilish smirk and drop to your knees in front of him. The sight alone causes him to reach his high. You let him calm down, rubbing his thighs through his jeans. You whisper soft encouragements that he can barely decipher.

Looking up at him you can see that his pupils are still blown wide while his chest is heaving up and down. Under the neon red light he looks perfect. You want to devour him, but you hold back. Soon he’d learn how to get hard just by your words alone, but first you’d have to train him.

It isn’t until he comes down from his high that he realizes what he’s done. Mortification falls over him faster than you thought from the way his face flushes even further. You wished he wasn’t in so many clothes, you could almost bet that the same would be found on his neck leading to his chest.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to, I tried holding it in but-”

Slowly, you rose to your feet and before he could stumble over more excuses you kissed his cheek whispering “Good boy,” into his ear. If Midoriya hadn’t just cum he would’ve from those words alone.

You laughed softly at his body’s reaction before breaking away from him fully. You don’t miss the pout that formed on his face when you stepped away. At first it was cute, but now seeing it after this made something snap. You quickly grabbed him by the jaw and traced your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Such a sweet little mouth, making all those pretty sounds earlier, but I think I have more uses for it rather than just pouting,” you locked onto his wide eyes. “Wouldn’t you say, Midoriya?”

He could only nod against you, completely trapped under your gaze. You had him right where you wanted him. “Well then baby boy,” you said detaching yourself once more. “Get to work.”

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

Midoriya woke up in a cold sweat for the umpteenth time that week. He fell back into the pillow with a groan. It had been weeks since that encounter and he was desperate to do it again. He couldn’t escape the sound of your moans echoing in the night or the way your nails dug into his hair just right to send waves of pleasure zipping down his back. And the way you tasted, he craved feeling you against his tongue, drowning in you.

However now that he was officially part of Chimera after being tested the night after he was able to taste you, it had been pretty standard. There was nothing out of the ordinary, the organization ran just like how any other underground facility would. Midoriya had his own jobs that he had to handle such as keeping track of shipments and making sure nobody was caught. He didn’t have much to report back to Aizawa which caused the older man to worry.

Izuku huffed at the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Speak of the devil. Why couldn’t the man just leave him alone? He knew what he was doing and what he went there to do. Even if his mind was preoccupied with you, he would still put Chimera down first and besides you weren’t serious about him either.

Without looking at the contact he put the phone up to his ear. “Look Aizawa I’m fine I don’t need you checking up on me every second of every day so please just this once don’t contact me on my day off.”

Izuku expected to hear the gruff voice sigh into the other line and promptly begin telling Izuku why checking in is important because it could mean the difference between life and death which, being an underground hero, the lines tend to blur.

Instead, there was a delayed pause followed by a low whistle, “And he lets you talk to him like that? I’m impressed.”

At the sound of your voice, he instantly shot up from the futon. “Boss, hey um why are you calling?” His blood froze for a second. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?!” He tossed the covers off of him and was about to head to his dresser to change when his foot got caught in the sheets causing him to crash to the ground.

You heard the loud bang on the other line causing you to snort. There was a heavy sound of stomping followed by another brief crash that caused you to look out into the city with a smile. You were reminded in that moment that he was still a college student, so full of life.

“Nope, I was just calling to check in.”

Midoriya scowled on the other end of the phone. “You and Aizawa both. I’m fine if that’s what you’re wondering. I have all my body parts intact and none of them are broken,” he even wiggled his hands and sat back on the futon to swing his feet even though you couldn’t see him. “Thank you very much,” he said dryly.

You hummed, mulling over his response. Ever since he joined he’s been more sure of himself, capable. It was an accepted change, after all he needed to be strong. Especially if your plan was going to work. After all, the stronger they are the more fun to break.

“He and I are alike then. You do realize that there’s a very fine line between life and death, right? People like us have to stick together.”

“How are you both the same person?”

That question alone had you laughing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Midoriya, but I do have something you can do for me.”

He perked up at that. “What is it?”

“I’ll pick you up, how does noon sound?”

“Yes-” he said all too fast before coughing. “I mean yeah sure, whatever works for you.”

“Good, be sure you’re ready early, I always come on time.”

With that you hung up the phone and spun back to face your office desk. Phase one was complete, now you could move on to phase two. Leaning your head on the desk, you could feel rather than see Jirou’s eyes boring holes into your forehead.

“Why aren’t you worried about Midoriya?”

You cocked you head to the side. “Why would I need to be worried?”

“He’s working with Aizawa.” It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be. You knew Izuku was working with the man for years before he even discovered your group, but that didn’t matter. You thought back to his confidence, how he was able to give orders and stand up for himself now, but still looked at you to make sure he wasn’t speaking out of turn. It caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach.

“Rest assured, Midoriya won’t be a problem. After all,” you said interlocking your hands on top of the desk. “I have him wrapped around my finger.”

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alienaiver · 3 years

Text

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!!

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask. “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #waaaaah im so nervous about this!!!! i basically cranked it out in less than 24hrs ngl.... i had 1.5k of beautiful words before i came u #P WITH A WHOLE OTHER PLOT!!!! :-)#if any of u get the ref of the title i love u and we need to play mp together lmao <33333 #also kenhina and tsukiyachi is mentioned!#both reader and kuroo r A MESS #stay tuned for part 2!!!!!!#nohr.writing #half the battle series #im gonna dig a hole real quick to hide in hehehe #honestly im not sure this is entirely coherent i had so much.... i wanted to force into it im afraid some of it feels out of place but!!!#here we go!! face the fear lmao!!!!

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lunar-jimin · 4 years

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i can be temptation, you can be my sin

Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: smut, tiny side of angst and fluff, office!au (not the TV show), coworkers!au

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!Jimin, sub!reader, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, degradation, reader sends nudes

Summary: Between bragging about his prolific sex life and his horrific design ideas, Jimin has managed to make your work life a living hell. Then one little accident sends you hurtling towards him, and as hard as you try, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

A/N: This is a commission for @ppersonna for @ficswithluv‘s ChangesWithLuv project dedicated to raising money for BLM. I’m so sorry this fic took forever to write (I’m not sure why), but I hope that you enjoy it! A huge shout-out to my lovely beta-reader, @jinterlude. She’s the best!

| m.list |

“Jimin…” a groan tumbles out of you, “that shade of yellow is-“

“Bright and comforting?”

“-awful.”

His thick lips curve into a pout, eyes doing little to conceal his mock hurt. Exasperation runs through your body, grasping your brain in its clutches. Your entire week has been filled with Jimin’s progressively hideous design ideas for a book cover, to the point you’re beginning to wonder how he got hired at all. The piss-yellow mock-up in front of you is just another straw in the stack that is going to break your back.

“What?” he looks confused, “You said you wanted something eye-catching, and I would have to say this is pretty darn, eye-catching.”

“It’s blinding is what it is. Maybe if we toned it back a bit…” your eyes drift over the design, horror twisting in your gut.

You want to cry. A week ago, your boss had enthusiastically paired you with Jimin to design a book cover for an up and coming YA author, claiming the two of you were the best designers she had, even promising the both of you a promotion if things went well. You aren’t sure what designs Jimin had produced in the past, because what he was bringing to the table now wasn’t much better than a shitty college club poster.

Jimin didn’t make for great company either. Sure he had legs that went for miles, and a face that would outshine angels, but his mouth was filthy. If the two of you weren’t bickering over fonts and hex codes, you were stuck listening to him brag about how loud he could make a girl scream. What’s worse is that while your brain was logical enough to know that Jimin was no good for you, your body had other ideas. As a result, you often went home after a long day, frustrated in more ways than one.

With a little luck- and quite a bit of compromising- you manage to make it to five ‘o’clock without murdering anyone. You manage to talk Jimin down off the yellow in exchange for completing the pitch presentation by yourself. Presentations are time-consuming and tedious, but it’s better than being out of a job because Jimin is set on making the cover look like a neon highlighter.

A half an hour later, you're collapsing on your soft couch, ready to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. A sigh of relief carries an iota of the stress out of your body as you sink back into the welcoming cushions. You grimace as the tension in your neck became apparent, and you feel the growing ball of angst you have for Jimin tighten. You were going to send him the bill if you had to go to a chiropractor.

In an attempt to move on from your hectic week and into your relaxing weekend, you wander to the kitchen, searching for the merlot you have yet to open. The tall green bottle greets you from the counter. You find a glass and watch as the red liquid quickly fills it. You savor a long sip as you let your mind stray away from the thoughts of work and stress and into notions of self-care and relaxation.

An hour later, having eaten a frozen pizza, you find yourself soaking down into the hot bath suds. The heat begins to draw the ache out of your sore muscles. Once again, Jimin flashes through your mind, coupled with resentment. Your eyes prickle at the thought, sick and tired of Jimin living in your mind rent-free. Why is he preoccupying your brain instead of Seokjin, the cute cook you matched with on Tinder?

While you had yet to meet in person, you and Seokjin had hit off right away when he opened with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. He worked at a five-star restaurant a few blocks from your office, but you’d never met in person. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t had a few scandalous conversations. You weren’t usually one for sexting, but Seokjin’s way with words left you little choice.

Eager to take Jimin off your mind, you grab your phone from the side of the tub, quickly opening your messages. You’re much too impatient for small talk, so in the interest of sparking some saucy dialogue, you take a few snaps of your bubble-covered nude body. You suck in a breath as you hit send, anxious for your reaction. It wasn’t the first time you had sent him a nude photo, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. Seokjin was one of the most attractive men you had ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, and it was only natural for you to question your appearance in comparison to his. He would always reassure you, though, flattering you with compliments, both sultry and sweet.

When he doesn’t respond fifteen minutes, a knot forms in your stomach. What if he didn’t like them? What if he was seeing someone else? What if he lost interest? You check your messages with hurried concern. What you find on your screen mortifies. In your haste to tease Seokjin, you had accidentally sent the photos to the last person you texted: Jimin. Worse yet, the little grey “read” sits just beneath the last picture. As you stare at the screen with abject horror, a little speech-bubble pops-up. Your stomach twists in knots, anticipating of what he might say striking you with fear.

The Office Brat: if you wanted a piece of me baby girl, all you had to do was ask 20:33

You suck in a breath when he immediately follows the text with a picture of his own. He’s shirtless, lip between his teeth as he grabs his prominent erection through grey sweatpants. You can’t help the whine that slips out of your mouth at the image. You try to ignore the heat that rushes to your core as your legs rub together. When your senses finally return to you, you drop your phone on the bath mat before sinking into the water, leaving only your face out. The photo is still seared into your brain, taunting you with his delicious abs and what turned out to be a healthy sized dick.

You immediately resolve to forget it ever happened. You spend the rest of the weekend attempting to distract yourself through a binge of every cheesy rom-com you can find on Netflix. You sent Jimin a quick text, informing him that the photos weren’t actually for him. He hadn’t responded, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. It certainly didn’t aid the dread building in your stomach at the thought of having to face him again on Monday.

When you walk into the office two days later, you’re relieved to find that Jimin seemed nowhere to be found. You pray that he actually had an iota of shame and quit out of humiliation. Your hopes are crushed when not five minutes later, you notice him prancing toward your cubicle, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. When he reaches you, he plops down in an extra desk chair, arms crossed across his chest, eyes looking you up and down. You can’t help but shiver at the knowledge that he knows precisely what you look like underneath your work clothes.

“What do you want, Jimin?” you sigh.

“Haven’t I made that obvious, baby?” He grins. “I want you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jimin, what happened this weekend was an accident,” you give him a firm glare, “so no matter how much you claim to want me, I want nothing to do with you.:

He raises his eyebrow, eyes locked on yours, before standing and walking to you. His breath is warm on your neck as he leans over to whisper in your ear. You clench your thighs in an attempt to extinguish the heat beginning to burn in between them.

“We’ll see about that, now won’t we, baby girl?”

He pulls away with a smirk, before turning to head to his desk. Your eyes trail to his ass as he leaves, only worsening the situation in your underwear. You silently vow to yourself not to fall for his tricks. You have more self-respect than to allow yourself to be yet another notch in Park Jimin’s bedpost.

Brushing thoughts of your troublesome coworker from your mind, you turn back to your bright computer screen, determined to lose yourself in your work. Your eyes widen when you find an email from Jimin taunting you in your inbox. Heart pounding fast, you click on it, half afraid to find another nude of his (it wouldn’t be beyond him). Instead of a naked Jimin, a PDF with the details for the cover design presents itself. You’re taken aback. Not only had Jimin swapped the yellow for soft coral, but he practically redesigned the entire thing. Scrolling through, you’re embarrassed to admit that it was nearly as good, if not better, then some of your best works.

You immediately realize that this means he’s been pulling your leg for over a week. A groan escapes you, and your head falls forward, smashing into your keyboard. Of course, he was a fucking amazing graphic artist; you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Fury floods down your spine as it dawns on you that it was all a trick to get out of doing the PowerPoint. Now you were stuck making an entire presentation, just because Jimin had pretended to love piss-yellow.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to march to his desk and strangle him. White anger flashes in front of your eyes, resentment growing to cover every waking thought in your brain. When you finally calm enough to rationalize that murder isn’t going to get you anywhere, you decide that your best course of action is to avoid him until the day of the two of you are scheduled to present to the board.

The world isn’t being kind to you today, because when you finally head to the break room for lunch, you immediately run into your new worst enemy.

“What’s got your panties in a knot now, love?”

You glare at him, not trusting yourself not to stab him with your salad fork. He smirks in response, before turning to leave. At the last second, he turns back to you.

“Have fun with that PowerPoint.”

You want to scream.

“Jimin, I swear to god, you little shit, I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what? Spank me?” His cheeky grin widens. “You know, baby, I’m usually a dom, but if it meant feeling your sweet pussy, I’d definitely be a sub.”

You are lucky that no one else is around to hear his words because you are mortified enough. Red creeps across your face as Jimin winks at you. When he finally leaves, you collapse back onto the counter, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You swear to high heaven that you’ve never hated someone so much in your life, yet feel so attracted to them at the same time. As infuriated as you are with him, you are even more infuriated with your inability to control your body’s reaction to him.

Why did he have to know exactly what to say to soak your panties? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to sleep with him? Why did you ever have to be assigned to him in the first place? These questions plagued your mind as the week trickled slowly on. Your anger with Jimin was beginning to be diluted with anxiety about your upcoming presentation. No part of you looked forward to standing in front of the company board to make a potential career-changing pitch with the person you hated most in the world. Not to mention public speaking made you want to hide under a rock and never come out.

Thankfully, Jimin is kind enough to offer to do most of the talking- even if his original deal included a blow job- but it also meant you had less control if things started to go south. By the time Friday rolled around, you’re shitting yourself with fear. Jimin does his best to calm you down as you sit in hard plastic chairs outside the boardroom, waiting to be called in.

“Look, we’ll do fine. You made an amazing presentation, and I’m pretty brilliant at charming people if I do say so myself.”

He reaches over and gives your hand a small squeeze. You’re just nervous enough to offer him a small smile. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t terrible at comforting people.

“Thanks, Jimin. I’m sure everything will go great.”

Everything did not go great. In fact, it went very, very badly. Somewhere out there, someone must have hexed you because that’s the only reason you can think of that would explain why you placed Jimin’s original yellow design in the slideshow instead of his new one. You feel terrible. Not only have you fucked up in front of the entire company, but you’ve put both of your jobs on the line.

As soon as the meeting ended, you rushed off to the bathroom. You already embarrassed yourself enough as it is, you don’t need everyone to see you cry too. Tears roll down your face as you sit on the toilet, praying for the sudden end of your existence.

You had one job and somehow you had managed to fuck it up. You managed to ruin your career. You’re going to end up jobless. Broke. Destitute.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts by a knock at the door.

“Doll? Are you in there?”

Jimin’s voice is soft and comforting, and if you weren’t so afraid of humiliating yourself, you would have gladly welcomed his arms around you. But you are, so you try to stifle your sobs in an attempt to make him go away.

“Doll? I know you’re in there. I can hear you crying,” he sighs, “Please just let me in. I just want to talk.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you debate your options. If he already knows you’re crying, what difference will it make if he sees you? You stand up from your seat on the toilet, make a quick attempt at cleaning up your ruined makeup, and hesitantly open the door to let him inside.

He immediately takes you in his arms, closing the door behind him. The feeling of his body wrapped around yours only serves to induce more tears, and you find yourself crying into his shirt collar.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” you hiccup, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I used that one. I’m so sor-”

“It’s okay, baby.”

You pull away to look at his eyes.

“What? How can you say that? I ruined the presentation, and we’ll be lucky if they want us to come back to work tomorrow.”

“They loved it.”

“What?”

“They loved it. They thought it was bright and innovative and really demonstrated that we understood design enough to push its limits.”

You look at him in shock. They loved it. They thought it was great. Your job was safe. You weren’t going to be fired. You may even receive a promotion.

“Feel better, doll?” He smiles down at you.

For once in your life, you return his smile, while shaking your head in affirmation.

“Well, then…”

You’re still smiling but suddenly unsure of what to do. Jimin’s hands are still on your waist, and you hated how aware of them you’re becoming. He seems to notice at the same time and quickly pulls them away.

“I have a question.” His voice is soft and shaky, and his eyes shift from side to side, seemingly unable to focus on you.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

You’re taken aback. Jimin, who was usually so confident and larger than life, is now standing before you, small and meek, like an underfed puppy begging for scraps.

“I, I don’t hate you, Jimin.”

“But you must,” his voice is curt, “You never flirt back with me, yet I see you tease Hoseok all day long. You never laugh at my jokes. You never praise my work. As soon as I come anywhere near you, you close up. You snap at me, and you have no patience with me. You avoid me at all costs. So let me ask you again: why do you hate me?”

This time, instead of avoiding eye contact, he stares at you like he’s trying to read your soul.

“I really don’t hate you, Jimin.”

He raises his eyebrow.

“I just don’t want you to hurt me.”

He looks genuinely confused at your statement.

“How could I possibly hurt you?”

“The same way you hurt all those other girls.”

“What other girls?” His voice rises with defense.

“You know, the ones you sleep with in bathrooms, only to leave them broken-hearted when you never so much as glance their way again? The one’s you brag about fucking every chance you get until I want to slam my head into a brick wall? The ones that prove you’re nothing but a narcissistic fuckboy whose only goal in life is to get his dick wet? Those are the girls I’m talking about.”

Jimin looks shocked before his face morphs into an angry scowl, eyes heated and alert.

“That’s what you really think about me? That I’m a no-good player who uses girls for their bodies? Do you really think I trick girls into sleeping with me? Because you're wrong. They know what they’re getting into when they agree to restroom rendezvouses, but they always seem to convince themselves that they can convince me that I should be in a relationship with them. That’s not my fault. I would never sleep with someone under false pretenses. And I bragged about them because I wanted you to like me! Do you not get that? I don’t ever try this hard to get anybody to sleep with me, but I like you. I like you a lot, and this whole time you just thought I was a misogynistic fuckboy because you never cared to get to know me better.”

Jimin is seething, like a dog that went feral. His chest rises with heavy breaths as he backs you into the wall, eyes staring down yours. You let out a small whimper when he leans into your ear, hot breath ghosting your neck.

“If you think I’m such a fuckboy, then a fuckboy is what you are going to get.”

Before your brain can properly register his words, his lips are covering yours in a desperate kiss. Despite your lack of cognizance, you respond immediately, lips moving against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. His hands ghost down your side before he grabs your ass with a rough squeeze, eliciting a whine from your mouth.

He flips you around before bending you over the sink, eyes holding yours in the mirror reflection.

“I think you’ve been a bad girl, don’t you agree? Leaving me with blue balls just because you think you’re better than me.”

Words fail you, so you nod instead. His hand slips under your skirt, softly massaging your ass.

“Don’t you think Daddy needs to punish you?”

You whimper, eyes struggling to hold his in your shared reflection. His gaze was burning with lust and fiery.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I need to be punished.”

He grinned before flipping up your skirt to reveal the supple curve of your ass to his waiting gaze.

“Fuck, baby, do you know how long I’ve stared at this ass walking away from me, trying not to pop a boner in front of the whole office?”

He grabbed a rough handful.

“So long, baby, much too long. I think ten should suffice. Count for me.”

“Okay, daddy.” You whine.

“Say ‘red’ if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes, daddy.”

The first spank sent shocks running through you. While you expected the pain, you hadn’t anticipated how hard he would hit you, or how the contrast of his warm palm and cool rings would send pleasure singing through your body.

“O-one.”

The word barely made it out of your mouth, your brain hazy with lust.

The subsequent slap on the opposite cheek once again jolts you, and you fall forward, bracing your hands on the cold porcelain sink before you.

“Two.”

By the time he made it to five, tears had begun to well in your eyes, and you were sure your ass was painted a nice shade of crimson. By the time he made it to ten, tears had streaked your cheeks as moans and whimpers left your mouth alongside your garbled counting.

Jimin takes a moment to step back to admire his handiwork, his smirk only widening as he takes in his handprint bruised into your ass.

“Holy shit, baby, you’re so hot. You took your punishment so well. Look at how much of a good girl you are.”

Even in your hazy state, you beamed at his praise.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I think you deserve a reward, baby girl.”

You nod vigorously at that, eager to feel him finally inside you.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“Your fingers, daddy, please.”

In an attempt to convey your desperation, you grind your hips into his crotch.

“Patience, baby girl. Where do you want them?”

“In my pussy, daddy. Please. I’m so wet for you.” Your sentence ends with a light sob, the need for him overwhelming you.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

With that, he pulls your panties to the side as he cautiously rubs his pointer finger up and down your soaked slit, before slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, your dripping. Did spanking you turn you on that much? Is my baby girl that much of a pain slut?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m a pain slut just for you.”

He adds a second finger, and your head drops between your shoulders as he begins to move his digits in and out of you at a quick but intentional pace. Moans fall from your lips, and you let out a sharp squeal when he crooks his fingers and brushes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, daddy, right there.”

He quickens his pace, rubbing you perfectly over and over again as he brings you closer to the point of no return.

“Shit, baby, I’m so hard right now. Your pussy is so tight and wet around my fingers; I just want to sink my cock into you.”

“Please, daddy, I want your cock too. I want you to cum inside me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“

Words fail you as you are sent hurtling into your orgasm, waves of euphoria crashing down around you. Your body is shaking as you collapse against the sink.

Jimin lets out a groan at your fucked-out state, removing his hand from your pussy and bringing it to his lips to taste you. He lets out a moan as he does, freehand going to the front of his pants to rub his prominent erection through the black fabric.

After you recover enough to stand, you turn around and replace his hand with your own, pussy clenching at how big he was.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You look up at him under your lashes, and his head falls back at your mock innocence, a light whimper escaping his lips. He tilts his head back up to look at you, hand coming to grab your waist to pull you to his lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue as your hands come to play with his hair, tugging on the strands. He ruts up into you, desperation getting the better of him. He pulls away, revealing his swollen lips and hazy eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you now, baby girl.” He makes quick work of his belt zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let out his cock and balls. The tip is an angry red, beautifully contrasted with the white of his dress shirt. Your mouth waters as you take in its wide girth and slight curve. You’re desperate to taste it, but right now there were more important matters at hand.

You drop your panties, before hopping up on the edge of the sink. Jimin gives his cock a few short tugs before lining up with your dripping entrance. You let out soft moans as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as possible. His hands grab your ass, pulling you to the edge of the sink, before slamming back in. He sets a slow but intentional pace, the sound of skin and desperate moans echoing throughout the small bathroom.

You aren’t going to last long, having already come once, and judging by his quickening pace, neither is he. Your lips meet each other in a messy kiss as he pulls you tight against his body. It’s hard to discern what is a part of you and what is a part of him. Your limbs are so intertwined, that it feels like you are one body.

As his cock continues to drill into your g-spot, stars begin to cover your vision. With the force of a freight train, you come unannounced; your mouth opens in a silent scream. Jimin follows right behind you, painting your walls white with his seed. He lets out a groan of your name, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

Both of you silently shake as you take a moment to catch your breath and process what just happened. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, watching as his cum pours out of your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, that’s hot.” He groans, tucking himself back into his pants, before wetting a paper towel to help clean you up.

“I’m sorry I thought so poorly of you.” You give him an apologetic grin, as you pull up your underwear.

“It’s okay. I can see where I might have led you to think that I don’t treat girls well.”

“Well, now I can see that I was wrong. You seem like you would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You move to exit the bathroom, eager to get away so you can process the rampage of emotions flooding through you now that your lust wasn’t getting in the way.

“I can be yours.”

You pause at the door.

“What?”

“I could be your boyfriend.”

“I-“

“I’ve liked you ever since the first time I saw you, and I think that maybe you like me, and I just really, really want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mind is racing at a million miles per hour, trying to process everything that’s happening. One moment he was fucking you like it was your last day on the earth, and now he’s standing in front of you, pleading for you to make him yours. You aren’t sure what to make of it.

“I think I would really like that too, Jimin,” he beams,” “but everything is going so fast, and I just need a little time to take everything in.”

His face falls a little, but he nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. Let me take you on a date, at least.”

You grin.

“Okay.”

“Coffee on Saturday?”

“Sounds great.”

#changeswithluv #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #fanfic #one-shot #smut #bts #jimin #park jimin #bangtan #fluff #angst

389 notes · View notes

talkfastromance4 · 4 years

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Beauty behind the Madness--Ashton Irwin (mafia!au)

**copyright listed below

A/N: It’s finally here! This idea was born so many months ago but I never did anything with it until I watched the movie 365 and ideas started to flow. I’ve worked on this for nearly two months, and I’ve never spent so much time on something as big as this before,so thank you for your patience! I would like to give enormous ‘thank you’s to @sexgodashton and @sadistmichael for beta reading, editing and giving feedback and other insights when I was stuck (which was many times), to @spicycal @karajaynetoday and @cheekysos for also beta reading and letting me scream at you about this process. I’m so so grateful for each and every one of you!❤💖 Also, this fic is inspired by The Weeknd’s ‘Beauty behind the Madness’ album and I listened to it a lot while writing. (Drown by Tyler Carter is Ashton and Nadia’s song in my head as well)

Word count: 27.1k

Warnings: mentions of violence involving guns, mentions of blood, casual drinking, swearing, sexual occurrences (female receiving oral, fingering, male receiving oral, consensual sex, slight dom!ashton). Please read with caution

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• • • •

Ashton sets his drink on the lacquered maple countertop inside La Belle Vie, the ice clinks together in a satisfying finish. He checks the time on his gold embroidered black Rolex; he’s just in time to finish the dirty work his cohort set up. He slips past the bar, half ignoring the woman sitting at the end who stares him down like a hawk and descends the concrete steps to the interrogation room.

He faintly hears a fist connecting to flesh, grunts echo along the walls and his designer boots smacking articulately on the floor. One of his guards opens the door with a grandiose gesture as he undoes his cufflinks. As soon as he enters the room, another associate removes his suit jacket. It’s a rehearsed dance with the next step being Ashton rolling his sleeves up.

In view is his right-hand associate, Calum Hood, dressed down to his black tank top tucked into his Armani trousers. His face is contorted in concentration as he delivers another bloody punch to the man’s face who is tied to a chair. His face is a bloody mess, his shirt torn.

“We got what we needed?” Ashton asks coolly pulling his glock from the holster resting against his left side.

“Yeah,” Calum huffs, shaking his hand and flexing his fingers. “He said something about Nadia, though.”

Ashton’s hazel eyes flash in anger, he clicks the safety off his gun, and the man groans before him.

“What did you say?” Ashton demands as he shifts places with Calum who is handed a towel from Luke. The man mutters something under his breath. “Speak up, it’s hard to hear you through your own blood.”

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, no?”

Ashton presses the end of the gun to his cheek, pressing hard so it turns his head back. The man’s green eyes are vibrant against his blood, and Ashton can see the fear in them.

“Tell. Me,” Ashton says fiercely.

“You better keep your bitch on a leash, or the Snatchers will catch her,” the man cackles manically.

Ashton snaps his wrist swiftly and pulls the trigger, right in the center of the man’s forehead. His body jerks and slumps in the chair, the sound of the gunfire echoing in the small room. He glances at Calum, his jaw working in anger at the man’s last words.

“Clean up down here, gentleman, then join me for a drink,” Ashton says, slipping his glock back in the holster. After a kill, his body is always electric and warm, so he holds his arm out to the associate who removed his jacket and they drape it over his forearm.

Calum follows quickly behind him, pulling his dress shirt on as he ascends the stairs. Paco, the bartender, already has his glass refilled along with a new drink for Calum. The woman at the end of the bar reaches for Ashton, her fingers greedy and her eyes crazed.

“You seem tense, can I help?” she asks, batting her fake lashes.

“Sorry doll, he’s a taken man,” Calum intercedes by pushing her hands away. She pouts as the two men walk away.

“Thanks, she had her eyes on me the whole time I was here,” Ashton says pressing his lips to his glass. The amber liquid is refreshingly cold as it slides down his throat.

“I’ve seen her here before, not really sure who she is but she should know who Nadia is.”

The two gentlemen take a seat at their table near the back, far away from everyone else and in perfect sight of the door. The music is loud enough to enjoy as the girls dancing on stage move hypnotically to the beat. Other associates and frequent club members sit in the leather chairs with cigars and drinks in hand as they observe the women.

“That almost worries me, Cal,” Ashton sighs resting his foot on his opposite knee. “I don’t want anyone knowing of Nadia and it seems like everyone does. That puts her in danger.”

“She’s well-guarded at all times, you know that. The bastard was just talking shit to get a last rise from you,” Calum says then smacks his lips after taking a drink.

“What did he say to you?” Ashton watches Calum carefully, his dark brows crease. “Calum, what did he say?”

“He said the Rozhkov’s and the Snatchers love the way she dances.” He glances nervously at his friend, his boss.

Ashton checks his watch again. Nadia should be arriving at the club soon with Vinny; he sent her on a full spa day. She’s been working hard and one of Ashton’s main goals is to make sure she’s well taken care of.

“He was talking shit,” Calum repeats, “No one would dare go after her.”

“How did—” Ashton stops short because the doors open and his eyes meet Nadia’s.

His whole world shifts, all that he’s done, all that he will do, vanishes. Nadia is the light of his life and she shines as she walks her way over to him. Her dark hair falls in perfect waves down her chest, the silver necklace he bought her hangs perfectly between her cleavage. She’s a vision as he rises from his seat, as does Calum, to greet her. It’s respectful to stand whenever a boss’ significant other enters the room, they’re like royalty.

Ashton extends his hand, gaudy rings shining in the lowlight and Nadia’s hand slips inside his.

“Hi angel,” he says softly, giving her a squeeze.

“Hi, honey,” she smiles walking into his arms. She pecks his lips delicately, a feather light touch. “Hi Cal,” she smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek.

“Come sit with me,” Ashton pulls her with him as he sits back in his armchair. She finds her place in his lap comfortably, one arm behind his shoulders. She crosses her tan legs that show beautifully beneath her gold dress. Ashton’s arms hold her close, his fingers locked together on her hip. “How was the spa?”

“Wonderful,” she smiles, rubbing her nose against his. “You didn’t have to do it, you know.”

“I wanted to; you had a rough week.”

“It’s only Tuesday,” she giggles.

“Yeah, and you came home last night all in a tizzy, climbing into my lap in my office—”

Nadia covers his mouth with her hand, silencing him. “Shush!” Her warm brown eyes glide to Calum.

He smiles behind her hand, pulling it away from his mouth to kiss her fingertips.

“I’ve heard way worse, sweetheart, trust me,” Calum chuckles taking a drink. “Can I get you something?”

“Amaretto sour,” Ashton answers for her and she smiles. “Three cherries.”

“Comin’ right up,” Calum winks then moves to the bar.

Ashton sighs, trailing his fingers over her back, staring into her warm brown eyes.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she smiles adjusting one of his chains. Her blood red, almond-shaped nails rub through his chest hair, she follows the trail to his top button of his shirt. She unbuttons it delicately. “There, now you can breathe.”

“One amaretto sour,” Calum says, handing the glass over to Nadia. She takes it with glee, slurping up the drink happily. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Asana in the Gold Room.”

Ashton and Nadia look behind Calum to see Asana waiting by the deep maroon curtains that lead to another set of stairs. Her dark hair is in a high ponytail atop her head, the gold eyeliner and gold lipstick contrast beautifully with her dark skin. It made her appear regal and Nadia was always stunned by her beauty.

The Gold Room is a special room where members of Ashton’s association go to…unwind. Men and women of the association meet there frequently when there’s downtime, like tonight, or after a successful mission. Asana is the head of weaponry; Ashton always gets the best from her and he trusts her with his life.

“See you two later,” Calum winks starting to walk backwards, his eyes on Nadia, “make sure he gets some rest.”

Ashton and Nadia watch Calum approach Asana who gives him a sly smirk as he takes her hand kissing it. As they disappear behind the curtain, the song changes and a cloud of cigar smoke creeps up on Nadia and Ashton. She scrunches her nose at the smell, Ashton kisses it.

“We can take our drinks to my office, angel,” he tells her, knowing she doesn’t like the cigar smoke. It always gives her a headache.

“Aren’t Luke and Michael going to join us, soon?” she asks while plucking one of the cherries from her glass.

Ashton’s momentarily mesmerized by the way her lips pucker around the bright red fruit before it disappears in her mouth. She tosses the stem onto the small table beside his chair then swipes her thumb on her chin collecting the cherry juice and licking it off.

“I think they’ll understand. Come on,” he pats the side of her bare thigh, so she stands.

Their fingers link together as he leads her past the bar to a secret door on the left. Once inside, Nadia clutches onto Ashton’s hand a little tighter, she says the space creeps her out because of the minimal lighting and dark walls. He’ll never tire of her feeling safe with him, that’s all he wants is her love and trust to protect her.

They reach the silver elevator doors; he pushes the button with one of his rings and the doors part open. Her heels scrape against the floor as he pulls her against his chest, her giggles echo the small space, their reflection apparent on every wall.

“Is this that new dress you bought a few weeks ago?” he asks tenderly, eyes roaming over the glittery gold fabric hugging her body perfectly.

“It’s the new dress you bought,” she pokes his nose. “You’ve got to stop spoiling me or people are going to get the wrong idea, honey.”

“What wrong idea is that?”

The doors slide open as they land on the second level, only certain clientele is allowed up here. Nadia is always at the top of the list. Nadia tugs his hand leading him out of the elevator right into his office. The first time she was brought into his office, it made her feel apprehensive, but it was also the first night they met, and it was under dangerous circumstances.

***

The rain is falling harshly on the hood of Ashton’s red Aston Martin Superleggera. He's cloaked in the dark of the night as he sits and waits for members of the Rozhkov family to arrive at the abandoned building he’s parked next to. Aleks Rozhkov has scheduled his associates for a pickup of money and parts. Parts that have intrigued Ashton so greatly that he wants to find out exactly what they are.

He’s been here for hours, waiting, watching.

Calum insisted on going with him for added protection, but Ashton declined. He knows the target on his back is large, but his element of surprise is his calling card and this ambush would give him the answers he needs. He sighs glancing at the clock on his dashboard, his thumb rubbing over the silver-winged design on his steering wheel. He always liked how the emblem of his car matched the condor tattoo on his neck, a dangerous pair with the desire to fly.

There’s movement to his left, and he sits up a little straighter then sighs when he sees it’s a civilian. She’s walking through the rain with an umbrella clutched tightly in her fingers, and Ashton notices she keeps looking behind her. Then she stops and three men suddenly surround her; the three men Ashton has been waiting all night for.

When one of them tosses her umbrella to the ground, Ashton springs from his car, running over. He pulls on the arm of the man closest to him before turning him around connecting his fist with his jaw. The other two spring into action, but Ashton is quick with his punches and elbow thrusts. In minutes all three men are down in the rain-filled alley, the woman breathing heavily against the brick building.

Ashton crouches to one of the men who’s grunting in pain and staring at Ashton through a swelling eye. “You tell Aleks, Ashton Irwin doesn’t appreciate him doing his dirty work in my city,” his voice is calm, but the warning tone is loud, “and that cornering a woman is warranted in death. Got that?”

The man groans nodding his head. Ashton stands, his eyes softening as he stares at the woman before him. He can barely see her through the falling rain and the dimmed streetlight, but he can tell she’s frightened, as if he can sense it.

“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” he asks gently, stepping closer to her. She shakes her head in response. A car backfires and she lets out a scream. Ashton responds by grabbing her hand, “I have somewhere safe I can take you,” pulling her to his car and helping her inside. He cranks the heat as the engine purrs quietly to life, zooming to the main road and to La Belle Vie.

She’s visibly shaking while he drives to his club. He wants to comfort her in some way but is unsure how to. He’s pleasantly surprised she got into his car so willingly, but maybe his coming to her rescue appeased her.

He parks smoothly in his spot outside of La Belle Vie, he can hear her teeth chattering.

“Come inside, it’s warm and I can get you a drink,” he tells her before getting out.

He keeps a safe distance behind her, nodding to one of the guards at the entrance. They open the door just as thunder rumbles in the distance. Ashton and the woman are met with more dimmed lighting, and soulful, tantalizing music dances in their ears while the dancers on stage move hypnotically.

The woman halts as she takes in her surroundings and Ashton bumps into her back.

“Keep moving to the end of the bar, my office is in the back,” he murmurs pushing her forward gently. Ashton eyes their surroundings, the only people taking notice of him are Paco and Luke sitting at the bar. He shakes his head as if to say, ‘don’t ask, don’t stop me,’ and continues his way to the secret door.

He pushes on the wall; the door opens to reveal a dimly lit hallway with cement floors and dark walls. He feels her cower against him once more.

“You need to get brighter lightbulbs,” she mutters, shoulders rattling as she shivers again.

Ashton smiles at her comment but wants to get her warmed up as fast as he can. He leads her to the elevator, pushes the button and the doors open quickly. The elevator ride is short as it ascends to his office, he ushers her inside where he makes sure to turn all the lights on.

“Please, have a seat,” he motions to the plush black couch in front of the fireplace.

He turns it on with the switch beside the mantle, discarding his leather jacket placing it on the back of an armchair. He moves across the room to a closet that has blankets for when he sometimes spends the night here, and there’s a bedroom next to the fireplace. You can see a part of it through the flames if you look close enough. He doesn’t dare let his mind drift to the countless women he’s brought back to that room, suddenly he feels ashamed about those encounters.

He drapes the thick, soft blanket over her shoulders, she jumps from the contact, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you.’ Ashton moves to his desk picking up his phone that immediately rings the bar.

“Sir?” Paco answers.

“Send up some towels, dry clothes and two hot chocolates, please,” Ashton requests then clicks the phone back in its cradle. He sits across from her in the armchair that doesn’t have his coat on it, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks again. Now that they’re in brighter light, he sees how beautiful she is. Her dark hair hangs in wet strands framing her perfectly round face, her eyes are large and round and the prettiest brown he’s ever seen. Although she’s shivering, everything about her, from her tanned skin to those eyes screams warmth. A warmth Ashton hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Fine,” she responds quietly, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. She sniffs.

“I’m having towels and clean clothes brought up, along with some hot chocolate,” he offers, his fingers twisting one of his rings. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Why did you hurt those men?” she asks the same time he does.

“They were going to hurt you,” he says simply. He notices her eyes are watching the movement of his ring, he glances down noticing the dried blood on his knuckles that clearly has her attention. He frowns slightly. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t think twice about the blood, but he doesn’t want this woman to fear him due to this act.

“Why were you there? Who’s Aleks Rosco—”

“Rozhkov,” Ashton corrects. He inhales deeply then leans back into the chair making sure to skirt around the truth. “He’s…a businessman that I’ve been wanting to meet with. We have things to discuss.”

“You—”

Three sharp raps to the door cause Ashton to stand and open the door. Luke’s there with the essentials Ashton requested, the towels and clothes in a bag, two hot chocolates in a carrying tray and a question in his baby blue eyes.

“Is she one of Rozhkov’s—”

“Thanks Luke,” Ashton replies shortly, taking the bag and carrying tray. He shuts the door in the younger man’s face then brings the goods to the beautiful mystery woman on his couch. He places the bag in front of her legs which he’s just noticed are bare beneath her coat. He swallows harshly. “Towels and dry clothes are in here, there’s a shower just through that door you can use to warm up.”

Hesitantly, she lifts the bag, crooking it between her elbow and stands. Ashton moves to the door opening it, smacking the light switch on the wall. It illuminates the room showcasing the large California king bed with high posts and a thick black comforter. Again, he pushes memories of the numerous sexual partners he’s pleasured here, as if his dirty thoughts would offend this beautiful woman. He doesn’t want to offend her in any way, though he fears he already has.

She’s been visibly shaken since the alleyway and won’t look him in the eye choosing instead to keep focus of the blood on his hands. Is she fearful of what she’ll see in his eyes? Madness? A monster?

Her small sniffle pulls him from his thoughts.

“Use anything you’d like in the bathroom. I’ll be out here if you need me,” he offers a half a smile then turns to give her some privacy. Then he hears her mumble something and quickly turns around. “What?”

“Nadia,” she says again, her brown eyes finally meeting his, “My name’s Nadia.”

***

She walks around his large desk, twisting her arm so she can push him gently into his specially made chair. It’s a black, wing back chair with gold accented buttons and the letters ‘A’ and ‘I’ stitched in gold on the front of the arms.

“What wrong idea?” he asks again, placing his drink on the coaster on his desk. It also has his initials on it.

Nadia shakes her head hopping onto the surface of the desk, her dress slides up her thighs. She takes a long sip of her drink as Ashton rests his palms on her knees, his thumbs rub onto her skin.

“Nadia,” he says her name sternly. He knows she knows that tone of voice, and she looks at him expectantly. “What will people think?” he softens his tone.

“That I’m nothing but a ‘sugar baby,’” she pouts, her fingers create the imaginary quotations.

Ashton sighs. Being in his line of business, doing what he does, he knows that’s what he’s perceived as, but he always waved it off without a care. He didn’t like, however, that Nadia has been labeled as a sugar baby.

“You know that’s not true,” he stands from his chair, towering over her. He removes her drink from her hand, placing it on another coaster then rests his hands on the wood. He stares at her until she meets his gaze. “You know how much I love and care about you.”

“I do,” she nods earnestly. “But I still hear the whispers.”

“Is it from people within my circle? Tell me their names and I’ll deal with them—”

“No, no, it’s no one associated with you. It’s…others. In the streets, in the shops we go to.”

“Don’t listen to them, and if I hear it—” he leans forward pressing his lips to her cheek “—they’ll have me to answer to.” His voice tickles her ear and she giggles from the vibrations.

“Why did Cal say you need rest?” she asks.

“Long day,” he shrugs. He relaxes when Nadia places her thumbs under his eyes, he can only imagine the dark circles beneath them.

“What did you do?” she moves her fingers to his hair, massaging through the dark locks onto his scalp.

“Angel,” he says in a warning tone, “what’s my number one rule?”

“Don’t ask specifics about your job,” she sighs, fingers still massaging.

“And why is that?” he sighs. His hand pushes her legs apart, his fingers run up the smooth skin of her thigh. She spreads her legs wider, welcoming his hand higher.

“To protect me,” she whispers and moans slightly when his fingers skim over her bare, wet folds. He tuts his tongue.

“No panties, hm? Why’s that?” he asks, teasing her slit. “You want to stain my desk?”

“N-no! Just didn’t feel like it…I thought you’d like it,” she sighs against his neck, her breath hot, and fingers still locked in his hair.

“You know I love it, angel.” He teases her hole with his middle finger causing her to squeak in response. He smiles, kissing her shoulder then inserts his finger slowly. Her own fingers tighten in his hair, her breathing becomes ragged. “Should I make you come right here for me? Right on my desk where I do my work?”

Nadia rolls her hips with the motion of his finger inside her, spreading her open and rubbing against her walls.

“Please,” she begs breathlessly.

He inserts another finger and Nadia whines in his ear, his thumb rubbing harshly against her clit. He loves hearing her moan for him. He works his fingers faster until her body clenches and she’s left gasping loudly in his ear.

“That’s my girl,” he praises twiddling his fingers inside her as her orgasm subsides. He removes his fingers gently pulling back to give her a smile while he sucks her off his fingers. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks a bit rosy. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she sighs. She drags her fingers back to his cheeks and pulls his mouth to hers, moaning into his mouth. Her fingers are quick to undo his shit buttons, palms pressing to his torso, nails dragging along his skin.

“You want another one?” he smirks against her mouth, her hands tugging his silk shirt from his trousers.

“Like you said,” her voice is sultry in his ear as she unbuttons his pants, “I’ve had a rough week.”

When Nadia’s fingers pinch the zipper, there’s a very loud urgent knock on the door. She lets out a sigh, visibly upset as Ashton snaps his pants back into place and rebuttons his shirt. He grins at her petulance, taking her chin in his fingers to give her a delicate kiss.

“I’ll be right back, angel.”

He checks his shirt as he struts across his office, hoping that whoever is behind that door is in a life or death situation. Everyone at La Belle Vie knows that if he has Nadia in his office, he is not to be disturbed. A rule that’s been established since that first night he brought her here. They’re being interrupted now just as much as they were then.

***

Ashton made sure to remove his rings from his fingers, placing them in a black porcelain bowl in the other bathroom used for guests; he’ll have them professionally cleaned in the morning. He feels empty without them. The added weight always made him feel secure somehow. One ring, a gaudy one with an onyx stone was always perched on his left pinky finger. Another one, specially made, sat on his right middle finger that always left his initials on the perpetrator’s skin, a flameless branding.

He sighs, turning on the tap and scrubbing extra hard, so the blood is completely gone. He’s never been this meticulous after a fight, or a kill for that matter. He’s become immune to the cold killings he does, usually saving the clean up when he’s back at his house in his large waterfall-style shower. He turns the water to the hottest temperature and yet, he still feels numb.

When the blood is gone, he watches his reflection as he dries his hands. Dark circles are under his eyes while the whites of his eyes are bloodshot. No wonder Nadia wouldn’t look at him, he looks every bit the monster behind such monstrous acts.

The door to the bedroom swings open, Ashton quickly tossing the towel into the sink and approaching Nadia as she exits the doorway. The t-shirt and sweatpants she’s changed into hang off her small frame, but she looks warmer. Her cheeks are rosy from the heat of the shower, she’s still hesitant as she glances at him.

“Find everything okay?” he asks politely.

“Yes, thank you,” she’s even more polite in her response.

To his surprise, Nadia moves to sit back on the couch and picks up one of the hot chocolates, bringing it to her lips. Ashton moves carefully around the couch and takes his spot from before in the armchair. She hums appreciatively at the warm drink, brown eyes flickering to his.

They stare at each other for a moment. Ashton is trying to decipher what she could possibly be thinking. He usually had a knack for that in women, but all he’s getting from her are unasked questions. Ashton has never been vulnerable with any of the women he’s had relations with, making sure his hard exterior remains impenetrable.

“You shouldn’t walk near that building that late at night. It’s dangerous,” he tells her, fixing his slight moment in weakness.

“I live a block away from there, and I haven’t had trouble until tonight,” her voice is stronger now. Ashton wonders if she’s got more courage from her warm shower or if there’s alcohol in her hot chocolate.

Testing his theory, Ashton picks up the other cup and takes a drink. All he tastes is milk chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, no alcohol detected. What changed?

“Why were you walking alone so late?” he asks. His interrogation voice rises to the surface, and he sees her fingers tighten on the cup.

“I teach ballet on Fifth and I stayed later,” she sniffs, her long nail traces the rim of the cover. “It started raining so I continued dancing hoping it would end, but it didn’t, and I had to get home.” Her eyes raise to his. “Why were you parked in that alley?”

“What age range do you teach?” he dodges her question. Luke’s unfinished question if she’s one of Rozhkov’s associates hangs in the back of his head. Nadia is a Russian name, after all, so she very well could be. “What’s your last name?”

“Why aren’t you answering my questions?” she deflects, eyes narrowing.

“Why aren’t you answering mine?” Ashton leans forward, eyebrows raised.

Nadia sighs, keeping her gaze steady on his. “I teach from the ages of four to ten, and my last name is Sharapova.”

Ashton’s jaw clenches, he needs to be on high alert because she could very well be working with Aleks Rozhkov. But his instinct is telling him she’s not associated at all, that she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her newfound confidence is questionable though. Ashton needs to do some more probing.

“Can you answer my questions now?” she asks, her tone is a bit softer, and it throws Ashton for a loop again.

“You only asked me one,” he points out, forcing himself not to smirk. “And I already answered it, I had to speak with them about business.”

“What kind of business? Are you a club owner? Is this Aleks guy a competitor of yours?” she’s rapid fire now, and Ashton thinks the hot shower and dry clothes has brought this out of her.

The innocence is still shining in her eyes, but Ashton is smart enough to not share his true business with someone. No matter how beautiful they are.

“I do own the club downstairs, and Aleks Rozhkov is…a competitor of some sorts, yes,” he nods.

“You only answered two of my questions,” she murmurs behind her cup before taking another drink.

“I can’t answer the first one. It’s better you don’t know what I do. Do you only teach ballet or dance in a troupe?” he asks. The surprised flick of her eyebrows tells him she’s impressed by his terminology, he hides his smirk behind his cup.

“I’m in a troupe,” she nods, “um, I dance with the Chamber City Company.”

“How long have you been with them?”

“Four years. Why can’t I know what you do?”

Ashton lets out air from his nose, she’s not letting this go.

“It’s dangerous for you and I don’t want to put you in any more danger like you were in earlier.”

Nadia sinks a little further into the couch, her hands clutching her hot chocolate tighter to her chest. “Are we safe here?”

Ashton mentally reprimands himself; he doesn’t want her to fear him, yet here he is treating her like the common offender that he deals with daily. Firing questions at her and questioning her motives when really, she’s an innocent woman.

“I’m sorry Nadia, I don’t mean to scare you,” he sets his hot chocolate on the coffee table rubbing his face with his hand. He’s reminded that his rings are gone, he feels exposed then removes his hand to look at her. “And I don’t mean to offend you with my questions, I’m only trying to figure you out. I promise you that you are completely safe here. I can—”

There’s another knock at his door, and Ashton becomes a little irritated. When he’s in his office, unless they’re called, no one is to disrupt him.

“Excuse me,” he tells her then moves to the door. He opens it to see Michael standing there, his cross earrings dangling. “What?”

“There’s been a raid by the abandoned building you were at earlier,” Michael says in a rush.

“Michael, you only come to my office if it’s vital, how is this important?”

“Because it was her apartment that was raided,” Michael glances behind Ashton at Nadia.

Ashton looks behind him, Nadia’s back is to them, and he pushes Michael back into the hallway so he can close the door.

“How do you know that? You don’t even know her name—”

“Nadia Sharapova? Yeah, I do. I was given a list of names and photos of the residents and when Luke saw her photo, he told me you brought her here. Does she have any connection with Aleks?” Michael asks.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ashton shakes his head.

“Are you sure? I know she’s pretty, Ashton but—”

“She’s not, all right?” Ashton snaps. “Why was it raided?”

“The three men you fought told Aleks you defended her and now he thinks she’s close to you. She’s a target now,” Michael responds quietly.

“Shit,” Ashton hisses, his hands curling into tight fists and he begins to pace. When he comes in front of Michael he stops, “what’s it look like outside?”

“Nothing in sight. We think he might’ve set the raid as a warning, to let you know he’s watching. I can send everyone downstairs home and bring in our best—”

“No, no, keep everyone here. I don’t want to raise alarm,” Ashton is rubbing his chin now in thought. “Make sure the right people know what’s going on, and check on Meyers that his cover is still hidden. Have Asana assemble our needed artillery. I need to tell Nadia—”

“You’re really going to tell her you’re in the mafia?” Michael’s dark eyebrows disappear under his dirty blond hair.

“No, I need to tell her she doesn’t have a home to go to. Only come to my office if you have other news.”

“Yes sir,” Michael nods.

Ashton sighs pinching the bridge of his nose. His good deed of helping Nadia has now put her between a rock and a hard place. He’s not quite sure which one he is in the metaphor or which is worse. He opens the door to see she’s standing in front of the bookcase next to the fireplace. She jumps at his entrance.

“I’m sorry, I was—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves his hand, “I have quite a lot of books in here. Um, there’s something I need to tell you, and it’s going to be difficult to hear.”

Nadia crosses her arms over her chest, not in defiance, but in more of a comforting way. Ashton almost wishes he could be the one comforting her. She nods at him to go on.

“Aleks Rozhkov is a…dangerous man and one of my…colleagues just informed me that your apartment was raided by his men,” Ashton explains carefully. He wishes he could tell her everything, it pains him to skirt around the truth like this with her.

“How do you know it was my apartment? I only told you—”

“We were sent names and photos of the residents and yours is on that list. I’m so sorry. You’re more than—”

“Names and photos? What are you, the CIA or something?” her voice rises in hysterics. She begins to knot her fingers together then grabs a lock of her hair and twists it between her fingers. Her eyes are moving frantically about the room, “This isn’t—what is happening? Why would he send men to raid my apartment?”

“Nadia, listen to me,” Ashton speaks slowly, moving his head in her line of vision. His hazel meets her brown and her breathing becomes more even. “I promise to keep you safe, but you have to trust me.”

“How can I trust you when I just met you?”

***

Ashton opens the door to see Michael standing there, his green eyes frantic as he meets the gaze with his boss.

“Mike, you know the rules—”

“I know, I know but this is urgent. There’s a woman downstairs who says she works with Liam and he wants to speak with you.”

Silent alarms go off in Ashton’s head. Liam Payne. He hasn’t heard that name in five years. They used to be a team, Ashton and Liam. They owned the town and partied with the most beautiful women. Others feared them because together, they rose to the top at an exponential rate.

Both took over the family business after their father’s ran off and hid because they were caught with extortion of money from the police. At the ripe age of eighteen, they became head bosses and had to learn the ropes from the associates their father’s left behind. Bonding over that life-altering event, they shared ideas and became as close as brothers.

It didn’t take long for them to excel their fathers’ legacies, both Liam and Ashton were easily the most respected and valued amongst their associates. Liam was the one who thought of the idea of La Belle Vie since they were living the good life. Two young men in their early twenties partying, meeting beautiful women and getting rich? What more could you want?

Another life-altering moment happened with Liam when one of the women he was seeing became pregnant. He stepped down from his duties which meant stepping down from Ashton. Ashton could only understand to a degree of why Liam stepped away, but his father leaving him left a deeper wound than he thought.

His father was all he had, but even when he was around, Ashton never felt love from him. He was always gone on “business trips” and would only say a few words to Ashton when he was home. He grew up void of love. When his father ran, Ashton swore to himself he wouldn’t have a family so he wouldn’t treat his children the same way.

Liam came around and soon after so did Michael, Luke, and Calum. The four of them became his brothers, his true family. He vowed to protect them with his life. So, when Liam left, too, he felt abandoned all over again. But he’s proud that he left to be what their fathers couldn’t be, present.

There was a raid that was happening, and Ashton called Liam for backup. He could fight like no other and drives better than any professional racecar driver he’s ever met. Liam was quick to say yes and once he arrived it was just like old times. Liam filled Ashton in on the new house he and Tanya bought, how the nursery was going to be set up with dinosaurs because they were having a boy.

Ashton could see the change in Liam, he had a new light of happiness and even showed him a picture of a large diamond ring he bought to give Tanya. Ashton was happy for him, he truly was, but to have one of his best friends—his brother—back by his side made him happier.

The raid went awry as soon as Ashton and Liam crossed the threshold of the warehouse. There were explosions and Liam was quick to pull Ashton into cover. One of the Snatchers—the Rozhkov’s errand boys—ran by and Liam took care of him quickly with a flick of his wrist and pull of his trigger. Just as Ashton was about to ask what their new plan was, Liam’s phone rang.

He picked it up because it was Tanya. Ashton remembers hearing her crying through the phone, Liam asking her what was wrong, where she was and then a scream followed by the loudest dial tone Ashton ever heard, was left in her wake. One of the Snatchers cackled behind them, gloating to another that their plan worked.

Angry and confused, Liam sprung from his place with Ashton reaching for the coattails of his suit, his gun pointed directly at the two Snatchers. They cackled again as they informed Liam that his new cookie-cut-life is no more.

Tanya and his unborn baby were in the house as a bomb went off and Liam lost control.

“Ashton…Ashton!” Michael snaps his fingers in front of Ashton’s face, snapping him back to reality.

Ashton composed himself quickly, “Did he say what he wants?”

“No. Should I have him come upstairs?”

“No, no, I’ll…I’ll be right down. Seat him in the Brandy Room, have Paco make him whatever he wants.”

“You got it,” Michael responds quietly. He looks like he wants to say something else but nods instead and moves back to the elevator.

As soon as he’s gone, Ashton backs into his office. He hears his name but it’s as if his head is underwater, his ears are ringing, and the numb feeling is back. He walks robotically to his desk, eyes on his glass as he lifts it in his fingers then flings it across the room. The glass shatters loudly on the door, the wood glistens from the liquid and ice as it runs through the panes.

The resemblance of names makes his head pound. Then his ears stop ringing and he’s shifted back into focus, Nadia’s hands are clutching at his arms spinning him around to face her. When his hazel eyes meet her warm brown ones, he locks into her gaze and holds on. When she touches his cheek, his hand is quick to cover it, feeling her warmth on his skin.

“What is it? Talk to me,” she asks him softly.

“An old…” Ashton swallows harshly and licks his lips, “a family member is here that I haven’t seen in a very long time.”

Nadia’s eyes soften, she rubs his cheek with her thumb. “Okay. What for?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head then knocks his forehead to hers. He breathes in her coconut and white gardenia perfume. All he wants is to stay here with her, but his past is flowing like a river into her life. He doesn’t want her to drown like him. “We didn’t leave on good terms.”

Nadia lifts her other hand to his cheek and stretches her lips forward to give him a soothing kiss. Ashton wraps his arms around her back, holding her close. She continues to stroke his cheeks lovingly. “You don’t have to tell me now,” she begins, “but if you’d like to talk about it, you know I’ll listen. Do you want me to stay up here and wait until you come back?”

“I’d like you with me,” he sighs giving in to his own selfish desires. Nadia helps keep him grounded, keeps his head level and his anger at bay.

“Okay,” she nods shifting her fingers to link together at the base of his neck.

Ashton pulls her into a tight embrace, he kisses her shoulder and exhales deeply as she kisses his ear. He gives her one more kiss before pulling back.

“How do I look?” he asks.

He watches Nadia fondly as she fixes his hair, adjusts his buttons and smooths down his shirt. Her eyes flick to his and she smiles.

“Handsome as ever.”

“Thank you, angel,” he forces half a smile. His mind is already downstairs on Liam waiting for him. Ashton grabs her hand, making sure she’s careful as they walk over the broken glass; he’ll ask Peter, one of his best waitstaff, to clean it up.

Their footsteps echo against the walls to the elevator. He leans against the parallel mirrored wall, the doors still open as Nadia settles next to him. She pushes the correct button and the doors close, showing their reflections.

***

Ashton and Nadia’s reflections stare back at them. They’re a good half a foot apart in the elevator as it starts to descend. He’s offered one of his guest rooms for her usage and for her safety. It took some convincing but after she finally agreed, he decided to take her to his place, it’s getting late.

He tries not to stare at her in the reflected elevator door but something about her captivates him. He wants to know more about her, and the thought terrifies him. the doors open once more and Ashton leads her down the hallway, he notices the way she inches closer to him, then pushes open the secret door.

There are only a few patrons left in the club, two of them being Luke and Michael sitting close together. Their heads snap in Ashton and Nadia’s direction as Ashton leads her by.

“See you tomorrow, boys,” Ashton tells them. They nod, eyes flickering to Nadia.

Once outside, Ashton opens the passenger door of his car for Nadia as she slides in. He makes sure to turn her seat warmer on which she thanks him for quietly. The ride is silent as he takes side streets and back roads, always taking the long way home in case he’s followed.

In another life, maybe he would be driving Nadia back to her place after a nice dinner, not back to his place because her home was raided. His fingers tap on the wheel reminding him how exposed they are without his rings. He’s being his most vulnerable with Nadia and they just met.

After twenty minutes, he’s pulled into his garage and shuts off his car.

“We—” when he looks at Nadia, her head is against the seat, eyes closed. He admires her for a moment, trying to decode what it is about her that has him going against his norm. Shadows from her long lashes kiss her cheeks and her cupid’s bow sticks out a little as she breathes evenly.

He doesn’t want to wake her. She looks so peaceful after a night of crazy circumstances that is ending even crazier by spending the night at a stranger’s house. Ashton sighs then exits the car moving to her side quickly. He opens the door and unbuckles her belt with care then places his hand on her shoulder.

“Nadia,” he calls her name softly. She sighs deeply, eyes fluttering open and she jumps in her seat taking in her new surroundings until her gaze lands on Ashton. “You’re all right. You fell asleep.”

He holds out his hand helping her get out, he can feel how heavy with sleep she is as they walk into the house. When they’re in the guest room, across the short skyway where Ashton’s room is, she’s practically hanging off his arms but he’s supporting her.

“There’s a bathroom just next door and remotes are in the nightstand if you’d like to watch TV,” he explains sitting her gingerly on the bed. “My room is right through the other end of the skyway, come get me if you need anything.”

Nadia nods heavily, her eyes drooping from exhaustion. Her adrenaline has finally started to subside, and she feels so drained.

“Thank you, Ashton,” she begins to crawl under the covers.

Ashton is frozen in place at the sound of his name leaving her lips. He watches her slip into the bed and curl up to one of the pillows. Her long brown hair fans behind her then he remembers it’s time to leave her be and rest. Even though everything in him wants to sit in the corner and make sure she does sleep soundly.

“Right,” he clears his throat, “Goodnight, Nadia.”

He closes the door as quietly as he can then walks through his skyway, his pathway illuminated by the moon. He hangs his suit jacket on the back of his chair, removing the rest of his clothes. Usually a man to sleep in his boxers, or naked, he pulls on some shorts and a tank top just in case. In case Nadia needs him and he doesn’t want to burst into her room completely naked.

As Ashton settles into his own California King bed, he stares up at his ceiling mulling over the events that happened tonight. Sitting outside the abandoned warehouse felt like days rather than mere hours ago. He didn’t even get a chance to investigate what exactly Rozhkov’s men were doing there. Nadia’s presence had completely shifted his focus and now all his attention is on her and keeping her safe.

He’s never truly felt alone until now, sure, he has his brothers, but this is a different kind of loneliness. It’s a loneliness of companionship while there’s a beautiful woman who crossed his path sleeping alone as well. What a twisted piece of fate.

The next morning, Ashton is on a phone call with Calum going over logistics of the raid in the kitchen when Nadia makes her way downstairs. Her arms are wrapped around herself as she takes in the whites and blacks of the appliances and surfaces, Calum’s voice drones on.

“I’ll call you back,” Ashton interrupts Calum then hangs up without a goodbye. “Good morning,” he greets Nadia.

“Morning,” she responds with a wan smile, eyes still taking in the room. Then she zeroes in on a coffee pot.

“Would you like a cup?” Ashton springs into action quickly by opening a cupboard and grabbing a mug. He pours her a decent amount then shifts to the fridge opening it up. “I have quite a selection of creamer, what would you like?”

“Um, do you have French vanilla?” she steps towards him peering into the fridge doors.

He pulls the requested creamer from the door then moves to her cup he’s started; she follows like a shadow. Ashton swirls the contents then pops the top and begins to pour.

“That’s good,” she stops him when the cream blooms in the dark coffee.

“Sugar?” he asks opening another cabinet. He realizes the double meaning of the sweet product and the pet name, for some reason he wishes he were calling her that.

“Two spoons.”

He stirs the concoction together with a spoon, tapping it on the lip before turning around to hand it to her. Nadia takes it graciously, blowing gently over the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. She hums in approval then gives Ashton a smile.

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

He’s hypnotized by her eyes, being this close and in the natural light he can see tiny flecks of green and gold around her pupils. He blinks then lifts his own mug back into his hand.

“How did you sleep?”

“All right. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened last night…”

Ashton notices her shy demeanor is back.

“I know, it is a lot. I was speaking with a colleague of mine before you came in and he’s going to check it out, make sure there isn’t anything dangerous left behind. I was thinking I could take you there so you can gather some of your things and bring here,” Ashton suggests.

The notion didn’t sound so odd in his head but now that he said it aloud, he’s realized how peculiar it is to have a woman he saved from the street move in with him in less than twenty-four hours. Even if it is temporary. He hopes she doesn’t question his motives, that she can see he only wants to protect her.

Nadia takes another drink of her coffee. “That sounds like a good idea, thank you,” her voice wavers slightly.

She leans against the counter, staring outside as two little birds dance around each other on the birdbath. She tilts her head as one of the birds do, wings flittering before it hops into the water near to the other bird.

“I’m assuming you want me to stay here because it would be safer than a hotel?” Nadia asks thoughtfully.

“Your assumption would be correct,” Ashton moves from her side to stand in front of her, he cocks his head so he can capture her attention. “I want you to feel safe, Nadia. I’m so sorry that you’ve been brought into this and I hope you trust me.”

“Can’t the police do anything?” she asks, and he smiles smugly.

“I’m better than the police, trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she downs the rest of her coffee, eyes flickering to the two birds who are now gone then back to Ashton. “That’s what scares me.”

Nadia then retired to her room while Ashton waited to hear from Calum about her apartment building. When he received an all clear, he ascends the stairs walking across the skyway then pauses before he knocks gently on her door. She responds with a quiet ‘come in’ and when he opens the door he finds her sitting on the window seat with her legs curled up underneath her gazing out the window.

How can she be so effortlessly beautiful?

“Um, if you’d like to get changed we can head on over to your place,” he says from the doorway.

She turns her head then slips off the seat, her bare feet sinking in the plush carpet with every step. “I have nothing to change into,” she shrugs, “this is all I have right now.”

Ashton curses himself.

“Right. Um, then let me get dressed and we’ll make our way there. I won’t be long; you can meet me in the kitchen.”

Ashton changed into one of his more casual suits, making sure he had his gun holstered inside the jacket, before meeting Nadia in the kitchen. Their drive is silent, Ashton doesn’t really know what to expect when they arrive at her building. He made sure Calum would be there and stand guard outside while Ashton and Nadia were upstairs.

He parks smoothly along the curb, rushing to her side of the car so he can open the door for her. Calum meets them halfway on the sidewalk, he grins at Nadia kindly.

“Calum, this is Nadia. Nadia, this is Calum, he’s a colleague of mine and a brother,” Ashton introduces them.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nadia,” Calum grins again holding out his hand which Nadia takes. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nadia smiles weakly. When their hands release, she crosses her arms over her chest, an action Ashton notices she does a lot.

“We all right to go in?” Ashton asks nodding to the building.

“Yeah, everyone else is out. I spoke with the landlord and he said he’s going to have authorities take over to try and catch the—whoever did this.” Calum glances at Nadia then Ashton, he heard from Michael that Ashton doesn’t want her to know what his line of work is.

“I know who did this,” Nadia offers throwing a quick glimpse to Ashton, “he just won’t tell me why.”

Calum’s eyebrows raise in amusement, eyes darting between his boss and this woman he rescued the night prior.

“He’s a smart man. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

“Thanks Calum,” Ashton claps him on the shoulder as Nadia skirts around him. She pulls on the door; Ashton follows her down the hall to the elevator. “Which one are you in?”

“4C,” she says pushing the number four.

He follows her again as she walks down the hallway to the fourth door on the right, he knows Calum cleared the building but he’s keeping his wits about him. Nadia pulls her key from the pocket of her borrowed sweatpants, slotting it in the lock and turning. He notices her shoulders rise, then fall before she pushes the door open.

Peering over her head he can see the destruction her apartment is in. Plates and mugs are broken on the kitchen floor, chairs and tables are overturned. Her couch is even ripped open on the seats and she takes tentative steps inside, Ashton close behind. Picture frames are askew on the wall or tossed on the floor along with magazines, books, and dirt from upturned plants.

After taking in his surroundings, he shifts his focus to Nadia who has her hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she takes in her home. Nadia walks slowly to certain areas; her couch and her bookshelf in the corner, a spot on the wall that has impressions of picture frames left on the paint. When she pushes open her bedroom door, that’s when she gasps.

Not wanting her to be here longer than necessary, he moves behind her with his hand out as if to hold onto her elbow or cup her shoulder in comfort. He drops his hand in silent defeat, shoving it in his pocket instead.

“I can help you pack some clothes or pillows or whatever you need—”

“Can I have a few minutes, please?” she asks quietly, her voice cracking.

“I can—”

“Please, just…five minutes, Ashton.”

Ashton backs out of her room silently. Before he can make it to her main door, he hears her choked sobs as she cries. He swears in that moment he will protect her with his life.

***

The two men standing guard in front of the Brandy Room door, Charlie and Emil, step aside as soon as Ashton and Nadia approach. They nod solemnly to Ashton then smile in unison to Nadia as they open the doors. Nadia notices the usual men and women standing along the border of the room, Ashton always had his best security in La Belle Vie but she pauses on the woman with sleek black hair sitting at the table and a man in an Armani suit standing with his back to them. She assumes this is the family member Ashton is nervous about.

“Liam,” Ashton calls his name and Liam turns.

Nadia’s taken aback at how handsome he is, sharp jaw, chiseled beard with an odd, hard glint in his eyes but when he smiled it disappeared. When he smiled Nadia was reminded of a puppy that she wanted to get to know.

“Ashton! How’s it going, mate?” Liam sets his short glass of brandy on the circular table in front of him. He walks around the table, his arms opening wide for a hug but Ashton steps back. Liam chuckles shaking his head, resting his hand on the back of one of the chairs. “I deserve that,” he indicates the woman, “this is Veronica.”

Veronica has almond shaped eyes that are a piercing green in color. A beauty mark lies above her perfectly full lips. She stares at them as if bored and Nadia feels very intimidated

“We’ve met briefly,” Ashton’s voice is clipped as he keeps his gaze on Liam. “What are you doing here, Liam?”

“We’re not done with introductions yet! Who may you be, love?” Liam peers behind Ashton at Nadia.

Ashton turns to her; his face softens as he stares at her. He wants to hold her hand, but he knows if he does in this moment, he’ll be weak at her touch which is the opposite of what he wants to be right now.

“This is Nadia.”

Liam brushes past Ashton to take Nadia’s hand in his, bringing it to his lips, smiling on her knuckles.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nadia. I’ve heard whispers about you and they’re true, you are an exceptionally beautiful woman,” he murmurs then kisses her knuckles before releasing her hand.

Nadia’s cheeks flush at the compliment, she’s quick to peek at Ashton whose jaw is clenched at the interaction. She knows how protective he is of her and although Liam looks like a puppy when he smiles, he could have a mean bite for all she knows.

“Thank you,” she replies politely, nonetheless.

“What are you doing here, Liam?” Ashton asks again forcing his voice to remain even and controlled.

“I hear Aleks is still at large and I want to help end him,” Liam shoves his hand in his pocket walking back around the table. He struts confidently as if he owns the place and Nadia is confused at how comfortable he seems as he picks up his glass and takes a smooth swallow. “Veronica has been my little fly on the wall relaying what’s been going on to me.”

“You’ve been spying on me?”

“Spying, getting intel…it’s all relative,” Liam shrugs finishing off his drink. He places his empty glass on the table then leans on it with his palms. “I’m sick of him getting away with shit. I know you’ve got a plan and I want in.”

Ashton is reverted to that horrible day, where he lost his brother forever. Liam went ballistic and charged for the Snatchers who were boasting about the death of his girlfriend and unborn son. It was a distraction that took Ashton and Liam from the main quandary of reaching Aleks.

Ashton hurled himself into the throes of Liam’s rage and broken heartedness until the Snatchers were unconscious. Then Liam fired two kill shots into their foreheads. Aleks got away. Liam and Ashton had a fallout with harsh words then Ashton was abandoned again.

“What do you say?” Liam’s voice pulls Ashton back to the present.

“Why do you want to help now? I haven’t seen nor heard from you in five years, Liam. You don’t want this li—you don’t want a part of this…business… anymore,” Ashton catches himself because of Nadia’s presence.

Liam’s eyes flicker between Ashton and Nadia, the corner of his mouth twitches as he makes the connection that Nadia is completely in the dark of Ashton’s true business. He lets it slide this time.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I want to get rid of Rozhkov more. Veronica is my eyes and ears and when she heard Rozhkov is selling or buying or whatever the hell he does, I had to see you. Just think about it, yeah?” Liam reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a card. He holds it out to Nadia between his two fingers, she plucks it delicately from him. “I know he won’t take it from me, but I can tell he trusts you, beautiful. Make sure he calls me.”

He winks at her quickly, gives Ashton one final look then snaps his fingers. Veronica springs from her seat gliding to the door as they both make their exit. Nadia reads the card in her hand, it’s slate gray with silver writing that reads his name and below that it says ‘Efficient in getting the job done’ followed by a phone number.

Ashton exhales loudly, leaning on the tabletop and Nadia shifts her attention to him. She moves forward, stroking her hand over his back while the other grips his bicep giving him a comforting squeeze. She waits patiently for him to say something, analyzing how heavy his body seems. Not entirely sure on what he did today, she can tell that whatever it was has left him drained then Calum’s advice pops in her head.

“Let’s go home, get you in a nice hot shower and into to bed,” she offers.

He stands to his full height, sighing with a smirk as he strokes her cheek with his fingers.

“I’ll never deny a shower with you, angel. Come on.”

The couple say their quick goodbyes to everyone in the main room of the club, Calum and Asana now seated at the bar. Asana’s long legs are crossed as she sits atop the bar, Calum’s hand resting on her knee as he eyes Ashton after watching Liam exit the Brandy Room. Ashton shakes his head, Calum nods in understanding then turns his attention back to Asana who pokes his nose with her gold painted fingernail.

Ashton keeps a firm hand on Nadia’s thigh as he races home. The events of the day and seeing Liam are trying to catch up with him but he doesn’t want to face them quite yet. He’ll face them after spending time with Nadia in the shower and in their bed until she inevitably falls asleep from the activities they’ll be participating in.

Nadia takes the lead by grabbing his hand and pulls him upstairs to their shared bedroom. While she gathers their towels, Ashton discards his gun from his holster. He unloads it, double checks the safety is on and places it in the perfect outline of the case next to his side of the bed. Before Nadia, he’d always kept it loaded and right on the nightstand but now, he didn’t want her to accidentally pick it up and hurt herself.

He shuts the case with a satisfying snap then turns to Nadia who’s leaning against the opening of the bathroom door. She flashes him a keen smile then pushes off the door jamb entering the bathroom. The water sprays on as he makes his way into the bathroom just in time to see Nadia reach for her zipper.

“Let me,” he tells her softly. His fingers overtake hers, pulling the zipper down its track to the very bottom of her lower back. He brushes the straps off her tanned skin, the fabric drops to the floor in melted gold. She turns around and his breath is stolen at the sight of her naked body before him. “I’ll never get over how beautiful you are.”

Her cheeks flush, then Ashton watches her intently as she unbuttons his dress pants yanking his shirt from the waistband before working on the buttons of his shirt. He lets her push it off his shoulders while he kicks off his boots. He takes over by removing his pants, boxers and socks; his eyes never straying from hers. He lets her lead him into the large shower, steam rolling over them in clouds.

In a controlled manner, he cradles the back of her head in his hand pushing her against the dark tiled wall under the stream of water. Nadia gasps at the movement then hums when he presses his body against hers. She tilts her head back, eyes darkening with lust and love. He smirks at her submission, moving his hand from the back of her head to her neck, his thumb pulling her mouth open.

“What do you want from me, angel?” he asks huskily dipping his head so he can kiss the underside of her jaw. His teeth graze at the lobe of her ear before sucking a bruising kiss on her neck, his favorite form of showing she’s his woman, his love. “Speak to me.”

“Your lips,” she sighs, and he smiles pulling his head back to meet her eyes.

“Where do you want my lips?”

Nadia raises her hand then taps her bottom lip. “Right here.”

He crushes his mouth to hers, tongue invading her mouth easily and he tightens his grip on her waist and the back of her neck. His fingers knot in her hair while her hands travel up his back, squeezing the muscles in his shoulders. He feels as if he’s kissing her too roughly, so he reins it back. Many times before, he’s taken his frustration out by releasing it in rough sex with her. He knows her body well so he knows what she can take, and she always, always has a safe word that if she utters it he will stop whatever he’s doing immediately.

Right now, though, he wants a different form of passion with her, so he kisses her slowly.

“What else?” he mumbles on her lips and she hikes her leg up to his waist. The height difference makes it difficult because she can’t get a firm grip, so he helps by securing his hand behind her knee. His already hard and aching dick brushes against her inner thigh, she bucks her hips forward.

“Want you to fuck me,” she gasps, her nails digging into his skin.

“Already? You don’t want my fingers first?” he teases pushing his hips against hers. Her eyes close and he grins. “You were so good for me in my office…took my fingers so well.”

“Please, Ashton, please,” she whines trying to grind her core over his hot, wet dick.

He leans back then lifts her other leg, so it hooks around his waist securely. He grabs the base of his dick, rubbing his head through her leaking folds, pushing in slightly. Nadia bites her lip.

“You want me to go slow or fast?” he pushes in more, his senses tingling by feeling her warm walls take him in.

“Fast,” she whispers, eyes lowering to watch him enter her inch by inch.

As soon as he’s slotted into her fully, Nadia gasps from the fullness of him, and he begins a fast pace of thrusting. His grip is firm on her thighs as he holds her against the shower wall, cock propelling easily with his force. Nadia’s nails scratch at his back while her body jerks against the tile, her head smacking it as well.

Ashton nudges his hand behind her head as a cushion, he doesn’t want her to get a headache but continues to pound relentlessly into her as her moans bounce off the walls from the stimulation. With each push she clenches around him and it brings Ashton closer to his release. Nadia’s head falls to his neck, her lips suctioning onto his skin.

“Nadia,” he warns through his teeth not wanting a mark to show and he slows his movements. She moans against him instead, her breath hot on his skin, teeth still embedded on his shoulder. “Nadia,” he repeats more sternly, and she releases her teeth.

Satisfied, he picks up his pace, dick slamming in and out in an effortless glide. Her moans are more consistent as she’s rocked with pleasure, clenching around him as she comes.

“That’s my good girl,” he groans, his own orgasm taking over. His hips continue to pulsate against her, his body stilling as they both come down.

Nadia hums, releasing her nails from his skin that Ashton’s sure is covered in red streaks. He doesn’t mind those marks because his men won’t see those. He loves the lasting impression of her passion ingrained in his back, the burn a constant reminder of their fiery love.

He kisses her wet hair, thumb rubbing at the bottom of her scalp before lifting her off him. He sets her down tenderly onto the floor keeping a steady hand on her hips as her legs shake slightly. He glides his hands up and over her chest to cradle her cheeks.

“Let’s clean up and go to bed, yeah? What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

He smiles at her response, it’s not quite the one he was looking for now, but he appreciates it all the same. It was a method he came up with. If she didn’t thank him for an orgasm, it meant he didn’t satisfy her enough—or at all—so that’s his green light to keep going until he pleasured her.

He kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, then gives her a soft peck on the lips before he cleans her up. They massage shampoo in each other’s hair, letting it rinse off as they held each other kissing under the water. Ashton turns the water off and wraps her in the large fluffy towel.

As their bodies dry, they brush their teeth and he brushes through her hair after she toweled it off. It’s one of his most favorite intimate acts to do with her, Nadia adores her hair and he loves the shine and softness of it. Changing into their sleep clothes, he shuts the light off as she crawls into their large bed. When he’s settled next to her, he turns her by the cheek to look up at him.

“I love you, Nadia. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I do. I love you, too, Ashton.” She stretches up to give him a kiss. “Get some sleep and we can discuss Liam tomorrow, okay? I know you’re thinking about it.”

He doesn’t reply as she nestles into the sheets and against his chest, she’s asleep in seconds. Ashton remains awake for hours after. His mind reeling from his past coming into his present, it’s bringing forth emotions he thought he’s long forgotten. Nadia’s fingers tighten on his tank top, sighing out “sleep, honey. ‘m right here.”

He kisses her head then closes his eyes, she’s his weakness as much as she’s his strength.

***

It’s been three weeks now that Nadia has been staying with Ashton. In that time, he’s driven her to and from work and to practice in the city. He’s always parked outside so he can watch for Rozhkov’s men and thankfully she’s been safe every time. Ashton prefers when they’re at his home or La Belle Vie because he knows Nadia is one hundred percent safe.

With his new role of security for Nadia, Calum, Luke, and Michael have all stepped up to take over his usual duties at the club and intercepting phone calls. Ashton is constantly in the know on everything which caused endless late nights; he’s running on caffeine.

The only time Nadia and Ashton are truly apart are when he’s in meetings at the club and while they sleep. One night while he was sending e-mails, he heard a commotion from the kitchen. Jumping into action quickly, he flew down the stairs with his hand on his gun, when he saw her poking around in the cabinets.

Sighing with relief, he removed his hand as he approached her slowly while also forcing himself not to stare at her long legs extended from her shorts.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she jumped at his voice.

“Yeah, I’m…I can’t sleep so I was looking for a snack…I’m sorry, this isn’t my home I shouldn’t be—”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he shook his head. “I’m the reason you’re here, treat it like your home. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Popcorn?”

When the popcorn was popped and in a large glass bowl, he invited her into his study that was opposite his room. Hearing her munch on the popcorn behind him was oddly endearing as they walked through the skyway. He motioned to a plush armchair that had a blanket thrown over the back. Periodically he would place blankets all over the house for her to use, they appeared to be a comfort for her.

“You’re still in a suit this late?” she asked pulling the gray knit blanket over her legs. “Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not really,” he shrugged crossing out a number on his sheet of paper. “I’ve been wearing suits since I was eighteen.”

“It’s like a dress code,” she mumbled shoving popcorn into her mouth.

“How so?” he grinned.

“All of you wear them. When we’re at La Belle Vie, everybody there is in a suit. Even the women, which, isn’t a bad thing of course, but it’s…interesting.” She gave him a narrowed look and he laughed.

“Are you making observations?”

“I am. I’m trying to do process of elimination.”

“For what?”

“Figuring out your job.”

Ashton froze. The playful banter was short lived like he should expect, but he never wants her to know what he does or has done in the past. He never wants her to see the copious amounts of blood on his hands.

“You won’t figure it out, and it’s better if you don’t. Trust me.”

“I do trust you, remember?”

Nearly every night after that, she would join him in his study while eating a bowl of popcorn talking with him until she finished it. It was always his favorite part of the day, spending this time with her. He got to ask her questions and understand her the more she opens up about herself.

He discovered she started dancing at the young age of four, she was constantly dancing and spinning around the house until her parents decided to set her up with lessons. Nadia quickly danced her way to the top of her class and was always excelling to the next age level, two years ahead her own age.

While ballet had its own structure and poise, Nadia really felt free when she danced, like it was the only place for her to be. She received a full scholarship to Juilliard at the age of seventeen, even studied abroad in the Royal Ballet School in London for one semester and then in The Paris Opera Ballet School in Paris.

Ashton is impressed by her successes asking what made her decide to dance at the Chamber City Company when there are plenty other prime ballet companies to be a part of.

“I love it here; I love teaching other young dancers and ballet is more of my soul than a job. If I were to join any other troupe, I’d be run like a machine and it wouldn’t be enjoyable,” she explained.

On another night, he found out how much she loves chocolate covered strawberries and the fog that blankets over dewy grass in the early mornings. Her guilty pleasure is watching classic black and white romance movies amongst her other likes of Italian food and dislikes of avocadoes. Her brown eyes shine a bit brighter when she talks of her interests, but nothing compares to the sparkle in them when she talks about her dancing.

She’s tried to figure out what his job really entails but Ashton catches on to her innocent questions easily and doesn’t reveal a thing. She never gives up and although he admires her perseverance, it upsets him that he continually lies to her but it’s for her own protection. He knows he’s rationalizing, but he brought her into this mess and telling her the truth would make it messier.

Nadia’s upstairs in the bar area with Michael while Ashton is down in the third lowest level of the club with Asana in the weapons room. She’s tapping away at her laptop while he eyes up some new artillery she has displayed out for him.

“I hear you’re going to Italy soon,” Asana starts conversationally.

“I’ve been trying to get out of it,” he mumbles.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to leave Nadia alone.”

Asana smirks and continues typing when she replies, “Why don’t you bring her with you?”

“Absolutely not,” Ashton deadpans, the look on his face clearly signifying it wasn’t open for discussion.

“She’s safest with you,” Asana sighs and closes her laptop. She leans on it; her dark eyes pierce his. “And if Aleks is keeping eyes on you, he’d use your distance from her as an advantage. He could come here and take her out while you’re gone.”

Ashton ponders this for a moment. He would trust Luke and Michael to protect her while he was gone but Asana has a point; Nadia is safest with him. Wherever he goes, there’s plenty of security plus he’s a deadly weapon himself.

“Wouldn’t that be moving too fast? I’ve known her for three weeks and I’d already be bringing her on a trip to Italy? What would she even do while I’m meeting with the Guerriero’s?”

“I could come with and take her shopping,” she smiles.

“This isn’t a vacation, Asana. And Calum would be working as well.”

“I know, and you know that I protect my own,” Asana’s voice turns assertive. “I can see how much she means to you, boss man. Three weeks or three years, there isn’t a deadline on caring for someone. It happens unexpectedly.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no,” Asana shrugs crossing her arms. “I’ll stay here and help make sure she’s safe and going to practice. Have you seen her dance yet, by the way?”

“No…should I have?”

“I’ve read the forums and reviews of the Chamber City Company, and she’s the best dancer. I was only curious.”

“I’m sure I will someday. Thanks Asana, I’ll think about what you said,” he says then turns to the door, but he stops. “What’s going on between you and Cal anyway?”

“Figure it out, boss man,” she sighs airily then goes back to her work.

Later that night Nadia knocks on his study door and Ashton invites her in with a dull tone. He’s standing near the window rubbing the knots in his neck as she enters. His suit jacket has been tossed on one of the armchairs and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He’s been stressed all night.

“Everything all right?” Nadia asks setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She crosses her arms over her chest approaching his desk.

“Not really,” he sighs. “I’m needed in Italy for the next four days. I’ve tried negotiating and sending only Calum but they’re requesting me.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

Ashton turns to look at her, his jaw tensing. “I won’t be here to protect you. And while I trust my men and women to do that while I’m away…it puts me at ease when I know for sure you’re safe. With me.”

A soft pink blooms on Nadia’s cheeks at his sentiment. Over the last few weeks, her trust in Ashton has increased tenfold. He’s treated her with the utmost respect and never overcrowds her. He’s sure to give her her space and that she feels comfortable in his house. She’s still trying to figure out his line of business but her only leads are that it’s dangerous and Ashton is fearfully respected from everyone around him.

“Oh. Would I be here by myself?”

“No,” he responds quickly, “I’d have Michael and Luke here with you. My security system is top of the line but--”

“How long would you be gone?”

“Four days. There’s another option but I’m unsure of it,” he swallows thickly then rests his hands on the desk. He lifts his head looking at her in an almost morose way as he weighs the options he’s been given.

“What’s that option?”

“Asana, my head specialist, suggested I bring you with me so I would know you’re safe. But by knowing me…your life has already been upturned, and I don’t want to add more by flying you across the world.”

Nadia chews on her lower lip. How odd is it that if he were to leave her here, she’d be worried about him? From what she’s gathered on her own probing, his job is dangerous, but she doesn’t know exactly why or how.

Since the moment they met, he’s been protecting her with his life.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” she says brightly.

Ashton’s eyebrows raise in bemusement then he’s laughing, and Nadia follows.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to miss practice or your classes with your students.”

“I’m sure. I can get a sub and practice is on hold because the floors are being redone. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t have a passport,” she laughs nervously. Excitement and nerves bubble in her stomach at the thought of traveling to Italy. She has always wanted to go but never would have dreamed it would be with a man like Ashton, this mysterious, handsome man who has taken her in.

“I can have that arranged, Nadia.”

***

Every morning before Nadia leaves for practice she and Ashton share a cup of coffee and a light breakfast of English muffins and fruit. She leaves the remaining crumbs outside for the birds that always come by the feeder and birdbath, a request she made to Ashton long ago of keeping birdseed on hand. There’s something about watching them that soothes her and always brings a smile to her face.

“How long is practice today?” Ashton asks watching her place the small scraps of food in her palm.

“Three, then I teach from four to five thirty,” she rises from her place at the table and opens one of the French doors. Ashton watches her as she sprinkles the treats on the wooden platform of the feeder then comes back inside to stand next to him. “Do we have plans tonight?”

“Well,” he sighs winding his arm around her waist to pull her closer, “I’ve got a big meeting today that I’m hoping won’t go until five thirty. I was thinking we could go downtown to Caesar’s Palace for dinner?” He rests his other hand on her stomach, rubbing her affectionately.

“You know I never turn down Caesar’s,” she smiles brushing his dark hair away from his forehead. “Should I have Vinny drop me off at the club or come home and wait for you?”

“Meet me at the club, I’m having a new dress delivered for you,” he grins up at her and Nadia tugs on his hair.

“Ashton! What did we just discuss last night?” she whines in mock irritation.

“I can’t help it that I want to spoil you, baby,” he tickles her stomach until she’s doubling over squealing in laughter.

“Spoil me too much and I might get used to it,” she growls lowly in his ear. She nips at the shell of his ear and Ashton tries to drag her onto his lap but Nadia fights away from his grasp. “No, no,” she wiggles her finger at his perplexed expression; she’s never pulled away from him before. “If I spoil you too much, you might get used to it, honey.”

She twirls on her heels and Ashton has half a mind to follow after her, take her in his arms and press her against the kitchen island while his teeth graze along her throat and his fingers slip into her shorts. He restrains himself, knowing that in doing what he desires will leave them both late which isn’t much of a concern for himself, but he doesn’t want to put Nadia in that position. So, he watches her in an ever-growing fondness as she skips upstairs to their room to get dressed.

Within an hour, both Ashton and Nadia are in the main foyer waiting for Vinny to arrive. Ashton is making sure his cufflinks (black with his initials in gold) are situated perfectly while Nadia is plucking off small pieces of lint that only she can see off his shoulders. Her hair is done up in a French chignon with some fly aways shaping her face.

“So, at precisely five forty-five you will be in your office waiting for me for dinner?” she asks, her eyebrows flicking up.

“If the meeting goes well, yes, I will be waiting anxiously for you at five forty-five itching with excitement to help you change into your new dress,” he winks.

“You’re terrible,” Nadia giggles gathering her bags in her arms and over her shoulders. “There won’t be room in our closet if you keep buying me all these dresses.”

“I could always have a new closet built for you,” he suggests tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“My own Barbie Dream Closet, huh?”

“If you say so, doll,” he grins bending down to give her a tender kiss. Nadia sighs into his affection, always welcoming it.

“People will think you dress me every morning,” she mumbles on his lips.

“I prefer to undress you,” his mouth travels to her ear. Nadia snickers and pushes on his chest, but his grip is tight on her forearm.

“You’ve been insatiable, lately,” she sighs in appreciation, “what’s gotten into you?”

Ashton’s lips freeze on her lobe as her words set in. He’s acting the way he did when he was eighteen with Liam, the feeling of losing control so he tried to combat it by fixating it on his sexual endeavors. He doesn’t want Nadia to be a part of that spectrum, but with Aleks Rozhkov coming at large and Liam reappearing, it seems he’s slipping into his old self.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs kissing her cheek innocently before pulling away. “Things have been tense at work.”

“We can talk about it at dinner, and Liam if you want. He’s a big part of this too, right?” Nadia frowns.

Ashton sighs, he desperately wants to tell her everything about his life. She’s been wrapped up in it with him for almost a year and a half. Could he tell her? Should he tell her? Before he can answer, there’s a swift knock on the front door, Vinny’s arrived and Ashton sighs again.

“We’ll talk at dinner. Have a good day and dance your heart out for me, okay?”

“I always do,” she smiles rising on her toes to give him a kiss. “I love you. Don’t work too hard.”

“I love you, too, angel,” he grins opening the door. “Vinny.”

“Hello sir,” Vinny greets. He’s a tall, very broad-shouldered man with a crew cut. He’s tough as nails but is sweet as pie to Nadia, much like everyone in Ashton’s mafia family is. “I’ll make sure she’s at the club right at five forty-five.”

“Thanks Vinny,” Ashton nods as he takes Nadia’s bags from her. “I’ll try to call or text around lunchtime, Nadia.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” she steals another kiss to his cheek then follows Vinny to his matte black Bentley Bentayga that is equipped with bulletproof doors and windows. A feature added thanks to Asana that eases Ashton’s worry when she’s away from him.

Ashton feels the ticking of his watch against his wrist as he watches Calum circle a new Snatcher in the middle of the interrogation room. When he arrived at La Belle Vie, Ashton immediately went to his office to listen to voicemails from the Sheriff’s department and the Guerriero’s requesting his and Nadia’s presence at their annual party. He was called into the interrogation room at eleven o’clock.

Calum has only received bits of information that don’t hold value to Ashton, the Snatcher’s name and his birthday, which Ashton has already forgotten. Michael and Luke have been eyeing Ashton throughout the whole altercation, waiting for his order to do something more or to take the situation into his own hands.

Ashton is exhausted. Each tick of his watch is another reminder that he’s missed his window to call Nadia and it’s left him on a dangerous edge. He wants answers and his fingers twitch at the thought of getting them himself.

“Should we turn the heat up on him?” Michael asks almost excitedly. Luke perks up next to him, this has been a boring questioning for all of them.

Ashton unbuttons his suit jacket, and immediately one of his other associates is beside him to help remove the jacket. He sets his jaw while rolling up his sleeves carefully, watching Calum as he’s bent in front of the Snatcher.

“Hang that up,” Ashton orders motioning to his jacket, “I have dinner plans tonight.” He steps into the square patch of light, revealing himself to the Snatcher who visibly gulps at his appearance. It makes Ashton smirk. “Why don’t you take a break Cal, get a drink.”

“You sure, boss? I just got my ring cleaned and wanted to test it out on this fucker,” Calum turns his fist in the light, his engraved ring that also matches Ashton’s initials engraved ring glimmers. Each member has their initials in a ring so they can leave their mark like Ashton, it’s a form of unity.

“Maybe later. You’ve been at this too long, let me see if I can get our friend here to talk.”

“You’re in for it now,” Calum grins devilishly at the Snatcher. He gives Ashton a quick glance then backs into the darkness.

Ashton cocks his head to the side, folding his arms over his chest as he inspects the Snatcher like a car he’s thinking of buying. He’s contemplating on how to proceed. The ticking of his clock is felt on his whole arm, a constant reminder that his Nadia is dancing.

“From what I’ve heard, you were quite easy to catch,” he begins. “Why’s that?”

“It was either get caught by your stupid men or fall off the building,” the man responds. “I didn’t want to die so this seemed like the lesser option.”

“Oh, you think so?” Ashton smirks. “If that’s the case, then why did you gulp when I showed up?” he walks around the man slowly, taking in his body language. His arms are bound tightly behind him on the back of the chair, but his body is full of tension, Ashton can see the sweat on his neck as he comes back around to his front. “You’ve heard things about me, right?” Ashton bends over to look into his eyes.

The man clears his throat and licks his lips averting his gaze from Ashton’s. “Maybe.”

“I’m curious as to how you think being brought to me is the lesser option,” Ashton stands straight again, planting his feet.

“Others have been let go and told to change their identity.”

Ashton stares at him for a long time, waiting for the punchline because that’s the furthest thing from the truth. When the punchline doesn’t come, Ashton shakes his head sighing.

“Who told you that? Your boss Aleks? Hate to break it—actually, no, I’d love to break it to you, Snatcher, but he’s been lying to you. I don’t let people go.”

“Then just kill me.”

“No…no, I don’t think I will,” Ashton rubs his chin as if in contemplative thought. “This could be your lucky day where I do let you go after you give me the information I ask for. This tough act of mine could be just that, right? An act? So, tell me what Aleks is doing in my city again after being silent and you’ll be on your merry way to Mexico or wherever you think your other Snatcher fiends have disappeared to.”

There’s silence for a long moment, Ashton waits patiently. The ticking against his wrist feels harder, sounds louder, and it just makes him angrier that he couldn’t call Nadia on her lunch break. He can’t let that show right now, he wants the Snatcher to think he’ll walk free and release Aleks’ information.

“I have all day here,” he sighs, “I can order food and drink and enjoy it right in front of you until you talk. Because you will talk. Sandy beaches calling your name and all that.”

“It’s… it has nothing to do with you,” the Snatcher finally says, shoulders falling in defeat.

“What has nothing to do with me? You need to be more specific.”

“He—Aleks, he wants….” He shifts in his chair, but it only tightens the restraints on his body.

“What does he want?” Ashton implores stepping closer.

“He wants Nadia.”

Ashton fights to keep his composure while his associates react to that information and the ticking against his skin isn’t helping as it sounds a lot like her name. Na-dia, Na-dia, tick, tick. He inhales deeply through his nose.

“What does he want with her?”

“He’s getting paid from some anonymous person with a lot of money. They say she dances like no one has ever seen before.”

“What does this anonymous dealer plan to do?”

“Aleks will get paid in full and the anonymous person will kill her.”

Ashton flexes his fingers walking behind the Snatcher again, so he won’t see Ashton shaking with rage. He looks to Michael who understands what he wants without a word; to check on Nadia with Vinny. Michael exits the interrogation room with his phone already pressed to his ear.

Ashton regains his composure then circles back in front of the Snatcher; he rests his hands on the arms of the chair peering at him with a look that could honestly kill.

“What is the point of wanting her then killing her?” Ashton hates speaking the words out loud, it leaves a vile taste in his mouth.

“Aleks negotiated he’d have her as his own tiny dancer before sending her off to the anonymous dealer.”

Ashton stares him down, his anger boiling as the ticking of his watch persists. When he stands to full height he walks back around the chair just as Michael comes back into the room nodding his head that Nadia is all right.

“When does he plan on executing this plan?” Ashton’s voice is leveled.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head vigorously which in part shakes his whole body. “Can I go now? I told you everything I know.”

Ashton slips his gun from his shoulder holster meticulously; he runs his fingers over his initials on the grip.

“You’re wrong again, because if it’s about Nadia,” he bends down so his mouth is level with the Snatcher’s ear, “it has everything to do with me. It isn’t your lucky day after all.” In one swift motion, Ashton stands straight releasing the safety and pulls the trigger into the back of the Snatcher’s head. “You would’ve been better off falling off that building.” The Snatcher’s body crumples forward as the shot echoes throughout the room. “Put the lights on please. Clean this mess up.”

He holsters his gun while extending his arm for his jacket that is placed over his forearm and he leaves the room. Noises of his associates springing into action follow him up the stairs to the bar. Calum is sitting near the edge of the bar as if waiting for Ashton to ascend.

“Ready for me?” Calum asks rising from his seat.

“He’s taken care of,” Ashton mumbles continuing to walk past him towards his office. Calum is quick to follow, knowing to remain silent in the elevator until they’re in the safety of his office.

Ashton tosses his jacket over the back of the couch moving to his drink cart and pours himself brandy in a crystal glass. He swallows it in one pull before he pours another then sits himself at his desk. Calum approaches him carefully.

“What’d you find out?” Calum asks sitting in one of his chairs.

Ashton circles the rim of the glass with his finger. “An anonymous dealer is paying Aleks to capture Nadia. Aleks plans to use her as his own tiny dancer before sending her off to the dealer who will then kill her.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton murmurs, removing his finger from the glass then sits back in his chair. Calum’s brows are furrowed in thought. “The Snatcher didn’t know anything else. Security is going to be tripled, and I’m going to contact Hotchkiss to be on high alert.”

“But Nadia’s all right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if she weren’t. I don’t want to alarm her, but I’m sending more men to her dance class to be safe until Vinny brings her back here.”

“What about her performance of Romeo and Juliet? That’s in a few days, isn’t it?”

“Shit,” Ashton hisses. He sighs deeply twisting his engraved ring. “I’ll have to tell her she can’t do it. I’m not risking her getting taken right under my nose.”

“She’s not going to like that, mate,” Calum shakes his head.

“Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn. Her safety has always been my top priority, you know that, and she knows that.”

There’s a knock at the door and Peter, the best of Ashton’s waitstaff, enters swiftly.

“Sorry sir, this was delivered, and I was told to personally hand it to you,” Peter says holding out a square envelope.

Ashton takes it from him, inspecting his name scrawled on the front. “Thank you, Peter.” He cuts it open with his letter opener to see it’s an invitation. In a sloping font on hard parchment are the words:

Liam Payne requests the presence of Ashton Irwin and Nadia Sharapova at his favored residence of King’s Club at eight o’clock. Mr. Payne will be on the second floor.

Ashton curses and tosses the invitation across his desk. Calum picks it up, reads through it quickly then glances up at his friend, his boss, with eyebrows raised.

“So, he is back, then?”

“He wants to help take down Rozhkov apparently. I’ll go but Nadia isn’t coming.”

“You were just saying how you wanted security tripled. You know you’ll be more focused on her wellbeing than talking with Liam. Why don’t you want her to go?”

“He showed a little too much interest for my liking.”

Calum’s lips twitch. “Everyone shows a little too much interest in Nadia for your liking. She should go with you; I know how Liam being here is derailing you, but she helps keep you at ease. Security will still be tight, but if you don’t bring her she’ll know something’s up.”

Ashton sighs because he knows Calum is right. Nadia does keep him grounded and with the new information of requesting her kidnapping, he’d be a fool to let her out of his sight.

***

It’s the night before Nadia will be joining Ashton to Italy. She arrived home—how strange it is to call Ashton’s home hers and even stranger that it felt so natural—from ballet class to see bags set aside to the entrance of the kitchen. Curious, she inspects them closer to see one of them has a tag with her name on it. Ashton must have packed for her.

On the counter she saw his wallet and keys and a note of their flight departure, she noticed a passport wasn’t present. Had he forgotten she doesn’t have a passport? Nadia looks all over the counter and the kitchen table for the small blue book but saw nothing and decides to head upstairs in search of Ashton.

There’s low music coming from his room, the door partially closed. She knocks before opening it and doesn’t see Ashton. She steps in a bit further peering into his closet that was open to the right when the bathroom door swings open behind her.

“Nadia?”

“Oh!” she jumps turning around then gasps when she sees Ashton wearing nothing, but a black towel held in his fist on his waist. She ogles at his bare torso, the chains of his necklace shining with his tattoos on full display over his muscular stomach. Her eyes continue to travel over his perfectly curled chest hair down as it disappears in a thin trail passed his bellybutton. There are some scars littered about his skin that she wants to know each story of.

“Is everything all right?” he asks, fist tightening on the towel.

“Um, I’m sorry. I…uhh, I was…” she stutters forcing her eyes back up to his hazel ones that are dead set on her. Her cheeks warm by being caught gawking and clears her throat, “I saw things were packed downstairs but didn’t see a passport for me.”

“It will be on the jet tomorrow morning, don’t worry,” he smiles moving to his dresser. He pulls open a drawer, the muscles in his back flexing with the motion and Nadia’s mouth goes dry. There’s another tattoo on the back of his neck, some type of bird that piques her interest once more. Her eyes follow the slope of his back downward, stopping at the towel where she can see the outline of his ass. He turns around, his expression amused. “Is that all?”

His voice snaps her gaze away and she wishes the earth would open up and swallow her whole. How embarrassing to be caught not just once, but twice at checking out his body.

“That’s all,” she clears her throat once more then walks briskly to the door. “Um, thank you. Sorry.”

She rushes into her room, snapping the door closed behind her and touches her hands to her burning hot cheeks. The first thing she’d noticed about Ashton was how incredibly handsome he is, but she never thought of him without a shirt on. Now that she’s seen him—muscles, tattoos and all—that’s all she sees when she closes her eyes when she’s in bed.

The next morning, Ashton and Nadia arrive at the plane hangar just as the sun is starting to rise from the horizon. Nadia’s only flown on a plane a handful of times, but this is the first time she’ll be on a private jet. She’s still trying to figure out exactly what Ashton does; is he a CEO of some major company she’s never heard of? With all the security (there’s about half a dozen standing outside the plane) she almost wonders if he’s a Prince of some sort.

He motions her forward up the steps, she uses the railing to steady herself because without it she would fall to her knees in disbelief that she’s boarding a private plane. Once inside, it’s decorated the way she thought it would be in dark maroons, blacks and accents of gold. Ashton certainly has a desired taste.

“Pick any seat,” he tells her quietly.

Nadia moves a little bit more towards the back near the bathroom and sits down on the plush leather seat, her fingers rub over the fabric.

“My passport—”

“Is up with the Captain. You’ll get it just as we land,” he nods placing his phone on the seat across the aisle from her. He glances at her to see she’s sitting on her hands, legs shaking as she gazes out the plane window. “Are you nervous?” he moves to the seat across from her.

“A little,” she pulls her lip in her mouth, smiling bashfully. “I’m not too sure why.”

“If it’s your safety you’re concerned about, you’ll be well protected,” he leans forward resting his hand over her knee, “I promise.”

Nadia nods just as commotion from the front of the plane is heard, Calum and a strikingly beautiful woman with long dark hair held in a pony atop her head and skin to match board. Ashton removes his hand as Calum and the woman approach. The simple touch left Nadia’s knee burning, and she had to shift her mind from envisioning him in only his towel.

“Nadia, you remember Calum?” Ashton asks and Nadia stands from her seat, smiling to Calum. “And this is Asana, she’s one of my best specialists.”

“I’m the best,” Asana smiles then holds out her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Nadia.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nadia shakes her hand, “What do you specialize in?”

“Weapons,” Asana answers simply, Ashton sucks in a breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Nadia. “The company buys, sells and trades weapons and I know which ones are worth keeping or selling. I hear you’re a dancer. How’d that start?”

Asana sits in the seat Ashton recently occupied and Nadia sits back down in her own.

“I was four when I started dancing and I picked it up super easily. Dancing has always been a part of me, and I dance with the Chamber City Company,” Nadia explains.

“Do you have any shows coming up? I’d love to see you dance.”

“Sleeping Beauty will be premiering in a couple of weeks,” she says glancing quickly to Ashton who appears to be in deep conversation with Calum. “I’m the Lilac Fairy.”

“Oh, how pretty. When’s opening night? I want to be front and center.”

Nadia continues to answer Asana’s questions and asks a bit of her own as well. Asana has been with Ashton’s company for almost four years, she sought him out when she discovered his company is number one in the business. Nadia feels a comradeship with Asana instantly, she’s easy to talk to and is excited to learn more about her on this little trip.

Nadia tries to listen in on Ashton and Calum’s conversation about their meeting, but the only thing she hears is that it’s with someone named Guerriero. Eventually, as the flight continues and meals are had, she becomes sleepy and curls up against the seat.

When she wakes to use the bathroom, Ashton is still awake on his phone as she passes by his seat. Her stomach grumbles a little while she washes her hands, back home she’d be in Ashton’s office with a bowl of popcorn. Nadia returns to her seat to find a small bag of popcorn on her pillow accompanied by another blanket. She looks to Ashton who gives her a smile then pops his own piece of popcorn into his mouth, an opened bag sits in his lap.

“Thank you,” Nadia whispers with a smile and sits back in her seat pulling apart the bag.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back, eyes crinkling and shining in the blue light of his phone.

“You should go to sleep.”

“I will soon, just a few more e-mails.”

Nadia sighs shaking her head but watches him silently as she eats her small bag of popcorn. After a few minutes, Ashton looks up at her.

“You should sleep, Nadia. I don’t want you to have jet lag.”

“You should, too, Ashton.” Her lips spread in a playful smile and Ashton chuckles.

“All right, fine. When we’re done with our popcorn, we’ll both go to sleep. I heard you’re going to be in a show, soon?” he pockets his phone in his suit jacket then picks up his popcorn bag.

“Yeah, opening night is in two weeks from today actually, or tomorrow depending where we are in the world.”

“Would it be all right if I came and watched?”

“I’d like that,” she nods watching the way his jaw muscle works as he chews. “Asana said she’d like to come as well.”

“Then I’m sure Calum would like a ticket,” he grins.

The popcorn is finished in comfortable silence, Nadia drifts off to sleep easily and Ashton stays awake a little longer but he’s not answering e-mails. He’s on the Chamber City Company’s website buying the whole front row of seats and a large bouquet of flowers to be sent to Nadia on opening night. He glances at her while she sleeps, her long brown hair cascading over her shoulder looking soft as silk. He wonders if she thinks about their post shower interaction as much as he does.

The first two days of staying at Ashton’s villa in Italy are spent sleeping on and off by Nadia due to the jetlag. Ashton secretly favored this because he knew she’d be safer in the house with Asana. He made sure a chef cooked her three meals a day while he was with Calum discussing terms with the Guerriero’s and that there was popcorn stocked.

On the third day, Asana finds Nadia out by the pool basking in the sun. She sits on the pool chair beside her frowning.

“What’s up?” Nadia asks.

“Do you want to go shopping? I know Ashton wants you to stay here so you’re safe, but you’re in Italy! There’s a club Ashton and Calum are going to that’s always a good time. Please, Nadia, you’re killing me being cooped up in this villa while we’re in Europe,” Asana urges.

Nadia laughs softly and considers Asana’s suggestion.

“I do want to explore a bit…will Ashton be mad?”

She has seen him beat up three men when they first met after all, but he never raised his voice at her, and how could he expect her to stay inside while in a beautiful country? She’s upset that she wasted the first two days sleeping off her jetlag but that couldn’t be helped. There’s a feeling in her stomach almost nagging at her not to do it but another voice in her head is telling her this is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“What if he does get mad?”

“I’ll handle him,” Asana holds out her hand, “come take a walk on the wild side.”

The pair venture out exploring the city and shop in almost every boutique they walk past. Asana made sure she had some security with them and had her own weapons hidden very discreetly on her person. She can handle Ashton no problem, but she’s seen him furious and hopes that her extra thought to protection would ease him up a bit.

After their quick dinner of true pasta cuisine, they arrive back at the villa to see Ashton waiting for them at the front door. He disappears inside, Asana and Nadia exchange a look before trekking up the steps after him, shopping bags jostling against each other before setting them down on the floor.

“I thought we agreed you’d stay in the villa?” his voice is low and controlled. Nadia can hear the slight aggravation in it though.

“If it was while I was sleeping than that’s not fair, I wasn’t that coherent,” Nadia defends crossing her arms. “I wanted to see more of Italy than out of these windows.”

“She was perfectly—” Asana begins but Calum clears his throat from the stairs. He shakes his head then motions her to come join him. Asana sighs moving next to him and Nadia is alone in front of Ashton.

“It’s dangerous Nadia, and I need to know you’re safe here.”

“What was the point of me being here if I can’t leave? I’m not your prisoner.”

“The point,” he steps forward, his jaw set and his eyes dark. Nadia stands her ground but can understand how intimidating he is to everyone else. “Is that you don’t get hurt. It’s the last night and you’re going to stay here. End of discussion.”

He stalks away down the hall with Calum following him. Nadia turns to Asana who has an apologetic smile. Nadia lifts up her bags of new clothes, grabs Asana’s hand moving upstairs.

“We’re going to that club.”

Ashton is listening to Angelo Guierrero over the pulsating music of the club, his eyes gliding over the dancing bodies below. The VIP suite is filled with members of both mafia families and the drinks keep flowing as women keep interloping between the men in seats. At his vantage point he has perfect view of the entrance and his heart plummets into his stomach when he sees Nadia enter with Asana.

“I am glad we have uh…how you say, come to agreement,” Angelo continues holding out his gold ring covered hand.

“I am too, Angelo,” Ashton responds shaking the man’s hand, his eyes darting away quickly from Nadia. “Do you mind if we enjoy the rest of our evening? No more business talk, yeah?”

Angelo gives out a hearty laugh squeezing Ashton’s hand.

“Si, si! Divertitevi!”

Ashton rises from his armchair leaning on the railing as he watches Nadia press through the bodies. He’s torn between anger and amazement that she disobeyed him by coming here. She looks exquisite in a sparkly maroon dress, her cleavage shimmers in the strobe lights while she dances to the music which is ironically a remixed version of Sexy Chick. Her flowing brown hair falls over her shoulder in a long ponytail while her back is exposed from the dress, and Ashton sees a tattoo inked along her spine.

He’s hypnotized by her movements, her arms are thrown into the air as she dances, her body fluid as water. It makes him want to see her dance ballet desperately. Calum joins his side who sighs in disappointment observing the two women in the middle of the dance floor.

“Do you think Asana convinced her to come?” Calum asks.

“No,” Ashton murmurs watching Nadia move seductively to the beat. Her eyes glide up to meet his and she gives him a sly smile. “This was Nadia’s decision.”

The two men watch Nadia and Asana dance and drink together for a few more songs until Ashton can’t stand it anymore and moves to the stairs without a goodbye to Angelo. He wants to get Nadia out of here and back to villa where she can’t get into trouble. She’s already in trouble with him but he’s not quite sure if he’ll reprimand her yet as he pushes through the hot sweaty bodies.

As he approaches her, there’s a man that’s trying to pull Nadia against him to dance but she’s clearly trying to push him away. Asana is cornered by two other men, but Ashton knows she’ll have them on their asses in about thirty seconds. When Ashton finally approaches, he shoves the man away grabbing Nadia’s wrist and drags her out of the club.

“What is your problem?!” she shrieks trying to twist her free of his vice-like grip.

“I told you stay at the villa,” he responds through his teeth.

“For my protection, right? What exactly are you protecting me from?”

Ashton ignores her as she continues to resist and yell drunkenly at him until they’re to his car. Calum and Asana’s voices carry over to them when he opens the door, pushing her inside.

“I’m not a child,” she glowers at him.

“You’re sure acting like one,” he growls back.

“Sorry, sir,” she snarls clambering into the car.

Ashton sets his jaw then shuts the door in her face. He slides into the driver seat easily, waiting for Asana and Calum to join them in the car.

Once everyone is settled, he peels away from the curb zooming back to the villa. He glances at her in the rearview mirror, his anger dissipates each time he looks back. He tries not to let his eyes wander over her long legs, but he fails miserably. They look smooth as satin and he’s desperate for a touch, but he tightens his hand on the steering wheel.

Back at the villa, Nadia storms out of the car slamming the door harshly in her wake. Asana glares at Ashton and Calum before following her inside. Ashton doesn’t see either of them until it’s time to drive back to the jet the next afternoon. Nadia won’t look or speak to him.

Nadia’s opening night is in a few days and in between that time and coming back from Italy, she still hasn’t spoken to Ashton, she’s been very cold and distant. Ashton had decided to be the one to drive her to practice and to her ballet class she teaches. At one point she looked like she was about to say something when he told her that bit of news, but she remained tight lipped, nodded, and walked away to her room.

Thankfully, when she accompanied him to La Belle Vie she would join Asana at the bar and talk with her. The two have become incredibly close since their rendezvous in Italy. Nadia’s laughter always follows him as he greets other associates in the bar area before inviting them to his office.

Nadia watches him disappear through the secret door to his office, his hazel eyes meeting her warm brown. For a moment she forgets she’s upset with him, that he treated her like a child by dragging her from the club in such a manner and forcing her to stay inside like she was a grounded teenager. Then she remembers how little he made her feel and her bitterness is returned.

“He’s very protective of people he cares about,” Asana tries to reason.

“He didn’t yell at you and drag you out,” Nadia mutters.

“That’s because he knows I would kick his ass. Don’t worry, I got a mouthful from Calum,” she shakes her head then gulps down the rest of her dirty martini easily.

“What’s going on between you and Calum, anyway?” Nadia peers at her friend with a slight smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Asana winks then pops her olive into her mouth. “Probably the same thing that’s going on between you and Ashton.”

It’s Nadia’s turn to blush.

She’s not entirely sure what’s going between her and Ashton. There’s no doubt some form of chemistry between them, but there’s so many secrets he’s keeping. She appreciates his protection but the way he treated her at the club was almost insulting. She’s not some fragile doll that will break.

The next morning, she speaks to Ashton for the first time telling him she’ll be at the studio late.

“What for?” he asks scrolling through his e-mails and drinking his coffee.

“I want to make sure I have all my variations down.”

“Opening night is tomorrow; won’t you be tired if you have to be at the theater by five?” his eyebrows raise, and Nadia is taken aback at his knowledge of her schedule.

“No, I won’t be. So, you don’t have to stay while I dance. I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

“I’ll stay. No need for me running around and leave you there unprotected.”

Nadia sighs in defeat, she knows fighting him on this will only end in his victory. She’s not nervous about the performance at all, she’s more nervous about having Ashton seeing her dance.

At five thirty on the dot, Ashton enters the dance studio where Nadia teaches the smaller students. He holds the door open for the dance moms and dads as their little one’s prance along the sidewalk. Nadia is cleaning up small ribbons from the floor when he notices her.

“Can you lock the door for me, please?” she asks, and Ashton complies. “There’s a small office through that door you can use. You don’t have to sit out here and be distracted.”

“All right, let me know when you’re ready to go.”

As soon as Ashton settles in the quaint office area and has his phone opened to his e-mails, orchestra music starts to play, and he looks out the window of the door to see Nadia dancing. She’s everything he’s pictured in his head but so much more. He can see the true power in her body as she moves fluidly, her muscles pronounced in her movements.

He loses the concept of time as he watches her glide across the floor, he’s transfixed by her and realizes how deep his attraction and care for her truly runs. He rises from his seat, opens the door and the music fills his ears. With careful steps he moves towards Nadia, her legs lifting high in the air as she moves closer and closer to him.

She comes to an abrupt stop right into his arms, gasping at him being there. Her fingers squeeze on his suit covered bicep while his hand braces her lower back, her brown eyes shift to meet his honey green tea colored ones.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, chest heaving from dancing. “Is the music too distracting?”

“No,” Ashton shakes his head pulling a stray strand of her hair from her lips. “You’re distracting, I haven’t gotten anything done since you started dancing.”

“I’m sorry,” she tries to push away from him, “we can go—”

“Not yet, I have something to do first.”

“What?”

In an instant, Ashton dips his head to kiss her and as soon as their lips touch an electric shock is exchanged. Nadia hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted to kiss him until now and now she doesn’t want to stop. She gasps on his mouth letting him guide the kiss how he wants, her stomach filled with butterflies.

The hand that’s not on her back slides up her thigh underneath the practice skirt she’s wearing giving her chills at his touch. Nadia rises on her toes and Ashton lifts her in the air, their lips still connected in passion. Her legs wrap around his waist, she can feel his strong muscles as he holds her.

Already wanting to be closer to him, she tries to work open the buttons on his shirt and Ashton halts their kiss settling her back down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop apologizing,” he holds her jaw in his hand, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “The reason I stopped is because what I want to do with you shouldn’t be done in an open window studio.” He feels her shiver at his hushed words, and he smirks. “Let’s go home.”

Ashton leads Nadia through the skyway hand in hand, the sun is just setting below the trees and they’re cast in a burning red glow. Her stomach twists in anticipation at what’s about to come as they enter his bedroom. Cloaked in red, he pushes her to the edge of his bed, his fingers lifting up her skintight shirt. She pushes off his suit jacket, eyes widening at the shiny gun secured to his stomach.

“Let me put this away,” he tells her covering the weapon with his hand, “and you take this off for me, hm?” his finger dips below the waistband of her skirt. His finger leaves her skin ablaze.

Eyes glued to each other, he watches her pull her skirt down and off her legs, followed by her leggings so she’s standing only in her bra and panties. Ashton groans slightly as she pulls her hair out from the low bun, it cascades over her breasts in dark waves. When he’s finished with the proper safety precautions with his gun, he locks it in his case. He stalks towards her, unbuttoning his shirt then tosses it to the floor. She looks so tempting in the red glow of the night, she’s the epitome of desire and he wants a taste.

“Can you take the rest off for me?” his eyes gesture to her bra and panties. Nadia’s quick to comply, the air of dominance in his voice is apparent yet not forceful. His questions always give her an option for an out if she wishes. She slips her bra off slowly, relishing in the way his eyes practically devour her before pulling down her panties. “Sit down.”

Again, she obeys then Ashton falls to his knees in front of her. He spreads her legs open so he can lean up and give her a burning kiss, his tongue swiping in her mouth. She kisses him back in excitement, hands sliding over his shoulders and into his hair. His fingers tickle up her thighs to her waist, he pulls his lips from hers and smiles as she chases for more of his kiss.

“I’m going to make you feel good, okay?” he pants, and she nods, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Lay down.” She lays back and he falls with her because of her hold on his hair but he leaves sucking kisses down her sternum to her lower stomach.

He lifts her legs so her feet rest on the end of the bed, his nose skims up her thigh then he transitions to the other thigh. He kisses on her pubic bone and Nadia sucks in a harsh breath. Ashton wraps his arms around her thighs, then flattens his tongue against her core in one long, slow stroke. Her body lurches from the contact. It makes Ashton smile glancing up at her as her eyes close when he stretches his tongue on her lips again.

He dips his tongue lower, teasing her entrance then adds his lips to finally get a full taste. Nadia gasps, her thighs tightening around his head. Ashton moves in quick motions, flicking his tongue against her clit then suctions his mouth on her, eating her out vigorously. She rotates her hips with his mouth, her moans sound quiet and restrained so Ashton pulls his mouth from her.

“Nadia, look at me,” he says kissing up her thigh lazily. Her eyes open heavily. “Don’t hold back. When you orgasm, you’re going to say ‘thank you’ after each one. Then I know you’re feeling good. Understand?” she nods, and he nips at her thigh which makes her yelp. “Tell me.”

“Under…I understand, sir,” she gulps breathless.

“Good girl, I love when you call me that,” he mutters lowering his face to her exposed core. He teases her by ghosting his mouth over her pussy lips, inhaling her in. “Taste better than I imagined,” he sighs then dives right back in. Nadia gasps, circling her hips with his mouth again, back arching as his tongue licks the right spot.

Her thighs quake as she comes on his mouth, he slurps at her excitedly tightening his fingers on her thighs until they relax but Ashton doesn’t let up.

“Thank you,” she sighs quietly.

He hums against her, his tongue circling her clit while he adds a finger inside her. The moan she makes causes the strain in his pants become noticeable, but he ignores it to please her more. He pumps his finger inside her easily, curling it then tickling her spongy wall as his tongue frantically licks.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he sighs.

She’s wriggling beneath him, thighs clenching once more and her orgasm leaks on his tongue and finger. This orgasm lasts slightly longer, her whimpering drives him crazy and he needs to be inside her. He slides his finger out, sucking her taste off him as he does, and her body deflates against the bed. Ashton wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, appreciating the way she looks coming down.

He removes his clothes quickly, slipping on a condom then lifts her up placing her in the middle of his bed. Nadia lifts her legs so he can slot himself in between her thighs, he kisses up her stomach, tongue swirling over her nipple then he hovers above her, his arms on either side of her head.

“You forgot something, angel,” he sighs kissing her neck. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she responds automatically. He smiles, happy with her quick submission to him. He drops his hips against hers, she lets out an impatient huff. “Please, Ashton…need you.”

Ashton plants his knees on the bed pushing her legs up farther, the head of his dick nudging inside and clipping her clit. Her nails are scratching up the sides of his back urging him further until he bottoms out then begins an even rhythm. Nadia’s fingers slope up his back, meeting his thrusts evenly then he kisses her. He pushes her legs even further to her elbows so he can pound into her with ease and power.

“A-ash,” she pants, nails digging into his back.

He fists the comforter as he tries to keep his release at bay, he’s concentrating on his breathing but it’s so hard when she’s clenching around him. Her nails add another sensation he’s never felt, it’s pulling the burn for her from the inside out.

“Thank you, oh…Ash,” she whimpers in his neck and he quickly pulls out, flipping her over onto her stomach with ease.

He roams his hands over her ass then to her hips, dragging her closer. He slides into her easily, picking up a quick pace of fucking her from behind. From this angle he can see the tattoo inked up her spine, he glides his fingers over the intricate looped design and the flower that rests between her shoulder blades. Nadia’s moans are consistent at this angle, he feels her multiple orgasms lubricating him up, so he’s slick with her juices making it easier to snap his hips against her.

She’s pushing herself onto him, aiding in her release while a quick succession of ‘thank yous’ tumble from her lips. Ashton’s climax is approaching fast, so he leans forward, propelling his pelvis in quick movements. His nose is in her hair, he’s intoxicated by her smell, her pussy clenching around him as he finally lets go. She’s moaning with his groans until he’s finished then remains there for a moment catching his breath.

With kisses to her shoulder and down her back, he pulls out then steps off the bed. He removes the condom tossing it quickly into his bathroom trash. Nadia is still slumped over, her ass in the air and he loves the sight. He gives her a moment, pulling on some shorts and grabs a shirt for her to sleep in.

“Hey, look at me pretty girl,” he coos gently, brushing her hair from her face. She stares at him with tired eyes. “Put this on, use the bathroom and come back to bed.”

Her movements are sluggish as she flips onto her back taking the shirt from him. He helps her pull it over her head and pulls her arms out. She takes his offered hands leading her to the bathroom. He closes the door for her privacy then lays on his bed, the sun has well gone down now but the city lights and moon fill his room with a dim radiance. That fiery red haze is gone but he still feels it in his bones.

Nadia shuffles slowly back to his bed after using the bathroom and he welcomes her into his arms, she snuggles against him as if they’ve been doing this for years instead of the first time. He kisses her hair and she sighs contentedly.

“Now I might be tired for opening night,” she teases and Ashton laughs. “You’ve never done this, have you?”

“Slept with a beautiful woman like you? No, not until now.”

“No—I mean, you’ve never brought someone back here to your own bed. It’s always been in your room at La Belle Vie.”

Ashton sighs. “No, I haven’t. How did you know about that?”

“I know about the Gold Room, why else would you have a bedroom in your office?”

His heart sinks. Does she think she’s just another notch in his belt?

“Nadia, I’ve grown to adore and care for you in a way I’ve never felt towards another person,” he admits, and it feels so good to say it out loud. “You’re very special to me.”

She tilts her head up, her hand finding his cheek in the dim light then drags his mouth to hers for a sweet kiss.

“You’re special to me, too. I’m glad no other woman has been in your bed but me.”

The next night for her opening night as the Lilac Fairy went by without a hitch. All of Ashton’s associates filled the front row seats that he bought with Calum and Asana to his left while Luke and Michael were on his right. His eyes never left Nadia as she danced across the stage. Her name was whispered amongst the people around him and he felt smug that he’s the only one who knows her so intimately.

An hour before the show, Calum told him that Aleks has been keeping a low profile. There haven’t been any purchases on his end or deals that have been scheduled. It left Ashton feeling unsettled because if he knows Aleks, he’s plotting something for sure.

It’s in the background of his mind to set up more eyes on the Rozhkov mansion but Nadia’s performance is on the foreground of his mind. He’s transfixed by her just as last night but the stage lights and the make-up she’s wearing exemplifies her beauty. When the show is over, he plans on taking her to Caesar’s Palace, the most notorious restaurant in the city, after congratulating her in her dressing room on a job well done.

***

Five forty-five on the dot, Nadia breezes into his office with a radiant smile that grows bigger at the sight of the garment bag hanging from his fingers. Ashton grins back welcoming her into his free arm giving her a hello kiss that she deepens, hands roaming over his shoulders and into his hair.

“What’s the matter?” she sighs pulling away feeling how tense he is under her touch. “Did your meeting not go well?”

Ashton clenches his jaw. “It went good and bad, but we have to go to The King’s Club at eight o’clock, Liam’s requested us.”

“Oh, all right,” she shrugs then eyes the dress bag hanging off his fingers. “Can I see my dress?”

“I thought you don’t want to be seen as a sugar baby, angel,” he teases extending his arm away from her grabby fingers. “I can always send it back if you don’t want it.”

“No, please I want to see,” she pouts.

“How about you take it in the bedroom and put it on for me then let me know what you think,” he smiles handing her the bag.

She squeals quietly, snatching the bag the same time she pecks his lips then skirts to his bedroom but keeps the door open. Ashton shakes his head knowing she’s doing that to torment him, but he resists temptation and waits patiently. When he hears her gasp, he knows she’s opened the bag.

“What do you think?” he calls crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s gorgeous!”

He smiles then continues to wait patiently for her to change and grace him with her presence. It’s not long until she’s strutting out in the tight-fitting iridescent dress. It’s two toned with gold and silver fabric with the gold wrapping asymmetrically over the silver and Nadia looks like a bombshell. The colors contrast beautifully with her tanned skin and the plunging neckline showcases her perfect breasts.

“This is perfect, I love it,” her eyes dance with excitement as she parades in front of him.

“You sure? I didn’t know if this area right here would fit you,” he trails his finger down the middle of her ample cleavage, a smirk ghosts his lips.

“Seems like you didn’t really want it to fit,” she giggles then pulls his arms off his chest. “How can I ever thank you for this?” Her hands move to his belt already undoing the buckle and snatching his zipper, falling to her knees.

“Seems like you already have an idea,” he grins enjoying the view of her breasts even more at this angle.

“Just a little thought,” she shrugs shucking his trousers off his hips. She takes him in her palm, he’s hot and heavy in her hand and she gives the head of his dick the gentlest kiss, but it spurs his member to life. She continues to give him soft, wet kisses, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

Ashton strokes his fingers across her cheek trying to keep his breathing even. “Don’t tease me, angel,” he sighs just as she darts her tongue over his slit. “Fuck, baby.”

He watches her open her mouth, eyes still on him, as she takes him in. Her tongue and lips are soft and warm around him as she swirls her tongue up and over his shaft. She works him over, salivating the more she takes him into her mouth until he hits the back of her throat for the smallest second before she tightens her lips on his shaft and pulls off him with a pop. A string of spit clings to her lips and Ashton is aching to be in her mouth again.

“So pretty like this,” he sighs as she wraps her lips around his head again. This time she sucks him into her mouth as she goes down, slightly gagging as he hits the back of her throat once more before she pulls off again. Ashton threads his fingers in her hair, halting her from moving forward. “Don’t strain yourself for me, okay?”

“I want to make you feel good, sir,” she blinks and Ashton groans. She knows what calling him does that to him.

“You always make me feel good. Don’t hurt yourself, Nadia. Keep going,” he nods.

Nadia smiles excitedly latching her puckered lips over his tip, her hand grasping the base that is now slick with her spit. Her hand and mouth work in tandem, sliding up and down effortlessly slurping as she goes. Ashton steadies his breathing keeping his climax at bay so he can enjoy his Nadia this way. His fingers are still in her hair but he’s giving her full control of the situation.

She takes him all the way to the back of her throat for a third time, her tongue clicking against him. The pulsation has his stomach clenching and he’s so close.

“C’mere,” he says gruffly pulling her off him. He spins her around, so she’s seated at the edge of his desk and hooks her leg over his waist sinking into her swiftly. He fucks into her with quick snaps of his hips, groaning against her neck.

She gasps in time with his thrusts, arms and legs wrapping around him like a vine as he fills her with the utmost pleasure. Ashton bites into her neck, sucking on the warm flesh until she’s screaming his name and they’re coming together. He stills inside her as he releases himself dry and her legs fall limp against the desk.

Ashton hums pulling his mouth from her neck that now has a dark bloom flourishing from his love bite. He cradles her cheeks in his hands, nudges his nose against hers then kisses her with a smile. He pulls out of her slowly, Nadia groaning as he does.

“See? Felt so good,” he sighs, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” she whispers on his lips, legs trembling from the loss of his girth. He tucks himself back into his pants as she leans against him, still coming down from their shared pleasure.

Ashton makes sure she’s stable against the desk before retrieving a towel from the sink along his wall. He wets it then makes his way over to her again to clean between her legs. He kisses her bare shoulder as he does, her hand rests on his shoulder for balance.

“Good thing you didn’t have panties on,” he commends on the corner of her mouth. He tosses the towel on his desk, rubbing his palm on her inner thigh.

“I planned it,” she smiles.

When their dinner date is over Ashton speeds to The King’s Club, his hand on Nadia’s knee as he drives to the destination. He’s second guessing gifting her with this dress because now all eyes will be on her. He holds her hand as they walk past the black velvet ropes and two bouncers that he recognized from his past. They let him in easily and others inside guided him and Nadia to the second floor where Liam is waiting on a white couch. Veronica is next to him looking bored.

To Ashton’s surprise, Calum and Asana are sitting on chairs beside him. Nadia smiles at them tugging a preserved Ashton over to them, his eyes are on Liam who is smiling widely.

“You made it!” he announces rising from his couch. “Last minute I invited Calum and Asana who just finished informing me that you two had dinner plans. I hope I didn’t cut into that.”

“Just a little,” Ashton responds tersely. Nadia squeezes his hand.

“It’s no trouble,” she speaks up.

Liam steps forward grabbing her elbow and kisses her cheek affectionately in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it. Please, take a seat, take a seat. What would you like to drink?”

When the acquired drinks are served, Ashton watches Liam very closely as he interacts with Nadia. He’s somehow pulled her next to him on the couch with his arm thrown casually behind her shoulders. He’s telling her about how he and Ashton bonded over the loss of their fathers and all the wild things they got into.

Ashton watches on high alert, his drink held carelessly in his fingers. He feels smug when Liam notices the love mark on Nadia’s neck. Calum and Asana’s gazes are set on their boss wondering how he is so calm while Liam is so close to Nadia. Ashton assesses the situation with a tight jaw but Nadia’s constant smiles at him lets him know she’s fine.

Calum and Asana are getting restless. Then when Liam laughs loudly at something Nadia said, his hand falls to her knee, Ashton slams his drink on the glass table.

“I think it’s time for us to use the bathroom,” Asana says grabbing Nadia’s hand. “We’ll be back gentleman.” She throws a look between Ashton and Liam tugging Nadia along.

Ashton gives Asana a look of gratitude and appreciates Nadia’s hand cupping his chin as she walks by. Her simple touch eased his irritation slightly. He knows she’ll be safe with Asana but nods his head to the guards that accompanied him here and they followed the girls. Liam watches the small party leave to the VIP bathroom then moves to sit on the table in front of Ashton. Calum leans forward wanting to be a part of the conversation.

“What are we doing here, Liam?” Ashton asks bored, he wants to get Nadia home and away from Liam.

“I know Aleks wants to get Nadia,” Liam starts. “Veronica found that out for me and I think we should let her take him.”

In a light of blinding rage, Ashton launches at Liam, his fist connecting with flesh as the sound of glasses shatter to the table and floor. Shouts of surprise are heard all around and Calum pulls on Ashton’s shoulders yanking him off before he could do worse damage.

“Not with Nadia here,” Calum hisses and that’s what really stops Ashton. Liam rubs his jaw where Ashton hit him, but he doesn’t seem surprised that he was hit.

“Listen to me,” Liam growls standing close to Ashton. Calum tightens his hold on Ashton’s arms. “I have the best trackers with the best equipment. We give Nadia a tracker and follow her to wherever Aleks is.”

“I don’t want her involved in any of this.”

“What have you been telling her all this time? You’ve been lying to her for how long, Ashton? She needs to know the life she’s wrapped up in and that she’s the key to stop it. I’ve seen the reputation you’ve built here and Aleks has been threatening that since Nadia has come into your life. She needs to know.”

“Tanya knew and look what happened,” Ashton blurts before he really thinks of his words.

Liam’s eyes flash and he rushes at Ashton. They’re both scuffling on the floor of the suite while others try to get the men away from each other. Calum shouts them away though because they need to solve their differences in their own way. There’s so much history and discord between the old friends it needs to be hashed out. He won’t let it get too ugly and he hopes Asana is keeping Nadia occupied in the bathroom while the situation plays out.

After a tiresome ten minutes, Liam and Ashton are left panting on the floor. Their suits are ruffled, their hair tousled, and their knuckles bruised but their five years of hurt and anger have finally come forth.

“Nadia is safer not knowing,” Ashton sighs standing to his feet. He holds his hand out to Liam who takes it as help. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Tanya. I wanted to tell you five years ago but you left before I could even try and help you.”

“I know…but my whole world ended that day. I had to get out. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“How is letting her get taken going to keep her safe? You know what Aleks wants to do before he sends her off to this anonymous dealer?”

“She will be safe because Veronica is a double agent. She’s been getting into Aleks’ good graces for over a year.”

Veronica appears beside Liam and hands him a napkin to clean the blood from his face. He takes it graciously.

“Then why don’t you lead him to wherever Aleks is?” Ashton asks her. “Why does Nadia need to be the pawn?”

“Aleks is all about his power trip. He has to believe he’s the one in control right now because whoever this anonymous dealer is, has him scared,” Veronica explains. “He’s on a time crunch and if he doesn’t deliver, he’ll be killed. He won’t hurt her because we won’t give him the time to.”

Ashton glances between Liam and Veronica, Calum calls his name. Ashton turns and Calum waves his fingers signaling Ashton to follow him to the railing.

“Excuse me,” Ashton says then meets Calum.

“How can we trust Veronica? Or Liam, actually,” Calum asks glancing at the pair.

“Liam may have left but he’s never lied to me.”

“It’s been five years, Ashton. You of all people should be questioning if he’s not really working for Aleks. For all we know, he could be.”

“Tanya was the whole reason he walked away from this, and if…if Nadia knew what I do, and she asked me to leave…I wouldn’t question it. I’d leave this all behind.”

“So, you’re seriously considering having her taken, just like that?” Calum is baffled at his friend, his boss, giving in so quickly and releasing Nadia to the lion’s den.

“No, not just like that. I want every detail. I know Liam left, but he came back and is offering to help. Family is family, Cal, you know this.”

Calum eyes Liam and Veronica some more than stares at Ashton for a long time. Nadia is going to have a field day at the state he’s in wondering what the hell happened while she was in the bathroom.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Calum shakes his head surveying the situation.

Then the club cracks into darkness and a deafening silence, screams echo throughout the building and Ashton quickly races blindly to the bathrooms. Any sign of trouble and his mind reverts to Nadia. He stumbles with Calum and Liam trying to find their way blindly. The sound of two gunshots and more screams fill the air then he hears Asana’s voice calling for Nadia. Ashton panics, his heart racing.

The three men skid to a stop as the lights power back on, the club fills with the loud bassline as he looks in front of him. Asana is on the floor with a cut on her cheek, Calum is quick to aid her by standing up. He touches her cut cheek delicately.

“What happened?” Ashton asks. “Where’s Nadia?”

“We were coming back out; I was hit and fell to the floor just as the lights went out. I heard Nadia struggling then two shots…” Asana shakes her head looking in the direction Nadia must have left in.

“Veronica—”

“He knows. He knows I knew his plan and he executed it early,” Veronica gasps. “Liam, I swear he told me in confidence it was supposed to be on her opening night.”

“Where is she?” Ashton demands, his fingers shaking because his Nadia was taken right from under his nose.

***

It took Veronica a few hours to pinpoint exactly where Aleks was which resulted in giving him a few hours head start to run with Nadia. Asana didn’t know if the gunshots meant Nadia was harmed or not and it left Ashton uneasy not knowing. She could be hurt or dying and he’s not with her to help.

Aleks took her to Spain which is where Ashton is now killing the few men keeping guard outside an elaborate mansion. He races inside with Veronica’s voice in his ear telling him where to go.

On his way, he takes out more men until he’s in the elevator descending into the basement. He made sure Asana and Calum stayed outside for visuals and had an ambulance and the police on standby. The basement is dimly lit with shelves along the walls filled with bottles of wine. The guards standing inside didn’t even approach him as he stepped inside, they simply watched him pass by.

“You’re right on him, Ashton,” Veronica says in his ear but Aleks isn’t in sight.

“You’ve always been too trusting, Ashton. I knew it would be your downfall.”

Ashton stops dead in his tracks. Stepping into the light from behind a large wine barrel, is his father, Frank Irwin. He smiles cynically.

“Hello, son.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Aleks?” Ashton is baffled to be looking at his father who left him nearly eight years ago. His hair has thinned and has a few more wrinkles on his face.

“With Nadia, I’m assuming. He was meant to bring her to me like we agreed,” Frank responds moving in front of the barrel. He folds his hands in front of his stomach, Ashton can see the family crest ring is still on his finger.

“It’s you? You’re the anonymous dealer?” Ashton feels like he’s going to throw up from this information.

“Yes, and Nadia is very lovely, isn’t she?”

“Where the hell is she?” Ashton is shouting now advancing to his father. The guards in the room step forward but Frank holds up his hands.

“It’s all right, gentleman. I need to explain to my son here how Nadia is teaching him to be the best boss. Nadia, dear, please come out.”

In horror, Ashton sees Nadia stumble from a closet or room of some sort. In the short amount of time they’ve been apart, her hair has been chopped off to just below her chin. Her beautiful hair that she’s always cherished, and he’s ran his fingers through so many times, is gone. Her face is pale with chapped lips, bruises and cuts are scattered all over her body as the dress he bought her is ripped.

He’s torn between his love and the need to protect her and his anger in realizing she’s been working with his father. His anger wills out and roars inside him.

“Ashton…” she sniffs, tears spilling over her cheeks. “What—”

“Is it true?” he interrupts, voice shaking. “You’ve been working with my father to get to me?”

“What? Ashton, I don’t know who he is—”

“He’s right there!” Ashton shouts pointing to his father. Nadia jumps. “You’ve been fucking with me this whole time under his order, haven’t you? Tell me the truth, Nadia.” He advances towards her, his voice dangerous, and Nadia is visibly shaking at his outburst. He’s never spoken to her like this before.

“Ash…please, believe me. I love you; I would never hurt you and I’ve never met him before in my life.” She’s sobbing, reaching for him but then gasps as a loud bang echoes, and she’s clutching her stomach. Beneath her hands, red blooms in the fabric of her dress.

As if in slow motion, Ashton turns to see Aleks with his gun poised at her from another doorway. Then Liam appears in the elevator and kills Aleks quickly. He’s finally avenged Tanya and his unborn child. Aleks is dead before he hits the ground then the guards jump into action. Ashton and Liam are quick to fend them off, either by injuring them or using their guns until they’re all slumped to the ground.

“Asht—”

Ashton turns around from his most recent casualty in time to see Nadia collapse in a small heap. Frank is laughing behind her.

“She’s right, son. We’ve never met but I arranged for you two to meet. I’ve been a guiding voice in the now late Aleks Rozhkov’s head to egg you on to be a better boss. I thought the continuous chase of her wanting to be taken would flip a switch in you.”

Ashton’s mind is racing with questions and doubts.

“Ash…” Nadia whispers from the floor. Her warm brown eyes are half-lidded as she stares up at him. “Please, I love—”

He knelt beside her immediately because his need to protect her is stronger than his doubts. He helps apply pressure to her wound, and through her blood, he sees the two small condor tattoos on the outside of her wrist, and he’s transported to another time.

“I love this tattoo of yours,” Nadia told him as her fingers daintily traced over the dark ink on his neck. He was in his study at home writing figures down on a pad of paper. “I read that condors mate for life.”

“Is that so?” he asked and pulled her onto his lap. That’s when he noticed the all too familiar looking bandage on her wrist. “What’s this?”

“I got my own birds on me,” she smiled. “I love you, Ashton and I wanted to match this one you have.”

“If I’m a condor bird, then you’re a condor bird, huh?” he grinned taking her hand in his delicately.

“Something like that,” she giggled. “Take it off so you can see.”

Ashton carefully peeled the tape and gauze from her wrist to reveal two birds in flight. One is larger than the other which he’s assuming is meant to be him, and he’s so enamored by the gesture.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he nodded then met her brown eyes. “I love you, so much. You are my soulmate, Nadia.”

He’s kissed those small birds so many times since then and he feels downright idiotic and gullible to believe that she would double cross him. He is too trusting, and he was much too trusting of his father who was never trustworthy in the first place. His trust really is his downfall and it might cost his whole world.

He knows Nadia would never hurt him, and these two birds are proof of that whereas his father has been hurting him his whole life. Nadia’s eyes begin to close and Ashton panics.

“Liam!”

Liam runs to him quickly, sliding on the floor and int the small pool of blood that’s coming from Nadia.

“Shit,” Liam mutters.

“Get her upstairs and to Asana. I’m going to deal with my father.”

Liam rips off the sleeve of his shirt pressing it into the wound. Nadia grunts at the pain trying to keep her eyes open. Ashton touches her cheek the best he can without smearing her own blood on her face.

“I’m sor—”

“Shh, shh, you’re going to be okay. Liam’s going to help and make you better, okay? I’ll see you soon, stay awake for me.”

Liam lifts her carefully into his arms, murmuring a soft “I’ve got you love.” He gives Ashton a look before leaving the basement quickly and then it’s just Ashton and his father.

“How could you do this to me? Is this some kind of sick training session you’ve been instigating for the last eight years?” Ashton asks.

“I’ll admit, I did leave because I would have been stuck in jail well past my dying days. Then I wanted to use this opportunity to build you up to be the best boss there could be. I kept tabs on you, Ashton. You were doing everything right from partying, having women but you were lacking in one major role: being a boss. My leaving was really a chance for you to be great.”

“You left to save yourself. When you were around it was never a family. We protect our own and after you left we finally became a real family,” Ashton says.

“You’ve befriended the authorities and other families that we’ve always held an animosity with. They should all be beneath you.”

“No, we’re equals. I’ve helped with other dangerous mobs in the area and we keep the cities safe instead of stealing from it.”

“You’re abusing your power.”

“I’m utilizing it. There’s a big difference. You’ve hurt a lot of people Frank, me especially and you won’t do that anymore. Your little puppet, Aleks, is now dead and we’ll take down the rest of his Snatchers and whoever else follows him. But your time is over,” Ashton says reaching for his gun.

Frank laughs again.

“Is all of this really because of that girl? You can have hundreds of women, son, that’s the glory of being in this business! You take what you want when you want it.”

“No, that’s not how this business works. It may have been for you, but not me. I won’t leave my men or women behind. I have their back and they have mine.” Ashton raises his gun and clicks it; it’s aimed right at Frank’s head.

“I can keep teaching you to be better, how to be feared. You’ll really kill your own father?”

“I never had a father.”

He pulls the trigger and Ashton turns not even willing to spare his father another glance. He knows he’s dead, he has an excellent kill shot but he couldn’t look at the man who’s hurt him for so many years. He trudges to the elevator, eyes glued to the blood smear on the button as he ascends up. Ashton thought it hurt when he left but the fact that he used Nadia to try and hurt him? Nadia, the one person who loves him so completely and….

Ashton slams his palm against the elevator wall in anger. She’s been loving a liar this whole time because he’s kept so many secrets from her. Her blood on his hands is the last he’ll ever have, it’s because of him she’s hurt when he’s fought so long to prevent that from happening.

His mind is still reeling as he steps outside of the house in the blazing sun. An ambulance is parked near the cars he and the rest travelled in. Police sirens are heard from the distance, but Ashton needs to see Nadia. He finds her in the back of the ambulance with an EMT working on her wound and Asana holding her hand. There’s an oxygen mask over her mouth but she’s more alert, her hand slips from Asana��s and she reaches for him, eyes wide.

Ashton and Asana switch places quickly, he kisses Nadia’s hand fiercely, keeping it pressed to his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Nadia. This is all my fault, but no one will hurt you now. I swear it. It’s time I’ve come clean to you,” he confesses.

She winces as the EMT continues to stitch her up, her lips move beneath the mask, but he doesn’t hear her words.

“What?”

“She already knows, Ash,” Asana says from the doors of the ambulance. Nadia nods at him.

“She knows? How?”

“She figured it out months ago. The Sheriff stopped by when she was home alone once and wanted her to relay a message of thanks to you for taking out the LeBlanc’s. Hotchkiss assumed she knew everything and kept talking, giving her all the information she needed,” Asana continues to explain but he’s watching Nadia as if she’s speaking. Her eyes are soft at her admittance through Asana.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” he asks, and Nadia pulls the mask down slightly so she could speak.

“Because all you’ve ever done is protect me and part of that was not telling me what you do. I was protecting your secret just the same because I love you.” Her voice is soft and quiet.

“And Asana knew this whole time?” he asks bleakly but his smile is of relief.

“She filled in the gaps. I made her swear not to tell,” Nadia whispers.

“I’m sorry I kept these secrets from you.”

“I know, but it’s okay,” she sighs falling deeper into her pillow.

“We are going to transport to the hospital,” the EMT says, “she needs rest.”

Ashton nods then turns to Asana but doesn’t quite know what to say.

“We’ll meet you there and take care of everything else here,” Asana nods. “You take care of her, boss man.”

The doors close and the ambulance rocks as it starts to move. Ashton presses his lips to the birds on Nadia’s wrist, she cups his cheek as tightly as she can. His world fell apart and has been restored by having her in his life.

“I love you so much, angel,” he whispers squeezing her hand. In her eyes she sees the same love reflected back. Their past, present and future are held between their gazes. “You’ve always been the beauty to my madness.”

• • • •

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Volcanic Love (Taywhora) - Holtzmanns

read on ao3 | word count: 6045

“Oh I was aware, alright,” A’whora purses her lips and for a second, Tayce wonders what it would be like to kiss her. “And you know what I saw?”

Oh Christ, she’ll humour her. “What’d you see, then?”

It’s the response A’whora wants, from the way her eyes gleam. “I saw you peeking at me some type of way. A little pout on your face. You jealous, Tayce? Is that it? You want some attention?”

“Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the love on my other Taywhora oneshot, it made me so happy. Enjoy this one, too - fully a product of Taywhora beginning to occupy my thoughts with no signs of leaving. Title from Volcanic Love by The Aces. Also thank you Writ for betaing and bouncing ideas with me, and Pop for catching any North American slang that may have sneaked in, I appreciate you both ❤️

Tayce isn’t a chicken.

It doesn’t matter what Tia’s said in the past. She’s never had the balls to flirt with Veronica, anyway, she’s the real chicken.

Tayce is just respectful, that’s it. She’s not about to go hit on her best mate in the club, not when they’re going back to the same flat, not when A’whora’s eyes right now are on everyone but her.

Doesn’t matter, anyway. Tayce is here for drinks and to forget about her shitty work week.

Even if A’whora’s talking to a leggy brunette by the barstools. And giggling. And tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Christ.

A tap on Tayce’s arm makes her jump, and Lawrence is looking at her a tad impatiently, gesturing towards the waiting bartender on the other side of the table.

“What d’you want, then? Can’t wait all night while you stare at your woman.”

“She’s not my woman,” Tayce mutters under her breath, trying to ignore the warmth in her cheeks. “Two tequila shots, please and thank you.”

Lawrence raises her eyebrows. “Two already? You that ready to end up with your head in the toilet tonight, are you?”

“Oh, shut it.”

Tayce peeks over again while the bartender prepares their drinks and A’whora’s whispering something into the brunette’s ear, leaning in close to her. Tayce grabs the table just a little bit harder.

She knows that Bimini’s organized this night out for them so that Tayce can finally get her shit together. They’re out far too often as it is, despite graduating uni and beginning adult jobs and working normal hours, but regardless, this evening has a purpose. Not that Tayce wants it to. Her liking for A’whora is clear as day to everyone except for A’whora herself, and part of Tayce wants it to stay that way.

Why ruin it, anyway? They’re friends, best friends at that, and A’whora cares for her and knows all her secrets and is the most important person in the world. Or rather, she knows all of Tayce’s secrets except how much she fancies her.

Tayce clinks her shot glass with Lawrence’s whiskey before she tosses it back, the salt and lime on her tongue straight after enough to start a fresh fire through her veins. Maybe it’s not going to happen, tonight, or ever. Tayce is fine with that, especially when she’s on a night out with her mates and Little Mix is blaring in the DJ’s mix overhead.

That’s all she needs for a good night out.

Ellie pushes through the crowd to reach them, a head taller than everyone else. “Did you get my vodka cran?”

“Course,” Lawrence grins, handing the glass to her. “Even though we both know it tastes like horseshit. You gotta branch out your options, El.”

“Just like you ordering a whiskey every night out like the wee old man you are?” Ellie sticks out her tongue without missing a beat, and Tayce snorts when Lawrence lifts a mock offended hand to her chest.

“Excuse me for having some pride for the homeland. Not about to let the English win around here.” Lawrence tosses her drink back, and the slight wince on her face is just about noticeable.

“Looks divine,” Tayce deadpans, craning her neck towards where A’whora had been standing.

Except she’s not there anymore, and she’s not in the crowd of people either, and-

“She’s coming up behind you, dafty,” Lawrence snickers, and Tayce hardly has a second to retort before a set of arms wraps around her waist.

“Did you miss me?” A’whora’s voice takes on the sing song quality that it always does when she’s a few drinks in, and Tayce has to ignore the way her stomach feels like it’s filling with butterflies.

Because it’s not.

“Kept yourself busy over there, did you?” Tayce gets out, trying her best not to let the bitterness peek through in her voice.

A’whora’s allowed to flirt with whoever she wants. It’s fine, really.

“I love meeting new people, that’s all,” A’whora grins, reaching across Tayce to flag the bartender, “unlike you, you antisocial creature.”

“Lies. I have enough friends already,” Tayce mumbles as A’whora pulls back, the scent of her perfume making Tayce’s breath hitch in her throat.

She needs her second shot.

Tayce tosses it back as A’whora takes a sip of her rum and coke, and the burn of the liquor at the back of her throat isn’t enough to distract her from the way that A’whora wraps her lips around the straw, all round and delicate as not to smudge her lip gloss.

“You’d be a lot less grumpy if you moved away from the bar, y’know,” A’whora says in between sips. “Maybe danced around a bit or something. No more sulking on nights out like you normally do.”

“She really does sulk, doesn’t she?” Lawrence pipes up, another whiskey in hand, and Tayce can’t help but roll her eyes at the pointed tone in her voice.

Lawrence wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit her in the head.

“Come on. We’re all gonna go dance. No more sulking.”

A’whora grabs her hand, and Tayce starts to panic for a second because she’s sure she’s a little bit clammy, but Ellie and Lawrence are following them and maybe Tayce’s brain is running just a little bit too fast for her own good. They end up in the thick of the crowd and it’s sweaty, gross, but it also makes Tayce feel a little nostalgic for uni, when they’d do this too often and end up hungover for class the next afternoon.

The Rihanna that the mix fades into is enough to make Tayce forget about the fact that she’s attracted to her best friend, especially when she’s giggling at Ellie’s attempt to embody the song with her lip-syncing. She joins in at the chorus, and fuck it, there’s nothing on par with screaming out the words to Bitch Better Have My Money with her mates, especially with Lawrence’s rather unmelodic tones.

She does love them.

“Let me squeeze in!”

Bimini’s voice is loud enough to be heard over the music as they pushes themselves in between Lawrence and Ellie, their fur coat miraculously still around their shoulders while balancing a drink in each hand.

“Well there you are!” Lawrence exclaims, and the delight on her face is exactly how Tayce feels, all of her friends together and-

Well, almost all of them. There’s Ellie, and Lawrence, and now Bimini, but where has A’whora gone off to again?

Tayce goes up on her tiptoes, craning her neck because she can’t have gotten that far with the crowds, she has to be near…

Oh.

She’s found a girl to dance up on. Blonde, this time. A lovely sight to see.

The tentative excitement that had been rising in Tayce’s chest bursts like a balloon, the sinking feeling spreading along her insides and pulling her back down to the ground because of course A’whora’s found someone to grind up against and shoot sultry eyes at because she’s good at that, at getting what she wants. It’s fine, it is, because Tayce is having fun watching Lawrence try to rap Taki Taki.

She doesn’t care what A’whora’s doing.

Except that when she peeks over again, A’whora’s crouching down while she dances and she’s got her hands on the girl’s thighs and she’s looking up at her with an expression that can only be described as hungry. And it doesn’t matter that there’s an elbow poking at Tayce’s back, or that the mix overhead weaves in a Beyonce song that she’d normally scream the words to, because right now she’s got tunnel vision, unable to pull her eyes away from A’whora despite the fact that she feels like she’s burning up the longer she does. Despite the ripping in Tayce’s chest and the rushing in her ears, it’s fine, because A’whora’s allowed to do whatever she wants. Tayce is her friend and nothing more, and she’s used to it, she is.

But then A’whora slowly rises up from her crouched position and wraps her arms around the girl’s neck, leaning in to kiss her and Tayce needs to get out of the crowd and off the dance floor.

The club bathroom has suspicious stains on the walls but it’s blissfully empty, a fact that Tayce is thankful for because at least she can lose her mind in private. She doesn’t need anyone else witnessing an absolutely pathetic meltdown over her best friend.

Tayce’s lip colour is smudged when she looks at herself in the dust covered mirror, and she halfheartedly pulls out her lipstick from her clutch to fix it. Not that it matters, when she’ll probably grab a taxi home in a few minutes anyway, because her bed and some sleep will at least help her forget the sight of A’whora practically on her knees.

Once she’s fixed her lipstick, Tayce runs a hand through her hair and lets out a sigh. She’s changed her mind. Going out isn’t so nostalgic anymore. It’s shit.

“You done admiring yourself in the mirror yet?”

“Jesus, fucking-”

Tayce whirls around at the voice and of fucking course A’whora is standing there, her own lipstick a bit smudged and looking too smug for her own good and Tayce hates the way her heart starts to beat just a bit faster.

“Thought you were busy macking on some slag and giving everyone a little front row performance,” Tayce mutters, turning back towards the mirror.

“Oh, so you were watching, then?” A’whora’s voice is positively delighted, and Tayce wants to roll her eyes at the audacity.

“I think people in the nosebleeds could see that even if they didn’t want to. A little careless, no? Nearly shagging on the dance floor?”

Tayce isn’t bitter. She’s not. Not over something this stupid.

“What, are you a nun suddenly preaching chastity and pureness and everything that’s holy? Is that it?” A’whora snickers, not looking fazed in the least as she sidles up to Tayce at the counter.

Tayce scoffs, trying to keep herself from glancing at A’whora in the mirror. “It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more aware of your surroundings, that’s all.”

“Oh I was aware, alright,” A’whora purses her lips and for a second, Tayce wonders what it would be like to kiss her. “And you know what I saw?”

Oh Christ, she’ll humour her. “What’d you see, then?”

It’s the response A’whora wants, from the way her eyes gleam. “I saw you peeking at me some type of way. A little pout on your face. You jealous, Tayce? Is that it? You want some attention?”

“Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

It’s a lie, a flat out lie but A’whora doesn’t need to know that, not when it highlights how absolutely pathetic Tayce feels for having A’whora fucking notice. A new low for her. She might as well trod home with her tail between her legs at this point, not that it would save her from any embarrassment.

So, she’s going to have to pretend it never even happened.

“I wasn’t, but you did that enough for me,” A’whora murmurs, and Jesus, she’s coming up behind Tayce and looking at her in the mirror with the sultry eyes that are usually reserved for other girls. “I like seeing you all worked up in a tizzy.”

“I’m not worked up,” Tayce breathes out, trying her best to hold on to the semblance of control she has before it smashes into pieces.

“So you wouldn’t mind then, if I went back on the dance floor and found another girl to kiss? You wouldn’t care if I brought someone home and let her have her way with me? You’ll be just fine with that, huh?”

It’s hard to think straight when A’whora’s hands are raking up her sides, when she’s looking at her all smug through the mirror because she knows she’s going to get what she wants, the way she always does.

Maybe Tayce will be weak willed if she gives in. Maybe A’whora’s going to be smug for weeks after, or maybe she’s going to tease her mercilessly because she’s just joking around with her hands at her waist. Except A’whora’s hand is trailing to her ass, and she’s biting her own lip in the mirror and fuck-

She gives in.

Tayce turns around, face to face with A’whora whose eyes widen for just a second before Tayce captures her lips in a biting kiss. The hitch in A’whora’s breath and the way she surges forward is enough evidence that she isn’t joking around.

Good.

Tayce grabs A’whora’s waist and flips their positions, so that she has her up against the counter. It’s funny - she’s thought about kissing A’whora before, too many times for her own good, but a dingy club bathroom with her heart beating out of her chest is not how she’d envisioned it happening.

A’whora’s needy, pawing at Tayce’s waist to try and bring her closer than she already is. Tayce nudges A’whora’s legs apart with her own thigh, trailing a hand up her chest and past her collarbone and neck until she’s cupping her jaw. She pulls back from the kiss and A’whora’s lips are slightly parted as she catches her breath, her eyes alight but a little bit hazy.

“Is this what you’ve wanted all night, then?”

Tayce has to applaud herself for the semblance of calmness in her voice, not betraying the fact that her insides feel like they’re catching on fire, her heart beating faster and faster the longer she’s touching A’whora.

A’whora looks as dazed as Tayce herself feels, her lipstick smudged and her lips parted while she catches her breath. Tayce watches as her eyes flick down to look at her lips then back up again, and she takes a step back because she knows that A’whora’s about to lean in and kiss her again. The whine A’whora lets out is more than gratifying.

“You could have just asked, y’know. Dunno why you’ve got to go and make it so complicated for the both of us,” Tayce murmurs, licking her own lips as she steps in closer again.

It’s as if there’s a string between them that’s been pulled taut all night and on the verge of snapping, except now, Tayce is the one controlling it. And after how she’s been on edge all evening, it’s a welcome reprieve, a familiar feeling that she’s been craving for so long.

“I…” A’whora’s words trail off when Tayce leans forward, pressing a kiss to her neck, and then another that slightly nips at her skin, and it’s all Tayce can do to keep herself from smirking against the corner of her jaw.

Because, of all people, she’s the one having this effect on A’whora. A’whora, who could absolutely be classified as a certified babe magnet. A’whora, who can land any girl that she bloody wants. A’whora, who has been on Tayce’s mind for far too long whenever she slips her hand between her legs in the shower. A’whora, who up until now Tayce has had to push down any semblance of feelings for.

But now Tayce has her in her grasp and it’s verging on the edge of being too much, sending her brain into overdrive if she focuses on it for too long.

So instead, Tayce brings her attention back to A’whora, who gasps when her lips focus on the juncture between her neck and collarbone. There’s no way A’whora’s neck isn’t going to be looking ridiculous after this, between Tayce’s lipstick and the fact that she’s being rather liberal with how much she’s tugging at A’whora’s skin, but A’whora’s hands are fisting in her hair and it’s becoming clear that she’s the type to like it like this.

She brings a hand up to grab one of A’whora’s tits, her thumb tracing over her nipple that’s already beginning to harden through the dress fabric because of course A’whora’s not wearing a bra, cheeky slag she is. The whine that A’whora lets out when Tayce pulls her face back is enough to make her want to squeeze her own legs together but she steels herself, putting on the most confident face she can muster without falling apart.

“More,” A’whora gets out in between sharp breaths for air, and part of Tayce wishes that she could frame this sight, keep it in her mind forever.

Instead, she presses her lips together. “I’m not about to fuck you in the loo, Rory. What sort of slag do you take me for?”

A’whora’s brows press together adorably, and Tayce has to resist the urge to smooth them out for her. “But-”

“Let’s go home.”

They end up in A’whora’s room solely because of the shorter distance from the front door, as compared to Tayce’s at the end of the hallway. Tayce kicks the door closed behind them, watching as A’whora flops herself down on the bed, resting her weight on her elbows.

It’s strange - Tayce has been in A’whora’s room thousands of times before, like when they do their makeup together or watch Netflix while passing a spliff back and forth. But right now, the air in the room feels different, a breeze that makes her hair want to stand on end. Or maybe that’s the effect from the look that A’whora’s shooting her from the bed.

She takes her time as she walks over to the mattress, kicking off her heels once she reaches her. There’s a hair elastic on A’whora’s bedside table and Tayce grabs it, tying her hair into a bun and out of her face before she climbs up on the bed herself, straddling A’whora’s lap in a swift movement.

A’whora’s so pretty like this. Not that she isn’t always, when she’s laughing and her eyes scrunch or when she’s tearing up because of a cute kitten video on Instagram. But there’s something about this sight, when A’whora has her hair spread out on the sheets, her chest rising and falling almost erratically, that Tayce wants to absolutely drink up.

She channels her bravado from the club bathroom as she tucks a lock of A’whora’s hair behind her ear, watching as her eyes flutter. “You getting sleepy on me?”

“Better stop boring me, then,” A’whora squeaks out, and Tayce knows, knows that it’s a bluff, but a small part voice in her brain yells at her to accept it as a challenge.

A’whora wants more? She’ll get more.

Tayce grabs at A’whora’s hipbone and flips her over so that she’s on her stomach, revelling in the gasp that A’whora lets out when her face buries itself in her arms on the mattress. She runs a hand up A’whora’s thigh, over the curve of her ass and can feel a satisfaction blooming in her chest when A’whora pushes back into her touch.

“So impatient, for someone who was a little brat and teasing me all night.”

A’whora lifts her face out of her arms, the pout on her lips so quintessentially her. “Tayce, c’mon.”

“Yeah? You think you deserve it?”

Tayce pushes the edge of A’whora’s dress up, exposing more and more of her thighs and tracing along the soft skin. By the time the skirt is bunched up at her hips and the lace of her thong is exposed, Tayce feels like her mind is going into overdrive. She wants nothing more than to speed up the process and just pull the lace down and make A’whora come as fast as possible, but she forces herself to slow down, enjoy the process. Relish in it.

She tugs upwards on A’whora’s hips until A’whora understands the hint and gets up so that she’s resting on her elbows and knees, ass up in the air. Tayce taps the outside of A’whora’s thigh and she parts her legs, and part of Tayce wonders how she’s still upright and breathing herself.

“Good girl,” Tayce murmurs, because there’s really no wrong time to test out the waters and see what makes A’whora tick.

From the little noise A’whora lets out from the back of her throat, it seems like Tayce is on the right track.

Tayce can’t help herself from cupping A’whora’s ass with her hands, kneading the flesh. “You really do have a nice behind, y’know that?”

“Behind? What are you, my eighty year old nan?” A’whora snickers, and despite herself, Tayce lets out a huff.

“Why am I even about to fuck you?”

“Because you’re drawn in by my ass-ets,” A’whora says, a grin on her face as she wiggles her bum slightly, and Tayce has to roll her eyes.

Despite the idiocy, it’s still hot. Tayce is definitely in too deep. She may as well dial for help now.

Her nails are short but she drags them lightly on A’whora’s skin, watching the goosebumps that rise on the surface. She follows the lace of A’whora’s thong with one hand, reaching between her legs, and shit, A’whora’s already damp through the fabric.

Not that Tayce isn’t herself, but that’s another story.

She anchors her other hand on A’whora’s hip as she traces her fingers along the lace, and she can feel a smile spreading on her face when A’whora lets out a little whine. Part of Tayce’s brain feels like it’s still in disbelief, waiting for her to wake up from a particularly saucy dream in which she ends up in her flatmate’s bed with said flatmate a mess beneath her with the sheets bunched up between her fingers. All the pining and the ‘sexual tension,’ in Lawrence’s words, coming to a head feels surreal, almost on par with seeing a dragon in their backyard or with Ellie actually being shorter than someone for once.

But she’s here, and A’whora’s here and fidgeting in the sheets and Tayce needs to stop getting bizarrely tender about hooking up with her flatmate.

It’s easier to push A’whora’s knickers to the side rather than to pull them off entirely, especially when she’s already shaky on her knees. Tayce traces along A’whora’s folds, the wetness that coats the pads of her fingers making her feel dizzy, and A’whora pushes back against her touch, a moan in the back of her throat.

“What, are you waiting for someone to make a speech or something? C’mon.”

Tayce has to grin at the gumption. A’whora’s never been one to hold back what she’s thinking. “See, I would, but you didn’t say please.”

“Fucking bitch,” A’whora groans, dropping her face back into her hands, and Tayce takes the opportunity to still two of her fingers near A’whora’s entrance, not quite pushing in the way she wants.

“Still didn’t hear a please, though.”

“Ugh. Please. You absolute hound,” A’whora grumbles, but her words cut off in a gasp when Tayce decides to give in, pushing in a finger, then another when A’whora spreads her legs apart just a little more.

A’whora’s one of the more responsive girls she’s ever had sex with, already trying to rock back against her when Tayce curls her fingers. It makes Tayce want to give her more, so as much as her wrist is complaining when she maneuvers her position so that she can circle around her clit with her thumb, she keeps at it. Speeds up when A’whora starts to drip down onto her palm.

“God, I…” A’whora gasps, and Tayce can feel the way she’s squeezing around her fingers and it’s hot, A’whora’s fucking hot and so close to the edge and there’s no way Tayce is going to stop now for anything.

Tayce leans down and presses a kiss to A’whora’s shoulder blade, the motions of her hand unforgiving as she keeps up her pace without slowing, and the contrast between the two is almost striking.

“You close, baby?”

She can see the way A’whora’s back muscles are tensing, the way her face drops into her hands as her legs get more unsteady and she drinks it all in, committing it to memory because fuck, she’s had a lot to drink tonight but there’s no way she’s gonna forget a second of this. Not when A’whora is the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.

A’whora can’t kill Tayce for leaving marks on her back if she can’t see them - it’s flawless logic, really. But it’s enough reason for Tayce to pay attention to the ripple of A’whora’s muscles, the heat emanating from her skin when she kisses and nips because she can’t help herself, A’whora’s back a canvas that isn’t going to stay empty for too long.

Tayce doesn’t dare change her pace, not when A’whora’s squeezing around her and her muscles are tensing and her breaths are coming in little gasps that are somehow endearing. She ignores the burning in her forearm, the way she’s worked up a sweat of her own because A’whora’s eyes are squeezed shut, and the noise in the back of her throat cuts off on a raggedy gasp for breath.

“Fuck, ah, shit-”

A’whora’s whimpering, her face buried in her arms and her legs squeezing Tayce’s hand in a death grip as her knees finally give out in a heap on the mattress. Tayce wipes her fingers on the back of A’whora’s still shaking thighs as she pulls her hand back, pressing a kiss to her hipbone before she turns her onto her back as carefully as she can.

There’s something to be said for a post-orgasm A’whora, from how her chest is rising and falling to the way she has an almost dopey smile on her face that she covers with the back of her hand.

“C’mere,” A’whora mumbles, holding out a hand with grabby motions and Tayce snorts, crossing her arms.

“Postcoital A’whora is a cuddler. Who knew?”

“M’not cuddling,” A’whora pouts, reaching for Tayce’s arm. “I wanna get on top now.”

Tayce yelps when A’whora tugs on her elbow, bracing her hands against the mattress and catching herself on top of her just in time. “You, a top? That’s a thought.”

“Hey!” A’whora whines, wiggling underneath her. “It’s my turn.”

Tayce has to hold back a laugh. “You sound like a child waiting for their go on the swings.”

But then A’whora pushes on Tayce’s hipbone and nudges her leg against her inner thigh and Tayce isn’t sure, really, how A’whora ends up on top of her, though the grin on her face is adorably triumphant.

“Ha! See, I’m strong,” A’whora preens, tossing her hair over her shoulder as her thighs bracket Tayce’s hips and as much as Tayce wants to roll her eyes, she has to admit the sight is kind of hot.

Especially when A’whora licks her lips as her gaze drags down Tayce’s body, a lioness who’s finally gotten her prey. A lioness with highlighter on her cheekbones and a slinky dress that’s still bunched up at her hips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, y’know that?” A’whora whispers the words centimeters away from Tayce’s ear, raking a hand through her hair and she can feel the way it makes goosebumps rise on her skin.

Not that Tayce is one to let her facade drop so easily. “Oh, yeah? Why’re you always out there kissing other girls, then?”

She still hasn’t forgotten the sight of A’whora grinding up on some girl on the dance floor. Or how badly she wanted it to be her.

A’whora blinks at her. “How else was I supposed to go and get your attention? It worked, didn’t it?”

“You’re a cheeky little hound, aren’t you?” Tayce snorts, shaking her head against the sheets.

Christ.

Really, A’whora’s not wrong. It had certainly gotten her attention, alright, made her stomach turn and need to leave the dance floor before she had a full on crisis while the beat dropped.

A’whora tsks, a smug smile alighting her features. “And yet, you still have those puppy dog eyes for me.”

“I do not-”

Tayce’s half hearted protest is cut off when A’whora presses her lips to hers, licking into her mouth. It’s bullshit and she knows it, A’whora does too, but it doesn’t matter, not when A’whora’s grinding her hips down onto her and moving her kisses to her jaw and her neck.

A’whora’s not one to waste any time, dragging her nails past Tayce’s collarbone and chest and soothing her path with kisses before she pushes Tayce’s dress straps off of her shoulders, beckoning her forward to pull on her zipper. Tayce follows without question, lifting her hips so that A’whora can tug the dress from underneath and off her legs.

Being flatmates means that they’ve seen each other in various states of undress before - when they’re trying on clothes they’ve just bought, when they’re lounging around the flat in their bras when it’s too bloody hot that one month during that one month a year London becomes a fucking sauna. But the purposeful nature with which A’whora traces a hand up Tayce’s inner thigh, her eyes lingering on the lace on her hips and the straps along her ribs, feels worlds away from those times. Tayce has to resist the urge to cross her arms, pull the sheets up on herself, because the way A’whora’s eyes are widened and her mouth is slightly parted makes no real sense when her brain tries to compute it.

A’whora pushes down on Tayce’s shoulder until she’s laying back against the cushions and winks before she resumes her path downwards, pressing biting kisses along her ribs and above her hip bone that make Tayce draw a breath in between her teeth. A’whora’s touch is delicate when she tugs on the lace sitting in the crease of Tayce’s thigh, pulling the thong down her legs and throwing it on the ground to follow the dress.

“My turn,” A’whora grins as she pushes Tayce’s legs apart, and Tayce feels like she’s going to pass out before A’whora’s even gone and done anything.

A’whora takes her time, trailing a path with her lips past Tayce’s calves, her knees, up her inner thighs, in the crease by her hip bone. Tayce tugs on her hair, a cue to speed up her pace but A’whora falters for only a second, a flutter of her eyes before looking up at Tayce, shaking her head.

“No rushing.”

“Mmh-”

Tayce’s protest cuts off when A’whora drags her tongue up her slit ever so slowly, the contact not enough in the least but also the first she’s gotten so far, which makes it feel almost like a welcome reprieve. A’whora pushes her thighs further apart, looking up with her with eyes that draw her in as her tongue traces a path around her clit, not quite giving her the relief she needs.

“Don’t tease,” Tayce gasps, her hands involuntarily tightening their grip in A’whora’s hair, and A’whora lets out a moan into her cunt in response which Tayce has to file away as the hottest fucking thing she’s ever heard.

A’whora trades her earlier motions for circling Tayce’s clit, and Tayce doesn’t even care at this point if the rest of their flatmates are home and can hear them, because A’whora’s good. Better than good. She’s going to get Tayce there embarrassingly fast and Tayce is sure that she’ll brag about it later, but it doesn’t even matter at this point, not when Tayce’s brain is this hazy and she can feel her own breaths becoming more and more shallow.

There are half moon indents where A’whora’s nails are digging into Tayce’s thighs as her movements speed up, and Tayce can feel the familiar sensation building in her core and god, she’s so fucking weak for A’whora. She looks so hot like this, her face between Tayce’s thighs and Tayce feels like she could come from the sight in front of her alone.

But Tayce instead pulls oxygen from around the room into her lungs, forcing herself to breathe as her hips begin to lift themselves from the mattress and she’s so damn close to tipping over the edge. “Fucking hell, just like that.”

A’whora’s pace is steady as she looks up at her, a glint in her eyes that doesn’t waver when Tayce’s hands wind into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Something about the confidence in A’whora’s gaze, the way she’s unwavering with her movements is enough to finally push Tayce over the edge and fuck, the sensations are all too much but also what she’s been craving, waiting for the entire evening, and it’s perfect.

A’whora’s committed, her tongue still making circles around her clit, albeit slower but it’s enough to make Tayce’s ribcage rise and fall all jaggedly, sucking in air that can’t fill her lungs soon enough. She pushes A’whora’s face away from between her legs when it becomes too much, hiding a mewl behind her palm but it doesn’t even matter, not when A’whora’s wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and looking like she’s a cat who’s just gotten the cream.

“Shut up,” Tayce mutters, but there’s no malice behind it, not when A’whora’s smile reaches her eyes and Tayce can’t help but reach out, stroke her cheek with her thumb.

A’whora leans into her touch and Tayce’s heart glows in her chest, lighting up hopes that maybe, just maybe, this doesn’t have to be a one off. Tayce isn’t that smashed anymore and A’whora doesn’t look like it either, but it doesn’t feel awkward for Tayce to scoot down on the bed, avoiding the wet patch to lay down beside A’whora when she pats the sheets with her palm.

A’whora’s grinning that cheeky smile that she does when she’s doing a bit and laughing at her own jokes, an expression that Tayce has seen far too often. “Why don’t you just stay the night, yeah? The commute back to yours would take too long. It’s not safe at this hour, really.”

“As if my room isn’t just down the hall.”

A’whora shrugs as she drapes an arm across Tayce’s midsection, shuffling to get closer to her. “See? Much too far. May as well stay here at this point.”

“Very compelling argument, I have to say,” Tayce can’t help but smile, and putting her arms around A’whora’s waist when she snuggles into her feels so normal, so them.

Yeah, A’whora’s half on her lap for movie nights anyway because they’re the only two who enjoy strawberry laces as a snack and they have to share the packet but now they’re snuggling, actually snuggling and Tayce doesn’t feel like running for the hills. Maybe because it’s A’whora, her best friend who knows when she’s annoyed and trying to hide it, the one who knows her coffee order down to the almond milk.

Tayce presses a kiss to the top of A’whora’s head because she can, and the contented sigh that A’whora lets out is enough to bloom the seeds of longing in her chest into strings of ivy that don’t ever want to let her go. She can’t, not anymore, not when she’s seen A’whora come apart but also sees A’whora now, nearly falling asleep on her chest with eyes that she can barely keep open.

She’s so beautiful.

And Tayce is so, absolutely fucked.

Maybe she’ll work out how to properly win A’whora over in the morning, and keep this from being something as stupid as a one night stand because Tayce doesn’t want that, or feel like she can handle the two of them only having something so fleeting. She needs A’whora around as more than just a best friend or a flatmate that always brings home fresh flowers for the kitchen table. The reminder is almost calming, in a way, running through her veins and a part of her after years of attempting to push the thoughts out of view.

Tayce can’t continue to bury the feelings in the farthest corners of her mind anymore, not with A’whora in her arms like this and having it actually mean something. No more pining. She’s going to promise herself.

Maybe she can ask A’whora out properly when they wake up, if she has the guts for it. That is, after asking for a round two first.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #uk2 #smut #lesbian au #holtzmanns

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apparently-artless · 3 years

Text

The Other Way Around - 3rd Chapter

A Daiya no Ace Fanfic

Warning: Not Beta Read, English Grammar Nazi be warned! ( `ε´ )

Summary:

Toujou have 'girl problems'. Kanemaru couldn't care less. Sawamura will come to the rescue.

Note: Different settings and timelines for each character. Check out source below for AO3 version.

Characters: Sawamura Eijun, Toujou Hideaki, Kanemaru Shinji, Furuya Satoru, Kominato Haruichi, Miyuki Kazuya, Kuramochi Youichi, Takigawa Chris Yuu, Yuuki Tetsuya, Isashiki Jun, Kominato Ryousuke

Chapter 3: Toujou Hideaki

Seidou baseball players were busy having their dinner. Some of the first years were gathered together in one table together with some first-string members. Sawamura, as he ate his food with gusto, couldn’t help but noticed that it’s Toujou’s third time letting out a deep sigh as he slowly ate his meal.

“Oi, Toujou. You keep on sighing. That’s not good, you know? Are you not feeling well? Is the food not to your liking?” Sawamura asked with curiosity and concern.

“Tch. Just let him be. He’s sulking because apparently, three girls from our batch kept on pestering him to be his girlfriend,” Kanemaru responded on his best friend’s behalf.

“Hmm? Is it just me or I can feel like you’re just envious of Toujou-kun’s situation? Kanemaru-kun, you’re not popular with girls, are you?” Ryousuke interjected upon hearing the freshmen’s seemingly interesting conversation.

“Wha – “

Haruichi blurted out “Aniki!” as he tried to stop his older brother from publicly shaming Kanemaru any further. He panicked even more as he heard the rest of the first-string members laughing at Ryousuke’s comment while he glanced from the red-faced Kanemaru to the sniggering members eating at their table.

“I see. That must have been tiring. If that’s the case, why don’t you just reject them?” Sawamura went on not giving a care to the other portion of the conversation – which was Kanemaru’s lack of popularity with girls.

“I already told them I have no time for a relationship right now due to club activities. But they just kept on bothering me,” Toujou answered with another deep sigh.

“You said it right! You’re not even part of first-string yet, do you think this is the time to get a girlfriend, huh??” bellowed Isashiki as he sat beside Toujou and placed his arm on the boy’s shoulder threateningly.

“Oya. Here’s another guy who’s unpopular with girls. Is that advice as a senpai, or is it your pathetic self, screaming jealousy? That’s not good, Jun,” Ryousuke commented.

“Shut up, Ryou! These first years should know better not to get ahead of their upperclassmen in getting a girlfriend! They're ten years early for that! Go bat a thousand swings every day first!” Isashiki added.

Toujou just smiled awkwardly at Isashiki and went on with his dinner.

“How about you, Sawamura? Aren’t you quite close with girls in your class? Is there someone in your class who asked you out?” Toujou decided to continue with the conversation. “Nope. I’m pretty sure all of my girl classmates just see me as a friend,” Sawamura answered nonchalantly.

“Besides, no one would want this obnoxious idiot to be their boyfriend. They’ll be deaf by the time they broke up,” Miyuki interrupted.

“Miyuki Kazuya! Who are you calling an idiot? And why are you even here dining with us?? Go away!”

“Then, how about you, Miyuki-senpai? Aren’t you popular with girls too?” Toujou asked without hesitation, not even caring about the bickering that started between the two.

And then, Sawamura and Miyuki paused as they looked at Toujou with wide eyes. The rest of the team was looking at Miyuki with menacing eyes.

Careful what you say, pretty boy catcher.

But before Miyuki could reply, Sawamura laughed as if what Toujou said was the best joke of the night.

“This?” Sawamura started while breathing heavily due to his unending laughter as he pointed rudely at the catcher. “This guy? This super evil and mean guy?? Popular with girls?? I bet they don’t know his true personality then! Oh my, those poor girls!”

Sawamura continued with his laughing and the menacing look that the other members were giving Miyuki transitioned to giggles. The boy with the glasses decided to break his silence.

To start, Miyuki let out a tiny cough. “Toujou-kun, leaving this idiot’s comments aside, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Eh? But I’ve heard Kuramochi-senpai complaining more than once that you received confessions from girls,” Toujou replied hesitantly.

“Huh? Kuramochi said that? When?” Miyuki reacted as he glared in Kuramochi’s direction.

“I can’t remember exactly when but he mentioned it during practice, I think.”

“During practice??”

“Yes, around three different times.”

“Three times??”

This time, it was Isashiki who reacted instead of Miyuki. Kuramochi just guffawed at the background, uncaring, like he’s not involved at all with the conversation.

“Miyuki!!! You jerk!!! You traitor!!!” Isashiki shouted as Toujou and Kanemaru tried to stop him from hitting the poor catcher.

“I’m sorry, Toujou. But I cannot give you any advice. I just tell them I don’t have time for relationships and they back off. You’ll have to deal with it another way,” Miyuki replied hoping this conversation will end with his body parts complete and unharmed.

“Ja!” Sawamura let out a loud voice as if to attract all the team members to listen to him. “Why don’t you ask a girl from your class to pretend to be your girlfriend instead? Look for someone who can agree with your situation so those girls you’ve mentioned will stop troubling you. It’s a brilliant idea if I say so myself. It’s like straight out from a shoujo manga! And then, the two of you will actually get together! And your true love story will begin! Hahahaha!”

The team turned silent, not sure what to make of what Sawamura had just blurted out.

“Hmm. A stupid suggestion from a stupid person. You’re getting there, Sawamura,” Ryousuke commented.

“Hyahaha! Ryou-san, that’s so mean!”

“Onii-san?? But that’s a good idea, no?”

“Well, if it’s got to the point that it’s affecting your grades and your performance during club activities, you can rely on us, Toujou,” Yuuki added with a smile. “We can even try to come up with a plan while playing Shogi.”

“T-Thank you, Yuuki-senpai,” Toujou replied at the captain awkwardly.

The next day was no different. The girls decided to ambush Toujou as soon as he went out of the men’s restroom. His initial plan was this – he’ll have lunch together with Kanemaru, Sawamura, Haruichi, and Furuya and make it look like they're having a club meeting during the break so they won’t get in the way. Unluckily, the girls got to Toujou first before he could meet up with the rest of the group.

Toujou’s head was starting to throb at listening at the girls’ bickering. No matter what he said, it seemed none of them would back down. He wanted to get out of this stupid situation. Some of the students are even looking suspiciously in their way.

He was trying his best to come up with another way to dismiss the girls and get them to back down but nothing came to mind. The best he could do was remember what Sawamura suggested, but there’s a flaw in that. He’s yet to find a girl who would agree with his condition. It has to be a girl who doesn’t have a boyfriend and someone who wouldn’t mind pretending to be in a relationship with him. For now, Toujou thought of telling the girls that he already had someone he likes and that he planned to ask her out. The name – well, it has to be anonymous for now.

“Uhm,” Toujou started as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry to say this but, there’s already someone I like and I’m planning to ask that person out. As such, I can’t go out with any of you.”

The three girls stopped their fighting as they looked intently at Toujou, trying to determine if what the boy had said was a lie.

“Who’s the girl then?”

“What’s her name?”

“What class is she in?” “Eh? Uhm. You see…” Toujou replied while moving backward, unable to come up with answers to the girls’ questions.

“The name…”

“The name?” said the three girls in unison. “The name is…” Toujou replied once more as he moved another step backward, his back almost touching the window.

Then suddenly, his savior had arrived.

“Toujou! There you are! I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been anyway?”

“Sawamura?” Toujou whispered upon recognizing the boy looking for him.

“Sawamura??” the girls said in unison as they looked in the direction Toujou was looking at.

Then the idea struck Toujou like lightning. They just need to know that he’s in a relationship. It doesn’t have to be a girl!

Toujou went past the three girls and walked towards Sawamura.

Sawamura, I know you’re not good at reading the atmosphere. But please! Just this once! Remember what you said last night! I don’t have anyone else but you!

Sawamura stopped as soon as Toujou stood just a foot away from him. He then smiled at his friend.

“What’s stopping you? Lunch will be over in no time, Let’s go,” Sawamura said as he grabbed Toujou’s left wrist.

But Toujou did not move from where he’s standing. Instead, he just gazed at Sawamura with a serious look.

“What? You need to go to the restroom first?” the southpaw pitcher asked.

“Sawamura, there’s something important I need to tell you first.”

“O-Okay. I’ll listen to what you have to say,” Sawamura replied with a serious tone, his usual loud voice gone and the three girls right in front of him didn’t seem to matter. He then released Toujou’s hand.

“Sawamura, I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. Can you please go out with me?” Toujou asked with determination, his internal self, screaming at the back of his head.

Sawamura was taken aback by Toujou’s sudden confession. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and then pondered some more.

Sawamura, please get a grip of what I’m trying to do here!!

And then suddenly, a miraculous thing happened! Sawamura remembered what he told Toujou last night.

“O-Oh. I see,” Sawamura replied, astounded.

So, it has come to this, Toujou.

Sawamura!! Finally!!

Are you sure you’re fine with me? I’m a guy, you know??

I know, but I don’t seem to have a choice right now, do I??

Got it, Toujou, my friend! Leave everything to me!!

Their internal dialogue went on in less than fifteen seconds when Sawamura spoke once again.

“I like you too, Toujou. For a very long time now,” Sawamura smiled at him like the sun. “I’ll go out with you.”

Toujou, was of course, slightly taken aback by Sawamura’s words. He didn’t take the guy to be a good actor after all. A sudden warmth crept up Toujou’s face as he blushed unconsciously towards the boy. And when the girls noticed Toujou’s reaction, they were surprised but were convinced that the two boys who confessed to each other really liked each other.

Noticing the girls right in front of them for the first time, Sawamura looked at them with a smile too.

“I’m sorry. I was too focused on Toujou that I did not notice you there for a second,” Sawamura spoke, his jolly old self had returned as he scratched the back of his head.

He paused for a second, dropped his right hand, went for Toujou’s left hand, and pulled him closer towards him. Toujou, unprepared for Sawamura’s sudden action, slightly lost his balance as his body partially collided at Sawamura’s, his head perfectly placed in between the southpaw’s jaw and his chest.

“I’m sorry girls, but this guy here is mine. I would appreciate it if you could just back off,” Sawamura said in a deep voice, his warmth emanating and prickling Toujou’s skin.

Toujou, upon hearing Sawamura’s voice filled with sincerity, not the usual voice he’s used to hearing when they’re playing at the field, made him blush some more. The three girls were as surprised as well, their cheeks as pink as peach as they silently nod towards Sawamura.

“Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, Toujou and I will be taking our lunch.”

Toujou automatically parted with Sawamura once he heard his final words. The boy placed his right arm on his left shoulder as they walked their way to the rooftop. Upon noticing that none of the girls followed, Sawamura decided to remove his hands from Toujou.

“You were so cool back there,” Toujou commented while scratching his cheek, a faint flush remained.

“Aren’t I?? It’s like straight out of a shoujo manga! Man! I’ve always wanted to say one of those cool lines being said by the male protagonists! I nailed it!” Sawamura beamed in response as he laughed, feeling proud of himself.

Toujou laughed at him as well. Little did they know, the three girls were still looking in their direction. But since they were unable to hear their conversation, they only appeared as two boyfriends having a happy conversation in their eyes.

“Should we still join them?” Haruichi asked Kanemaru.

Apparently, Haruichi, Kanemaru, and Furuya had witnessed Toujou and Sawamura’s ‘confession’ as well as they were also looking for Toujou at that time.

“Nope. Let’s not do that. I got the feeling we’ll ruin Toujou’s plan,” Kanemaru replied with a sigh as they observed the two disappeared in the corridor.

Furuya, who seemed uninterested in what happened, said nothing as he was more focused on the polar bear-shaped onigiri for his lunch.

“But is that okay with you?” Toujou asked as soon as they reached the rooftop. “What if those girls spread rumors that the two of us are going out?”

“What are you talking about, Toujou? Wasn’t it the plan to begin with??” Sawamura asked Toujou with dismay.

“Well, you see. I’m a guy. So I thought maybe, you wouldn’t want to be rumored to be going out with someone of the same sex.”

“Don’t mind the small things, Toujou!” Sawamura spoke in his usual tone as he tapped the other boy’s shoulder. “If you keep on thinking even about the small things, you’ll have grey hair at a very young age! Besides, my grandpa told me that you must help out a friend who is in need!”

"Thank you, you really saved me back there," Toujou added.

"But of course!"

Sawamura just laughed while Toujou smiled at him. He suddenly realized that that’s a very Sawamura-like thing to say.

“Eh? Where’s Harucchi and the others?”

“Oh, I just got a message from Kanemaru saying we can eat all by ourselves. They got impatient and ate without us.”

“Those guys! Geez!”

Two days after the incident, a practice game ensued between the first-string and second-string members. It was a peaceful game except for Sawamura’s usual obnoxious comments and a bit of complaint as he was selected by the coach to be the starting pitcher for the second-string members.

It was peaceful indeed. And yet, there is something, more like, some people whom the players can’t help but notice at the corners of their eyes. Eventually, the game reached its conclusion with the first-string team as the winner. Some of the players removed themselves from the field and went on with their stretching. Most of the first-string members, however, gathered at the bullpen.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll bite! Since none of you have the balls to say something! I’ll be the one to say something first!” Isashiki bellowed, slightly irritated at the fact that all the members were miraculously avoiding the elephant near the field. “Can somebody tell me why fangirls are cheering for Toujou and that idiot?? I mean, Toujou, I can sort of understand! But Sawamura?? Is the world ending??”

Some members laughed slightly and some members decided to keep quiet. Kanemaru and Haruichi, who happened to know the reason, were looking at each other, not quite sure what to do with the situation. Because apparently, Toujou decided to mingle with the quiet members as if it’s not his problem. And Sawamura – well, Sawamura is more concerned about the fact that he played as part of second-string instead of first-string for this practice game.

Finally, the silence was broken by no other than Chris.

“That group of girls is Sawamura and Toujou’s supporter. Apparently, Toujou asked Sawamura out and that Sawamura agreed,” Chris replied as he looked at his mini notebook.

The other members, especially the second-string members, couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of information Chris’ notebook contained.

“They’re here to support their relationship…” Chris added. “…is what I’ve heard.”

“Eh???” some of the members shouted in response.

Toujou, together with Kanemaru and Haruichi, was surprised that the catcher knows that kind of information.

“W-We’re really not going out,” Toujou interjected. “We’re just fake-dating. You know that last time we talked about it at the cafeteria. Sawamura just happened to be there when those girls were pestering me and then he kinda went on with the flow?”

The other members keenly listened to the boy’s explanation. Sawamura, who was busy stretching, noticed the other member’s sudden shouts so he decided to join in on the conversation.

“What’s happening here? Aren’t we supposed to do our stretching right after the game?” Sawamura asked upon noticing the surprise on the members’ faces.

“Sawamura! I can’t believe you’ve done it! You’re a true friend! A true man among men! My impression of you improved a little bit!” Isashiki commented as he slapped the back of the southpaw with his every statement. “Spitz-senpai! That’s rude! And stop slapping my back, it hurts!”

Miyuki and Kuramochi were, of course, sniggering in the background.

The baseball idiots, too busy congratulating their ‘new couple’ did not notice that the three girls were trying to go near Sawamura and Toujou who were pushed together so they can laugh at them some more as they noticed how Toujou’s face turned bright red.

“Are you here to speak to Sawamura and Toujou?” Yuuki, another oblivious idiot, asked the girls without hesitation.

The three girls just nod, but with great anticipation. Toujou, who was asked by another member to assist with stretching, was unable to indulge their request. As such, Sawamura was the only one who decided to talk with the girls.

“Oh, hi there!” Sawamura greeted the girls happily.

“Uhm, hi. It’s a bit frustrating that your team did not win but you and Toujou did great during the game!” one of the girls spoke.

“Ah, haha. Thanks. I’ll make sure to lead the team to victory next time!”

“W-we have a question for you if you don’t mind,” the second girl asked.

“Sure, fire away!”

“W-w-w-which one of you is the bottom???” the girl asked, sort of shouted in a high-pitched note.

There was a silent pause. The boys seem to get the meaning behind the girl’s question, except for one oblivious, Sawamura Eijun. Truthfully, almost all of them had seen that coming. Nothing surprising, really. Wait, scratch almost, all of them knows Sawamura had no idea whatsoever of what the girl was talking about.

“Bottom? Oh! Yes, I’m at the bottom and Toujou is at the top!”

The other members, who were pretending like they're busy with their stretching, but were actually listening to the conversation, snorted at Sawamura’s reply. Sawamura, the world’s most adorable oblivious Seidou southpaw pitcher, had misunderstood the girl’s sensitive inquiry. He thought the girl was referring to their batting order during the game where Toujou had played the 3rd batter whereas he played the 9th batter.

“Ohh! So you’re the catcher, then!”

“Eh? Ah, no, actually, I’m a pitcher. Well, Toujou’s a pitcher too but – “

“So you’re flexible??” the third girl blurted out before Sawamura could finish what he has to say.

“Why, yes, of course! I am in fact a very flexible player!” Sawamura replied with pride as he pointed his thumb towards himself.

“Kyaa!” the girls shouted upon hearing the pitcher’s response.

The members at the back were now laughing so hard, some of them were struggling at the ground. Chris, Kanemaru, and Haruichi were blushing out of second-hand embarrassment as they listened to Sawamura’s answers.

“Oh! My sides, it hurts! Sawamura, you really are the best!” Miyuki commented as he laughed together with Kuramochi who was snickering at his roommate.

Toujou’s brain short-circuited for a moment as he heard the conversation. Unwilling to have his dignity stained any further, Toujou walked towards Sawamura and the girls who were still busy squealing at Sawamura’s statement. Who would’ve thought that the girls who were initially asking him to be their boyfriend became fujoshi in just a day right after they had witnessed Toujou and Sawamura’s fake confession? Sawamura had done his part oh-so-well that it actually backfired.

“Sawamura,” Toujou called his name as he placed his left hand at Sawamura’s mouth.

“Hmpff – “

“Stop talking. You need to cool down. Like literally.”

Sawamura was about to say something but he was dragged by Toujou to prevent any further damage, to both their dignities. The girls bade their goodbye at the ‘couple’. Sawamura just waved his hand while Toujou just smiled awkwardly at them as he continued dragging Sawamura away from them.

When Toujou and Sawamura reached their other members who were still busy laughing, Toujou decided to remove his hand from Sawamura’s mouth.

“Eh? What’re you guys laughing about?”

“Kominato,” Kanemaru called Haruichi who was standing right beside him while looking at the southpaw pitcher. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“Huh? About what?” Haruichi asked, still worried at the chaos ensuing.

“I’ll make sure to protect Sawamura’s innocence within three years of high school,” Kanemaru responded, his face filled with determination.

Haruichi just smiled.

You keep on complaining, but in the end, you still look out for Eijun-kun like a mother hen.

“What’s this all about?? Stop laughing and just explain to me why you’re laughing at me?” Sawamura bellowed as he heard some words on the people surrounding him between laughs.

He’s not sure exactly why they are laughing but he can sort of understand that they are laughing at him. Miyuki, who had gained back his composure, wrapped his arm around Sawamura’s shoulder as he smirked at the southpaw pitcher.

“Sawamura,” Miyuki called in a sympathizing tone, a tone he seldom used towards the pitcher.

“What??” Sawamura shouted in response, already irritated at the laughs penetrating his ears.

“As your senpai” Miyuki started, emphasizing the last word. “I’ll be kind enough to explain what happened back there.”

Sawamura hesitated for a second but seeing no one was currently in their right minds to talk to him, he said ‘Okay’ in a soft voice. Kuramochi, who was listening to their conversation finally got what Miyuki intended to do.

“Miyuki, you bastard – “

“When the girl asked you who is the bottom, what she actually meant by that is…”

But before Miyuki could continue his explanation, a large warm hand landed at his left shoulder.

“Miyuki,” a deep but warm voice emanated across the bullpen.

The whole team became quiet when they noticed that Chris had already intervened between Miyuki and Sawamura’s conversation before Kuramochi could.

“Just what do you think you’re trying to explain to Sawamura?”

Chris was by no means angry, but his voice sounds so threatening it sends a chill on everyone’s spine.

“Chris-senpai?” Miyuki asked, bewildered at the other catcher’s reaction.

“Kuramochi,” Chris called.

“Aye, sir!” Kuramochi responded swiftly as if he understood Chris’ intentions.

The shortstop pulled Sawamura away from Miyuki which surprised the battery but did not make any movements and just went with the actions of the other members. Kuramochi stayed behind Sawamura as he placed both his hands on Sawamura’s ears to block any poisonous words that could taint their ever innocent southpaw pitcher.

“I’m so sorry, Miyuki-senpai,” Kanemaru and Haruichi apologized in advance as they grabbed Miyuki.

Kanemaru, like what Toujou did to Sawamura a while ago, placed one of his hands at Miyuki’s mouth as if to warn the catcher not to say anything. The pair then proceeded with dragging Miyuki outside the bullpen. Once they're done, they left the catcher without saying any words then went back to the bullpen.

“There, there. The evil catcher is now gone, you’re safe now, Eijun-kun,” Haruichi spoke in a soft voice as he ruffled Sawamura’s hair. By that time, Kuramochi had removed his hands on the pitcher’s ears upon noticing that Miyuki had indeed been removed from the vicinity.

“Phew, that was close,” Kanemaru said as he wiped the sweat forming across his forehead.

“Eh? What was close? What just happened? Where’s Miyuki?” Sawamura asked, still confused with his surroundings.

“Sawamura, for the meantime, come with me,” Chris let out a small sigh as he offered his hand towards the boy.

And as if it was enough to ease the boy’s frustrations towards his other teammates, Sawamura took Chris’ hand while he shouted ‘Shishou! I knew you cared for me!’.

Chris was emanating an invisible aura as they exited the bullpen. The others stayed silent before they were gone.

“Okay, Chris’ father instinct was triggered. Do not talk to Sawamura about this incident if you don’t want to incur Chris’ wrath. Do you understand?” Isashiki shouted so everyone at the bullpen can hear.

The rest of the members just nod and exited the bullpen as well.

“Aniki,” Haruichi called his brother as soon as the members started going back to their dorms. “Can’t you do something about Eijun-kun’s situation? If this continues, who knows how this might affect him.”

Ryousuke let out a small sigh. “Since when did you start caring too much about that idiot, hmm?”

“I know you’ll do something about it. After all, he’s our idiot.”

Ryousuke just smiled resigning himself at his younger brother’s request.

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do about it.”

Meanwhile, Miyuki, who was still surprised by what happened realized that he was now standing a few feet away from the bullpen.

“Wait, did I, the main catcher of this team, just get pulled out from the bullpen?”

“Oh yes, you did! Hyahaha!” Kuramochi bellowed in response as he dragged the catcher back to their dorms. “And don’t you dare touch Sawamura for now, Chris-senpai was really angry when you tried to pull that stunt on him at the bullpen.”

Miyuki laughed once more as soon as he realized that Chris-senpai did not want Sawamura’s innocence to be tainted.

“What’s that all about? I didn’t know Chris-senpai dotes too much about that idiot!” he laughed once again after he commented.

“I know, right? I was kinda surprised too.” Kuramochi replied.

“Says the guy who swiftly covered Sawamura’s ears when I’m about to explain to him what’s happening back there,” Miyuki smirked at Kuramochi.

“Shut up!” Kuramochi snapped as he tried to hide his pink-flushed face.

“Admit it, the boy’s growing on you,” Miyuki shouted when he noticed Kuramochi speeding up and leaving him behind.

“Miyuki, shut the hell up!!” Kuramochi shouted back in response to which Miyuki just laughed.

THE AFTERMATH

In their next practice, the three girls were no longer bothering Sawamura and Toujou.

Miraculously, the rumors about Toujou and Sawamura dating were only contained within the Seidou baseball members. Of course, this miracle was only possible with Ryousuke and some other third years doing a few things in the background. No one dared to ask how they did it but Toujou was very happy that the issue was now resolved.

Sawamura Eijun Protection Squad (aka SEPS) was formed with Chris as the president. This organization was in fact approved by Coach Kataoka and Rei-san after hearing Chris’ explanation.

Miyuki, up to the challenge, kept on trying to drop some hints at Sawamura regarding baseball innuendos that the girls previously asked him. He even left a BL manga on Sawamura’s desk which he managed to steal, ahem, borrowed from one of the confiscated paraphernalia he happened to find when they were tasked to clean the abandoned room. Fortunately, Kuramochi saw Sawamura and snatched it right before he could see the manga.

Since then, Isashiki made sure to check all the mangas being lent to Sawamura before he could actually read it.

#dna fanfic #daiya no ace fanfic #anime fanfic #daiya no ace #diamond no ace #fluff and humor #sawamura eijun #toujou hideaki #kanemaru shinji #furuya satoru #kominato haruichi #miyuki kazuya #kuramochi youichi #takigawa chris yuu #yuuki tetsuya #isashiki jun #kominato ryousuke

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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Riding On Ch3: What Happens In Vegas...

Summary: We catch up with what Fliss got up to whilst Frank was living it up in Vegas, before they both face up to the events of the weekend, because this time what happened in Vegas certainly doesn’t stay there…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Imma still running from @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and I won’t be stopping at the end of this either…As always, thanks to my unofficial beta @icanfeelastormbrewing for the usual inputs and opinions. J Chapter Song: Trouble Loves Me by Morrissey

Series Materlist // WIYPT Masterlist

Just when it seems like everything’s evened out, and the balance seems serene, see the fool I’ll be, still running ‘round on the flesh rampage

“Hey!” Fliss greeted Bonnie as she walked over to where the woman was supervising the after school club.

“Hiya!” Bonnie smiled “You heard from Frank today?”

“Yeah, before.” Fliss smiled, before she looked and Bonnie “I gotta say, that video of Simon…”

“He’s an idiot.” Bonnie shook her head “Punching his own reflection…I mean…”

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s probably the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages.” Fliss giggled and Bonnie snorted, shaking her head again. At that point Mary came running over, her cheeks pink

“Hey Lissy.” “Hey sweetheart, you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I got a surprise for you!”

“Me?”

“Yup!”

“Where is it?”

“We gotta go pick it up.”

“Oh, ok…bye Miss Stevenson!”

“See you Mary!” Bonnie smiled as she started to head off to Fliss’ car “Hey, give me a call…we can do lunch Sunday before the boys get back.”

“Sure.” Fliss nodded. “I’ll text you.”

With a final goodbye she headed after Mary and climbed into the driver’s side.

“Where’s Thor?” Mary asked.

“He’s at Mum and Dad’s with Rupert and Fred.” she said, “I thought after our surprise we could stay there for the weekend, use the pool and the Cinema Room…”

“Ok…” Mary looked at her suspiciously.

“I promise you’re gonna like it!”

“Just tell me.” Mary looked at her as Fliss set off driving.

“Sure you wanna know?”

“You’re as bad as Frank.” The girl rolled her eyes and Fliss laughed.

“We’re going to pick Steve up from the airport.”

Mary’s face split into a huge grin, it was a well-known fact that besides Bill, Fliss’ brother was basically her favourite person that wasn’t Frank on the planet.

“Uncle Steeby is coming to stay?” she looked at Fliss.

“Yup for a whole month. He has some work in Orlando and Tampa so he’s gonna be staying in town for a while, and then in Easter Sian and the twins are flying over.”

“Oh man!” Mary grinned, laying her head back on the seat “This is great!”

Mary’s excitement seemed to increase the nearer they got to the Airport, and Fliss had to practically hold her down in the seat as she parked the car, telling her to wait a second. Once she’d managed to park they headed into the arrivals lounge and little after 15 minutes later her brother appeared, towing his suitcase behind him.

“Hey Stack!” he grinned as Mary flung herself at him and he swept her up in a hug “How’s it hanging?” “Same old, same old!” she grinned and he let out a laugh before he placed her down and turned to Fliss.

“Oh my God!” he smiled as Fliss walked over to him “Look at you!”

She laughed “I know…” with a nod she looked down “Nothing until 16 weeks and then wham…now I feel like it’s getting bigger every day.”

He pulled her into his arms and gave her the usual bear hug before the three of them headed out to the car. On the way back to the house, Steve filled Fliss in on what exactly he was doing. The construction company he owned was in the running for a very big job in Orlando building a complete village of holiday villas not far from Lake Buena Vista. As such he was out here to meet a few people and attend the Bidders Conference, whilst also taking a look at some potential office buildings in Lakeland.

“If we win this tender Fliss, it’s going to be huge.” he smiled at her “We’re talking millions.”

“That’s great.” she smiled “You’ve really blown it up since Dad handed over the reins, I’m really pleased for you!”

“I got lucky.”

“No, it was hard work.” Fliss glanced at him.

“Frank says you make your own luck.” Mary added.

“See!” Fliss grinned at her brother. “So, would you guys move out here or…”

“I’m tempted.” he said, “As with anything, I’ll need a project team who can oversee the local suppliers and labour that type of thing, manage the schedules and what not…but our head offices will still be in Liverpool, so I’m undecided. Either way I’ll be spending a lot more time here, certainly in the first 12 months whilst it all gets up and running.”

“How does Sian feel about it?”

“She’s excited. She knows what it means to me, to the business. Obviously she realises it means more time apart as I’ll be out here quite often but…”

“Is it selfish of me to be happy about that?” Fliss smiled and Steve laughed.

“Nope, because we all know I’m the best big brother in the world.”

Fliss grinned and shook her head as Mary began to enthusiastically talk to Steve about school and University and the Girl Scout group she was in. Fliss interjected whenever she needed to but other than that she was happy to let the two of them chat away.

Once home Steve headed over to the Annex where he would be staying whilst Mary went outside to play with the dogs, Fred happy to oversee things from his spot on a chair on the large decking platform which-over looked the pool area. Steve appeared an hour or so later having showered and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Fliss grinning at him, calling him a tourist. Whilst it wasn’t cold by cold standards, she found it chillier having grown used to the blazing heat of the summer. Steve, who had come from the chilly early spring in England, simply rolled his eyes and handed her the box he had in his hand.

“It’s a present from me and Sian.” he smiled.

Fliss glanced down and smiled at the selection box of Pukka Tea bags.

“Steeby this is great!” she beamed “I’ve been struggling to find them out here since Sian recommended them.”

She gently opened the box and glanced at the various herbal teas. There were 12 different flavours such as Peppermint and Liquorice, Ginger and Manuka Honey, Chamomile and Rose to name but a few. There was even a handwritten note inside from Sian, explaining which ones had helped her with various symptoms she felt during her pregnancy. She closed the purple and gold box and looked up at Steve, tears in her eyes.

“Hey, come on Titch!” he laughed as she fell into his arms, chuckling herself at her ridiculous tears “It’s just tea bags.” “It’s really thoughtful, thank you.” she stepped back, wiping her eyes “Fucking hormones.” Steve chuckled, rubbing her back slightly before she turned and began pulling the rest of the stuff out for dinner.

“Wanna help?” she asked.

“You really want me to?” He smirked “I’ve still not forgot the time we made brownies and set fire to the curtains at the Farm house.” “Ok, first off those curtains were rank, as Mum said when Dad came home and hit the roof, second off, they were pot brownies and we were already stoned after smoking a load! Cooking and being high do not mix.”

Steve laughed “God, poor Mum didn’t know what to do. Came home, found us both on the floor eating them, with burnt curtains hanging at the window.” “She knew we were stoned, she told me.” Fliss grinned, handing Steve a knife “Said she lied to dad that it had been her to get us off the hook.” “Well that didn’t work because Dad told me he knew full well it was us. He made me pay for the new curtains and told me that if I ever let you smoke that stuff again he was going to beat me within an inch of my life.” Fliss laughed “He was so full of shit, he never raised a hand to either of us. Never would either.” “No, but the threat was there. Even if I was 22 at the time, scared the shit out of me.”

“Thankfully we both grew up since then, huh?” Fliss shrugged, as she grabbed a chopping board to start carving up the meat for the tacos.

“Hmmm, debatable.” Steve nudged her. “Although I can safely say I haven’t done weed since the twins were born…as tempting as it was at times.”

“I can’t remember the last time I did.” Fliss mused “Was certainly before I moved to Boston.” “Frankie boy not dabble every now and then?”

“Nope.” Fliss said “He doesn’t smoke and says the last time he did pot it made him pull a whitey so he steers clear. Hardest thing he does now is Bourbon.” “Huh…” Steve mused “I had him pegged as a bit of wild one…” “He’s not.” Fliss shook her head “I mean he cuts loose when we go out, and I dread to think about the states he’s gonna be in this weekend but…” she shrugged “He’s well adjusted, sensible, level headed…can be a bit of a child at times but, show me a man who isn’t?” Steve shot her a look and she chuckled.

“So, how is he?” Steve asked. “Seems like ages since I spoke to him.” “He’s good.” Fliss smiled “His work is going well. He’s really excited about the baby.” her hand dropped to her bump. “We’re gonna start looking for houses now our landlord had said he won’t hold us to our contract. Frankie wants to move as soon as we can so he can get a nursery ready but I’m not bothered. Not like we’ll need the extra space really until a few months after it’s born.”

“You’d be surprised.” Steve raised an eyebrow “Babies accumulate a lot of stuff…” “Well, we’ll manage either way.” Fliss shrugged “Most important thing is they’re safe and happy. We can figure the rest out as we go.” “You gonna buy or…” “Hopefully.” Fliss nodded “With work and stuff now we shouldn’t have a problem borrowing now but, I don’t know, we’re going to look into it properly once Jake’s wedding is out of the way in a few weeks.”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath “You know, I wasn’t sure about you two at first, not because I didn’t like Frank, I did, I mean I do but, well, I just thought after Dickhead that you needed time to heal and find yourself again.” Fliss looked at him as he chewed the inside of his lip before he turned to her. “But then when I saw you again after your first Christmas together and then over the Easter…I dunno, you just…”

Fliss smiled and looked down, shrugging “I might have healed in a lot of ways before I met Frank but I was still broken Steeb. Finding my way in a new relationship was hard work, it was daunting…I constantly found myself automatically doing things I did with or for John…like you know the first time Frank ever stayed over, in the morning I just got up and was about to make him coffee and he was so puzzled by it.” she shrugged “that could have been so awkward but Frank…well, he didn’t let it feel that way. Simply told me to stay the fuck in bed.” “Don’t wanna know.” Steve pulled a face and Fliss laughed.

“Joking aside, I know it used to bother him because it was almost like on a subconscious level I was comparing the two of them but he never once lost his temper, not really anyway, other than to tell me to stop putting him on a pedestal for being fucking normal…his words, not mine.” she said, framing them in quotation marks with her fingers. “He just gets it. He gets me.” “You finished with the sales pitch?” Steve asked her and she narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed “You don’t need to convince me Titch, I like the guy, I just wasn’t sure you were in the right place but it's obvious he helped you get there.” Fliss smiled.

“And Mum and Dad worship the ground he walks on.” Steve shrugged “Like seriously…”

“Awww you jealous?” Fliss teased and Steve turned, pointing the small knife he was holding at her.

“Behave.” he smirked and Fliss laughed.

“I know what you mean though…whenever we argue they’re both like ‘you need to stop being so hard on him, Lissy’.” She snorted.

“Well, to be fair, you are a little bit…” Steve shrugged “Oh, I dunno, a bit of a pain in the ass at times.” “Fuck you.” she sniggered, as Steve chuckled and once again looked down at her.

“I’m glad you found him. You deserve to be happy.” Fliss smiled, and let her brother give her another hug before she instructed him to get on with his allocated job of dicing onions if they wanted any chance of eating this side of summer. Between the two of them, they had dinner ready in half an hour and the three of them ate inside at the large kitchen table. It wasn’t long after they finished that Frank Face timed. After a conversation with Mary, instructing her once more to behave, she handed the phone to Fliss who smiled at her man and excused herself for a little while so she could go talk to him in private. He told her they were off to play poker, promised he wouldn’t gamble Bean and Mary’s inheritance away, before he apologetically said he needed to go and promised he would message her later, despite her insistence that he didn’t need to keep checking in.

The siblings and Mary, plus animals migrated to the lounge of the villa as Steve yawned, desperately trying to keep himself awake as long as possible to counteract the time difference between Florida and their home in the North West of England. He ended up helping himself to a healthy shot of Bill’s 12 year old Single Malt as Fliss had an apple juice mixed with lemonade, the 2 of them on the couch, the foot stools of the recliners in front of them whilst Mary led on the rug, playing on her computer.

At one point she let out a snigger, and Fliss looked at her suspiciously.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Frank before told me to stop doing maths and do something else…so I’m googling.” she shrugged.

“Googling what?”

“Random pregnancy facts…did you know the longest pregnancy ever recorded was 375 days?”

“What?” Fliss spluttered “That’s over a year!”

Mary grinned “and the shortest was 21 weeks and four days…both babies survived.”

Steve looked at Fliss, chuckling to himself as he took a drink of his scotch.

“Woah, your heart grows bigger too…” Mary said, “and your blood volume increases by 40-50%. That’s pretty cool.”

“No wonder you get fat…” Steve mused and Fliss picked up a cushion, hitting him in the face with it.

“And your voice can change!” Mary looked up at Fliss “Says here that it can get lower…” she studied her for a second before she nodded “Talk to me…” “What do you want me to say?” Fliss asked, dropping her voice deliberately and Mary shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“You’re doing a Frank…” she sing songed.

“Doing a Frank?” Steve looked at his sister.

“Code for being an idiot.” Fliss smiled.

“You’re 18 weeks right?” Mary continued.

“Yeah”

“It says here that’s the time the baby can hear sounds…but it gets more responsive at 25-26 weeks…” she paused “Have you felt Bean move yet?”

“No.” Fliss shook her head, “but apparently for your first baby it’s not uncommon for you not to feel it until after 20 weeks.”

“Huh, they call it quickening…” Mary mused then she grinned “I can’t wait to feel it kicking you.”

“Gee thanks Stack…” Fliss looked at her as Steve let out a loud laugh

“I bloody love this kid!” he grinned and Mary smiled back.

*****

Saturday flew by. Fliss had lessons all day at the yard, Mary hanging around to help Joanne with various tasks before she herself got to ride Monty. She was now fully walking, trotting and cantering off the line competently, so when she asked Fliss if they could try a little jump, seeing as Frank wasn’t there to shit himself Fliss agreed.

Joanna set the cross poles up, leaving the jump at less than half a foot high, but it was enough for what they wanted to do.

“Ok…so…” Fliss said, nudging the ground pole with her foot. “We’re going to just trot him at this for the time being, so when he steps over this pole you have a count of one before he is going to take off. So you need to stand up… and fold forward slightly, giving him the reins. Show me.” Mary obediently stood up, and Fliss moved to help her adjust her legs so they didn’t fling too far back.

“Ok, good…” Fliss nodded. “Joanna’s gonna lead you over the first few times ok, and if you feel like you’re losing your balance then grab hold of this bit at the bottom of his mane. It won’t hurt him, I promise.” “OK, I’m ready…” Mary nodded.

“Alright…” Fliss said, stepping back. Joanna led Monty away, before they picked up trot and ran at the small jump.

“Get ready to fold!” Fliss instructed Mary, as she approached the pole. Doing exactly as she was told Mary leaned forward as Monty took off from the ground and landed perfectly after the jump. Mary sat back up and looked over her shoulder at the jump then to Fliss who gave her the thumbs up.

“Woah, did you see that?” Mary grinned, and Fliss nodded.

“Sure did!” she laughed. “Go again?”

Mary nodded eagerly and Joanna laughed. “Well done kiddo!”

They repeated this 5 or 6 times more before Fliss asked Mary if she wanted to try on her own. Never one to back down she nodded so Joanne unclipped the line and Mary trotted Monty around in a circle before she came at the jump.

“Ok, sit up and look straight between his ears at where you’re going.” Fliss said “Don’t look down…” Mary approached the jump and Fliss held her breath, but needn’t have bothered. Monty, ever the pro took Mary over the poles easily and stopped a few strides at the other side, Mary letting out an excited yell.

“I did it!”

Fliss gave her a huge smile.

“Can we film it and send it to Frank?”

“Damned straight we can!” Fliss grinned, “Do it again.”

She pulled her phone out, filmed Mary once again jumping and then turned her phone off, slipping into her pocket as Mary rode Monty back over.

“That was amazing!” the little girl was beaming ear to ear.

Fliss nodded “Yeah, it was. You did really well Stack. You wanna walk him off now then and we can feed and go home?” Mary nodded as she turned Monty away to let him walk around the outside of the paddock. With a smile she grabbed her phone and sent the footage to Frank. He replied a few minutes later with a load of wide mouthed emojis accompanied by the words “Jesus Christ, what did I say about keeping all 4 legs on the ground?”

“Oh hush Sailor!” she replied “She loved it. Now don’t forget I want a photo of you and Greg in those suits before you go out.” “Yes ma’am…now by my watch it must be nearly 6pm there. Take Mary and Bean home and get some rest.”

Rolling her eyes she responded about him being bossy to which he replied he was entitled to be as she was carrying his kid. A few more jokey messages were shared before Fliss promised to go home and Frank said he would talk to her later.

They grabbed a pizza on the way back and once more joined Steve for dinner, the 3 of them sitting in Bill’s large cinema room later watching Avengers-Age of Ultron. Before it had finished Fliss fell asleep, to be woken by Steve at the end of the film, Mary laughing at her as she groaned and stretched out.

“Sorry!” she grinned and Steve snorted.

“She falls asleep all the time.” Mary laughed “Frank said the baby is like a parasite, sucking all her energy.”

“A parasite?” Fliss snorted indignantly, her hand falling to her bump “You hear that Bean, that’s your dad saying that. Rude…”

“He isn’t wrong though.” Steve laughed. “Sian used to refer to our two as the bloodsuckers.” Shaking her head Fliss stood up and looked at Mary, “Bed, come on. You’re out with Roberta tomorrow.” “Anywhere nice?” Steve asked Mary.

“Just to the beach.” came the reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while so we’re gonna go watch the surfing competition. Roberta likes the shorts the men wear.”

“Sure she does.” Steve smirked, laughing.

“Some of them are brighter than Frank’s shirts.” Mary mused, causing Steve to laugh harder.

They bid him goodnight, getting ready for bed before Fliss tucked Mary in and went to the spare room. She fell asleep not long after but was woken early Sunday morning with a desperate need to pee. Once sorted she text her phone to find a very drunk text from Frank, declaring he loved her and couldn’t wait for Bean to arrive and for them to get married. She shook her head, glancing at the time, it was almost 4 am meaning it was 1am in Vegas. Smiling as she replied half asleep herself, telling him to maybe think about drinking water instead of any more alcohol, she turned over and closed her eyes.

***** Frank sat dumbfounded, his entire body rigid as the person next to him in the bed let out a sigh, and then a deep groan before a head emerged from under the covers.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Frank exhaled and let out a groan as Simon looked at him “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well, technically this is my room, jerk.” Simon said, blinking “What year is it?

“You scared the shit out of me.” Frank took a deep breath “I thought…”

“You thought you left with the blonde?” Simon peeked up at him “Nah, man. Mind you, wasn’t for her lack of trying. She was all over you. Eventually you told her to fuck off. You were quite rude actually.” Frank let out a sigh, his head falling back against the head board.

Simon sighed turning over, before he peered under the covers. “For the love of- Frank you’re naked.” “I’m aware of that.” Frank groaned.

“Fucking hell…” Simon grimaced, before he rolled out of bed “I’m going for a pee. Put some clothes on.”

Once Simon was in the bathroom he climbed out of bed, his head still spinning as he found his clothes in a pile on the floor. Shoving on his boxers and shirt he looked around the room to see an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a pizza box on the table.

“Where the hell did we go?” He asked Simon as he walked back into the room. “Don’t ask me.” Simon looked at him, falling face down on the bed. “I know we took Greg back to your room…”

“We did?”

“Yeah he was wasted.” Simon nodded, rolling over as Frank flopped back on the bed. “He could hardly walk so the bouncers asked us to take him out of the club. We threw him in your room then…we must have gone back out…hang on…”

With a herculean effort, Simon pushed himself up and found his phone. After a brief scan his eyes widened and he snorted.

“Look.”

He turned the phone round to Frank, who saw a selfie of him and Simon in front of a face down Greg in the hotel room. Simon then began to flick through.

“Oh, ok so we went to a liquor store…” he turned the phone round to show Frank a blurry photo of a shop front “Don’t ask me why I took that and oh my god!”

“What?” Simon pressed play and a load of cheering and singing hit their ears as they watched footage of a small man dressed as a leprechaun dancing in the hotel foyer, Frank on his knees in front of him, laughing.

“I literally have no memory of that…at all.” Frank shook his head.

“Looks like we called Bonnie as well…” Simon snorted “If this angry text message that I got at 3 am is anything to go by.”

“Oh fuck…” Frank hastily reached for his phone, which really didn’t have a lot of battery left, and he hastily scanned his calls. There were none to Fliss, but he had sent her a message. According to her reply she’d been up to use the toilet…so that was ok.

His phone illuminated then with 2 messages. One from Fliss asking him if he was hungover, as he deserved to be, and another from Greg asking him where the fuck he was. Deciding to reply to Greg first, as he could picture the man stressing he tapped out a quick reply informing him not to worry, he’d be back at the room as soon as he’d managed to dress himself, which at the moment thanks to his head was proving a little difficult, before he replied to Fliss saying he was indeed hungover and he needed to crawl into a hole and die and as ever, reminded her he loved her.

No sooner had he sent it, she was calling him.

“That was quick…” he mumbled, before answering it. “Hey honey…” “So, wanna tell me exactly where and what you were doing that requires you to get dressed before you go back to the room?” her voice was steely.

Shit. He had sent the messages to the wrong people.

“Lissy, it’s not what you think…” he instantly began.

“Oh, you have no IDEA what I’m thinking!” her voice grew louder

“No, listen…I’m with Simon…” he chuckled.

“You think this is funny?” she sniffed and Frank grimaced.

“Baby, stop.” he sighed “Look, we ended up back at his room and I passed out here. That message was meant for Greg as he was asking me where I was. Instead he now has a message saying I’m hungover to fuck and that I love him.”

She was silent and he could hear her on the other end of the line rustling something before she spoke again in a quiet voice “So you weren’t with anyone else?”

“No, Sweetheart I wasn’t. Why would I want to be huh? Most beautiful girl in the world waiting for me at home.” At that Simon let out a retching noise “God you make me want to puke Adler.” “Oh fuck off Si you dick.” he shot back.

“Hey Fliss…” Simon leaned over to speak down the phone, grabbing Frank’s wrist to stop him moving it. “Now you, Bonnie and me have all seen Frank nekkid...”

“I swear to God I’m gonna punch you in a minute…” Frank mumbled, jerking his arm out of Simon’s reach and pushing him so hard he rolled over and fell off the side of the bed. Frank let out a laugh as Simon groaned and a hand appeared in the air, flipping him off.

“He knows about you and Bonnie?”

“Apparently so.” Frank mused

Fliss snorted “So anything else you wanna tell me about what you got up to? Other than naked spooning Si?”

Frank laughed “We found a dancing leprechaun.”

“A dancing leprechaun?” “Yeah, in the hotel somewhere.”

“Standard.” she giggled “So, are you ready to come home now you’ve spent the last few days acting like overgrown frat boys?

“Yes, I’m more than ready to leave Aldrich Whitaker behind”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“My alter ego for last night. He’s a trust fund ass hole…” Frank grinned.

There was a pause before she replied, snorting “Whatever.”

At that point his phone gave him a bleep to tell him he was dangerously low on battery power. “Look, baby, my phones gonna die. I’ll call you when I get it charged ok?”

“Yeah, sure, hey Frankie…sorry I jumped to conclusions.” she said softly.

“It’s ok” he laughed “I’m not surprised after that message.”

“Yeah but still…” she paused “Can I blame the hormones?”

“If you want.”

“In that case it was totally them.”

He chucked “Ok. Anyway, hormones or not, I love you.”

“Love you too sailor”

With that his phone cut off and he glanced down at it, the screen blank as the power had gone. He dropped it on the bed, before leaning back again, his hand against his forehead.

“I’m NEVER coming to Vegas again”

“Oh you not fancy it for your Batchelor party then? Simon teased as he threw Frank a bottle of water from the mini bar.”

“The fuck I do.” Frank shook his head.

*****

“I’d like to say I’m surprised but…” Bonnie shrugged as Fliss snorted, taking a drink of her apple juice from the carton as they walked back to their cars in the setting sun. They’d had dinner at one of the beach bars and stayed simply chatting for half an hour or so, but now Fliss was now ready to head home, shower and bunker down for the rest of the evening until Frank came home.

“I knew he’d end up paralytic.” Fliss said, watching as Mary wandered back towards them, huge ice cream in her hand. “Ok, Stack that’s bigger than your head.”

Mary shrugged, handing Fliss her change “It’s good though.” “Mint choc chip?”

“Yup.” she grinned, taking a huge lick. “When’s Frank back?”

“He lands into Tampa in about 4 hours.” Fliss looked at her “Why, you fed up of me already?”

“No, just thinking how peaceful it’s been without him annoying me.”

Fliss grinned and Bonnie gave a chuckle.

“Hey, did you tell Bonnie about you jumping Monty?” Fliss asked.

“Oh, no…” Mary turned to the woman, enthusiastically telling her all about it as Bonnie listened, Fliss walking alongside them, her hand rubbing her bump. She was just thinking about how nice a nap would be right then when Bonnie’s phone went.

“Sorry Mary…” she said, frowning at the number. “Hey, Lisa?” Fliss attention turned to Bonnie and she watched carefully as she spoke to Jake’s fiancé, her eyes flicked to her “No, no why…what’s…oh, ok…yeah…”

She cancelled the phone call and instantly tapped at the screen.

“Everything ok?” Fliss frowned.

“Yeah, I just need to check something.” she said. Fliss glanced at Mary who looked at her, shrugging.

“Here…” Fliss handed her the keys to the jeep “Go open the car…” “You know if you want me out of the way just ask.” Mary rolled her eyes.

“Ok I want you out of the way.” Fliss looked down at her. Mary snorted and took the keys, wandering off the 50 yards or so to the jeep. Fliss watched her climb in the back, the door staying open and her legs dangling out of the side. “Bonnie what is it?”

“Nothing…” Bonnie said, far too quickly as she looked up at Fliss. Fliss frowned.

“Bonnie…”

“Honestly, it’s nothing, just something Lisa told me about on facebook so…” Bonnie stuttered slightly so Fliss narrowed her eyes.

“Stop bullshitting.” Fliss said, holding her gaze “What the fuck’s going on?”

“Look, I’m sure it’s not what it seems…” Bonnie sighed, holding out her phone. At those words Fliss felt her heart sink as it could only mean one thing, and she took the phone with a tentative hand. She looked down at it and could see that it was a photo and from the logo in the bottom right hand corner it was from the official club page that the boys had been in on Saturday night.

It showed Jake, Greg, Simon, and a few others that Fliss didn’t recognise but that wasn’t what Bonnie had been referring to. What she had been talking about, as Fliss could clearly see was the background of the shot, which showed Frank with a blonde woman. Her arms were round his neck, his hand was resting on her lower back and their faces inches apart.

“Like I said, I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation…” Bonnie said, but Fliss wasn’t listening. She was busy flicking through the other photos and then she came across another of Frank, the same girl perched on his knee.

She felt sick.

“Sure, perfectly innocent…” Fliss swallowed, handing the phone back to Bonnie, her voice sounding detached. Bonnie looked down at the snap now displayed on the screen and she took a deep breath.

“Look, Fliss, Frank loves you…he was probably just drunk and…” “Touching up some whore that’s sat on his lap.” Fliss shook her head “Save it Bonnie, I gotta go.” “Fliss…”

Fliss turned away from her, the tears stinging her eyes as she headed to the jeep. Taking a deep breath she wiped her eyes, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Are you ok?” Mary looked at her.

“Yeah, fine…just tired and hormonal.” Fliss shot her a smile.

“We can watch a film when we get back.” Mary suggested “Just chill out?”

“Yeah, yeah we can.” Fliss trying to quell the sick feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with Bean.

Had Frank really cheated on her? She would never in a million years thought he had it in him to be unfaithful, and she was desperate to believe Bonnie, that there was some perfectly innocent explanation for it all. And maybe, just maybe with the first one she could. It could have been taken at a bad moment, when they were just talking to one another, Frank being friendly…but then again why would they have their arms round one another. And as for the second one…the same girl was sat on his fucking lap with her arm looped round his shoulder.

And he looked perfectly comfortable with it.

She rubbed her bump again and Mary looked at her. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine sweetheart.” she nodded, painting a smile on her face before turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s go home.”

******

Frank sighed as they all trudged through the arrivals lounge, rubbing his eyes. He was ready for a shower and collapse next to his girl, he felt like he had aged a decade over the last 3 days. The rest of them looked just as bad as they headed to the waiting car, Simon’s phone reminding Frank he needed to turn his on to.

“Oh, shit…” he heard Simon groan “No, that’s not…he didn’t…I swear…”

He glanced at Frank who stood still, watching and leaning on the door frame, his own phone in his hand as it started up.

“Yeah, ok…love you…see you soon.” Simon swallowed and cut the call looking at Frank.

“What is it?” Frank looked at him, a cold feeling washing over him “Has something happened to Lissy or Mary? Or the baby, please tell me no…” “No, nothing like that but you need to call Fliss.” he said, “Frank, there’s photos of you and that blonde chick on the club facebook page. Someone tagged me and Greg in them, Lisa saw them and Bonnie and…” “Photos of what?” Frank frowned “I didn’t do anything…” “There’s a photo that makes it look like you are…and one of her on your lap.” Simon said and Frank swallowed, his stomach churning.

“Oh fuck…”

“Just get in the car.” Greg said, looking at him from where he stood at the other side. “Call her on the way, we’ll back you up…it’s a misunderstanding…”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine…” Jake assured him.

But it wasn’t fine, because no matter how much he tried, or how many messages he sent her, she wasn’t picking up or replying and when he saw the photos, and had to admit…they looked pretty bad, he could understand her being pissed. He would be if it was the other way round. The drive home seemed to take forever, and when the car finally rounded the corner onto Frank’s road they all offered to come in as well and help him explain, but he shook his head, knowing full well if he did that she would feel backed into a corner. No, this was his own dumbass fault. He’d face up to it and talk to her, make her understand how he’d told the girl to back off…she’d listen, she was reasonable.

The house was quiet when he entered and he walked through to the lounge where Fliss was sat on the sofa, her knees bent up besides her. She glanced over the back of the couch and he could see she had been crying, which made him feel like even more of bastard than he did already.

“Lissy, honey, I swear…” “You know, when I asked if there was anything you wanted to tell me, maybe I should have asked if there was something you should be telling me” she said, uncurling her legs and standing up. Thor’s ears pricked up from where he had been laying on the rug.

“Listen, those photos…they’re not…” he shook his head “I told her to get lost, honestly I swear…”

He moved towards her, his hands dropping to her hips but she pushed him hard in the chest, stepping back.

“Don’t touch me...I don’t want you anywhere near me.” she said quietly

“Sweetheart, I swear to God…”

“I don’t wanna hear it Frank.” she sniffed walking past him. “Where are you going?” he asked, “Lissy, you can’t leave…please, sweetheart…” “I’m going to bed, but let’s get one thing straight. The only reason I’m not screaming at you right now and storming out, slamming the door behind me is because of Mary.” she spoke calmly, too calmly for the anger which was radiating out of every inch of her body. She looked at Frank, her eyes watering as she shook her head, turning away “You can take the couch.”

“Lissy…” “Frank…just…stop.” she said, her voice cracking, and with that she left the room, Thor trotting behind, the bedroom door clicking behind her.

Frank stood, rooted to the spot, debating whether or not to follow her, before he decided not to. The last thing he wanted was to anger her that much she stormed out, or worse, she got so stressed something happened to the baby. No, she’d set the boundaries so he decided to respect them, and turned instead to the couch, sinking down onto the cushions his head in his hands.

She was angry, upset and she had the right to be and like he had said in the car, in her position he knew he would feel the same. She needed to sleep, calm down enough so that they could talk and he could explain, get her to listen to him. And then she’d see that it was a huge misunderstanding, even if she remained pissed at him for having the girl so close in the first place, which, ok, he shouldn’t have done but fuck…the thought of cheating hadn’t entered his mind, not once.

He swung his legs up, rubbing his face over his hands. She’d believe him. She had to, because if she didn’t, he had no idea what the fuck he was gonna do.

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted fan fic #gifted

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Steal my Sunshine

Beta: @dead-starlight Network: @btscreatorscorner [Summer Project] Pairing: Non-idol!BTS x Friend!Reader Genre: Action, comedy, Drama, Romance, Angst, Adventure Summary: You meet the Bangtan boys whilst partying, you bond over a once in a life time backpacking experience. But when morning comes Hoseok is missing, you all do you best to track him down. What started as a fun backpacking holiday becomes the most daring adventure of your life. Words: 5.8k

It all started in Mykonos.

The group had just arrived in Greece. They were amazed by the picturesque island, with such clear and bright beaches. They were walking along the beach, looking up at all the white buildings whilst heading up the hill and trying to find their hostel quickly so they could drop their bags and see the highlights Mykonos had to offer before the sun went down and the bustling nightlife arose; jumpstarting the hearts of the young and old residents within the city.

They arrived at the Hostel, smiling politely at the receptionist. Each gave their names and were given a key before being led by a young man upstairs. The room was kind of small but there were four bunk beds, so they were lucky enough to share a room together without any strangers. Discarding their bags onto whichever bed they desired while discussing their plans, Hoseok and Jungkook wanted to freshen up, not liking the idea of feeling sweaty.

Yoongi wanted a nap and promptly face planted his bed. Jimin and Seokjin agreed they wanted food to be a priority, which soon became the general consensus even from the young man half-asleep. The group, now ready to face the island, locked their bags in the hostel and headed out onto the streets.

It was easy to lose track of time, it was like they were in a whole new world. They planned to be traveling all over Greece’s best islands for one whole week and they were going to explore everything the land, air and sea had to offer. “I want to go swimming!” Taehyung grinned, pointing to the beach.

“We can go snorkeling as well.” Seokjin patted his back and the two bumping heads affectionately.

Each person got to do everything they wanted over the next two days whether it was snorkeling, fishing or heading to the markets. Each one of them had a wonderful first few days in Mykonos and the group could feel they were about to have the most amazing night that would definitely change their lives forever.

The sun began to sink behind the water and the city twinkled, lighting ablaze one glowing light at a time. They got dressed, making sure they were looking good, they were hoping to impress. It didn’t take long following the thumping club music to find the heart of the party.

It was a beach festival, a stage was made on the sand and there were lasers, confetti, and t-shirt canons. That’s where you met them, the eccentric group of boys who made you laugh, each dancing in their own way. You had forgotten their names on multiple occasions and they looked like they were getting a little annoyed, but were too happy to care.

The night was filled with dancing and drinks, the boys partied without care. Some men handed Hoseok a fidget cube with a strange logo on it, but he was too drunk to care and gave it quickly to the Maknae to play with, wanting to dance some more. They made friends and you even scored the whole group free drinks. Seokjin won a set of light sticks from a wet t-shirt competition that flashed a multitude of colors while he headbanged to the music.

“This is the best night of my life~” Hoseok’s voice rang out over the music as you all jumped along with the bass.

One groan set off another and one shuffle caused another and soon the room was awoken from the haze which blanketed them from their consciousness.

Namjoon sighed “Can we lay in bed today?”

“Shh!” Taehyung whined.

“Someone, get coffee!” Jimin pressed his face into his pillow, “Just not me...”

A chorus of not me’s rang through the room.

“Hoseok, that means it’s you” Jungkook sighed, there was no reply so he sat up holding his stomach, fighting nausea. Slapping you on the ass making you jump. “Hoseok?”

“Nope, I am y/n” You mumbled “Where am I? How did I get here.”

“Is Hoseok up there with you?”

“No, just me” You yawned, stretching. “Hosocks isn’t here.”

“Wait what?” Namjoon groaned, pulling himself up into a sitting position as if he had just got out of a car wreck. He called Hoseok and waited, but there was no answer. He frowned “Where the hell did he go?”

“He isn’t one to stray, when he drinks he gets quiet and wants to come home.” Taehyung called, sitting up as well. Jungkook felt something poking him and, reaching for that ‘something’ in his pocket, he found the fidget cube. Unable to stop himself, the boy began aimlessly clicking the buttons. Some made sounds, others didn’t.

Jungkook messed around so much with the buttons that one of them stopped working. Frowning, he rolled the cube to the switch and, as he flicked it, he heard the audible click from the button side. Curiously going back to the buttons, they were all working again, he kept pressing them and it wasn’t long until it got stuck once more.

It took an hour before everyone was up and ready, searching for Hoseok at the hostel and the surrounding neighborhood. You had decided to help as you, like them, were a backpacker without a plan. As they continued to come up empty, they resorted to going to the police.

The police assured them that they will file the missing person case as soon as Hoseok has been missing for forty-eight hours, as it was most likely he had gone home with a young woman or even fell asleep somewhere. “Your friend will turn up around lunchtime, when he gets hungry nursing a hangover, or something, do not worry.”

The group left more than displeased by the response they were given. “I want to deck him.” Yoongi hissed, swinging his fists in the air, pissed off. They were all disappointed, really worried about their friend, they knew Hoseok was not the type to disappear and the idea of letting more time pass by just increased their anxieties. It was clear in their faces that they had a lot of emotions going on, like anger, concern and even guilt.

You had stepped out after your statement to the policeman, whose name you only remembered started with a M, to get them all something to fight the heat. Surprised they had finished giving their statements. With your arms full of small cups of frozen yoghurt. They all seemed relieved to have something refreshing, while they walked back to the hostel, exchanging ideas.

At the hostel, the boys waited. You decided to take a shower, sensing the day would continue to be stressful, it didn’t mean you had to remain sweaty or smelly. Asking politely if you could use their bathroom. You hadn’t booked a room yet in a Hostel of your own, and though it wasn’t exactly the best situation you didn’t want to use your money when this room was paid for. Plus you were not interested in leaving until the mystery of their disappearing friend was solved.

They agreed, waving you off dismissively while trying not to bite their nails in anticipation of their friends' return. While lathering yourself with body wash, you noticed there was a tiny shampoo bottle, a courtesy of the hostel. You usually liked to take these bottles, because who knew if you would need it some time on your non planned trip? So, when you finished, you slipped it into your handbag. With a towel draped over your head in a lazy effort to dry your hair you stepped out of the bathroom, the boys hadn’t moved an inch.

Lunch time passed seeing no return of their friend. Yoongi hissed, “Where is he? Those assholes said he would be back by now.”

“We could check back at the beach to see if anyone remembers him or, perhaps, he forgot where the hostel was and is waiting there for us to find him.” Namjoon said, going to grab his hat and some sunscreen. The fear in correlation to their missing friend increased every hour that he didn’t return and you could practically see the hope in their eyes, each wish he would walk through the door unharmed.

“Guys, I think you need to see this?” Seokjin called, the young man had been trying to distract his worried hands, by fiddling with his phone, but, as a result he uncovered something interesting. Five of them piled onto the bed, peeking around the eldest at the phone which was narrow in ways Seokjin was not. “This is my Snapchat, there is Hoseok, but who is that guy?”

“He gave Hoseok this fidget cube which he then gave to me.” Jungkook said, blinking at the photo, trying to regain some clarity of the previous night. The pictures showed the group but in some there were some hooded figures looking at them occasionally and even pointing at Hoseok.

The boy was walking to the bar, the figures following him with their shadowed faces. He lent over the counter and was ordering drinks when a hooded figure said he would pay for them. The next part was Seokjin, talking to the camera about how handsome he is and apologizing to the world. Suddenly Hoseok, who had been smiling by the bar in the video turned to face the group, his bright smile falling. That was it, the video blurred and cut out. Leaving the group none the wiser but with a nagging suspicion that these men had some part in this.

They all looked at their Snapchat stories, each coming up with a few different angles throughout the night. “I got something!” Taehyung announced, screenshotting the image and zooming in. “A tattoo.”

“What does it look like?” Yoongi asked. Taehyung began drawing in his sketchbook which was filled with pages of the city he had worked on the days before. He scribbled what he saw.

“What can we do with this?” Jimin sighed. “It’s a squiggle at best”

“It could help identify the men.” Namjoon nodded, slumping back onto the bed. They all watched Taehyung sketch the tattoo slowly, “It looks like some sort of wonky A”

Those words made Jungkook’s ears prick up and he took a pen quickly. He got to work sketching the symbol onto the paper.

“Like this?” Jungkook asked.

“How did you know?” Taehyung nodded, looking amazed at the symbol and Jungkook turned the fidget spinner to the side with the symbol painted on near the switch.

“Someone gave Hoseok this, maybe this is what they are after?” Jungkook asked, confused.

“A fidget cube? Really?” Yoongi scoffed.

“Who would steal someone over a fidget cube?” Jimin wondered aloud, taking the cube and shaking it about, the group froze hearing a small rattle inside. Jimin shook it again near his ear.

“There is something inside!” Jimin looked up with wide eyes.

“Break it open!” Yoongi said, getting really curious.

“No, it might break whatever it is and if it really is what they are after, that might be the only way we can get Hoseok back!” Namjoon shouted, he was a voice of reason and logical thinking. He was processing these things meticulously and trying to piece together the entire situation. “There has to be a way to open it with a series of buttons or something?”

“Wait, if I press these buttons they click in and then when I flick the switch I can use them again.” Jungkook demonstrated how he got the buttons stuck.

“It will be a sequence, you might have to do it in a specific order and that will unlock it, the switch will be the reset to start again.” Jungkook nodded, sitting on the bed and began working on the buttons, trying a few different things and occupying his time with the device.

“We can’t sit here trying to open it while Hoseok is in danger.” Yoongi said. He was clearly more of a “doing” person, really impatient.

“In movies, they will interrogate him and then, when they get what they want, they will kill him.” You muttered, while picking up your phone that had been charging while you showered. Trying to get rid of the evidence that you had been using their room and all its amenities for yourself.

“Why are you still here?” Yoongi hissed, his sharp eyes turning on you. The underlying bitterness was towards his inability to act. This wasn’t something he could control and it made him angry.

“Hey I want to help you find your friend Hospice too!” It was true you were sincere in your desire to find their friend. You had very little memories from the previous night but you remember they were such a fun group.

There was a part of you who felt responsible for finding him as you had been present that evening, the other part of you felt a morbid curiosity that needed to know what happened. It was like when someone is falling and you are frozen in place and you can’t look away even though you know it is going to be bad.

“Hoseok” Another one hissed.

“Look, I am not good with names, but I want to help.” You opened your snapchat and watched through a few videos, hoping to come up with some sort of lead towards finding their friend. A video of Hoseok being escorted out by the men caught your attention, you bit your lip looking closer and seeing a gun pressed to his back.

In the video you had registered Hoseok leaving, but hadn’t noticed the weapon, you went to claim the free drinks he had left behind planning to carry them to the rest of the group and your camera caught him being led up the beach to the car parks where he was ushered into a vehicle. Thankfully there was a street lamp two cars down that illuminated the square and you were able to catch the registration on the number plate.

“I have evidence we can show the police!” You shouted, sitting up, “I got a number plate and a video of them taking José!”

“Hoseok” Jungkook huffed.

“Yes, him too. They had a gun.” You mumbled, picking up your handbag and joining the group heading back to the police station. The boys seemed a little more antsy since now they had evidence of trouble and would, perhaps, be able to trace the number plate and find their friend.

“Hello again, Mark. How have you been?” Making a beeline to his desk you sat down causing the officer to look up from his sandwich surprised.

“I have taken your statements but I can’t do anything else until he has been missing for 48 hours.” He added with a small sigh “My name is Michael, we met this morning.”

You turned the phone to him and showed the video, “Alright, I can look into it, there was some sort of fowl play. We will look up the number plate and see who it is registered to.”

“Okay, I hear that, Miles. Let’s look up that number plate!” You recited the number plate for him watching him type away on his computer eyeing his sandwich longingly. “29THD03”

He printed the information out and slipped it into a manilla folder that had placed all the statements from earlier that morning inside. “So, when will you head out to search for him?” You pressed

“Look we have policies and procedures and we have to get a warrant before we can barge into someone's house” The officer tried to placate everyone.

“That makes a lot of sense...” You said with a flat tone, you wanted that paper, time was of the essence in these situations. “Officer Macklemore, Jeremy was wondering while you were here if you could show him the cells, he always dreamed of being a police officer... Just while you're on your way filing the info”

You had grabbed Jimin’s shoulder and gave him a look before shoving him at the officer, the two walked away Jimin pretending to listen to the officer's ramblings. You followed the menu on the printer and reprinted the previous document, folding it and slipping it into your bra. Looking up to check if anyone had seen this action you caught sight of a tiny camera on the roof and flashed a peace sign.

The guys looked at you, realizing what you had done. Jungkook went to collect Jimin, and you called across the room. “Hey, Johnathon, we got to go back to the Hostel, we decided we will wait while Officer Mckenzy gets to work.”

“Again, it’s Michael.” The man mumbled sitting back at his desk and reaching for his sandwich with an almost relieved sigh.

“Right, sorry.” You ducked your head in an effort to apologize for things you did to and behind his back and practically ran from the police station.

“What is going on?” Jimin asked with a confused face. “I have never wanted to be a police officer”

“Y/n stole the plate details.” Namjoon explained as you all got back to the hostel.

“But the officer had them with me.” Jimin raised an eyebrow. Turning to look at you with a confused expression, he didn’t see you pickpocket and the man had promptly left with the folder so it was never out of his sight.

“Keep up Jin-” You scoffed, grabbing the document from your brassier and waved the square of paper around, before stashing it away again. “I printed it of course”

“Ya! That’s my name!” Seokjin accused.

“Oh, hell yeah! I am remembering slowly.” You grinned, taking the fidget cube from Jungkook who stopped in the middle of the road. Perhaps you could have a go at the cube, everyone had been trying all day to remember the sequence. Taking your time to each discuss the combinations and which ones went in when you did what.

“We have to go to the address, we can’t wait around. Hoseok could be hurt.” Jungkook muttered. “Or he could be about to get hurt and we can’t stand around and let that happen.

“We can’t rush in or more of us will get hurt.” Namjoon sighed, understanding the youngest passion and drive when it came to protecting his friends. But there was just so much risk that needed to be assessed and properly controlled before they could even think about moving. “We have to make some sort of plan first”

“Just me, I won’t go in, I will just look around carefully,” Jungkook said firmly.

“Look I will go with him, we will just take a look and call you if it's anything urgent, ok?” Yoongi said, holding out his hand. “Look I agree, there could be a chance that something is going to happen while we are planning and we could have prevented it, they could have a gun to Hobi’s head right now”

“Hoseok” You corrected and they all turned to you shocked “I know, I know, I got it wrong again”

“No, you got it right.” Jungkook gave you a reassuring smile.

“The point is the guns that they have and we don't, do you want to get shot?”

“I know the situation and I accept the consequences” Yoongi said looking you in the eye seriously and you let out an exasperated sigh.

Reaching down your shirt handing over the paper to Yoongi matching his serious expression with a fierce gaze “Fine, Juno you better listen to Yohan.” At that point, they just gave up on correcting you.

You had made sure to take a picture of the address, grabbing Yoongi’s hand before he could pull away. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Your eyes flickered to Jungkook. “Wait for the opportune moment.”

“How will we know it’s the right moment?” Jungkook asked.

“When your only thought is what is happening in that moment and you can’t sit still because your blood is pumping so fiercely.” You spoke, “That’s the moment.”

Parting ways, the now group of four continued onto the hostel, ready to sit down and make a plan. Upon entering the hostel, you waved at the receptionist “Hello, Opal.”

“Ah, no. Wrong again.” she grinned “It is Ruby.”

“Dang, wrong again. I thought I would remember this time. Sorry, darling.” your reply sounding sheepish.

“Oh, miss y/n, that man you were all asking about this morning returned, about twenty minutes ago, Hoseok” She smiled “He just went upstairs looking for you all”

“Really?” They cheered, briskly off to their room. You guess they let him go or didn’t need him anymore perhaps it was a misunderstanding and then needed someone else.

“The fidget cube in your hand seemed unimportant and more like a piece of junk now. Either way it was time for you to collect your things, you headed after them when Ruby continued.

“Yeah, he has a tattoo on his arm, right?” She asked and you froze mid step, turning fully to question her further “A sort of Squiggly A”

All the colour drained from your face, as you proceeded to run up the stairs and down the hall, trying to cut them off before they reached the room. You emerged from the stairwell and down the corridor you saw them passing through the intersecting halls “Shit, what was your name?”

“Jin!” You shouted desperate. He stopped as did Taehyung, the two looked at you, raising their eyebrows in confusion.

You grabbed them pulling them out of the hall, “Don’t go in there, it’s not Hoseok, it’s the tattoo guy.”

“We have to tell them!” Taehyung squirmed trying to break free of your grip.

“Don’t, you will get caught as well. Just wait, okay?” You growled, holding up the fidget device “We have the cube, they won’t hurt us, because they need us alive to tell them where it is.”

“This stupid thing” Jin snatches it and began pushing buttons and turning dials maniacally before throwing it to the ground and stomping it.

The thing broke and you all shrunk down, in shock. Had he ruined the only chance of saving the boys in a fit of rage. In the small chunks of rubber and plastic you found a small electronic key with an address. You looked at each other, surprised, until and you heard talking.

“We need to go” you whispered and two figures appeared around the corner with a restrained Jimin and Namjoon. The large figures looked down at the three of you and saw the broken cube with the exposed key you were currently frozen midst reaching towards.

Snatching the key off the floor, but it was too late, they had already seen it. Your eyes emanated fear as they were reaching for their weapons, Jimin threw his head back into the man's face and kicked the other man in the balls effectively rendering them imobile for a short enough time for you and the two boys to escape.

“Run!” He shouted, The three of you regretfully left Namjoon and Jimin behind and took off running down the hall and into the stairwell.

Heading out the reception, you stopped. “Ruby, go to the police station, ask for officer Mitchel, Murphy, Maxwell, whatever his name is and say y/n sent you. He has my number.”

“Ok!” she promptly said, looking kind of confused, but too scared by the words “police station” to even question it.

You and the boys ran out across the parking lot, stopping at the valet station and, although it was a hostel, it shared a parking block with the neighbouring hotel, so you looked at the list of guests, trying to find the same number plate as the one from your phone. It took a while, being in a rush didn’t really help, but when you found it, you snatched the keys from the key hook that was labeled with the same information and Hoseok’s name.

Pressing the alarm button on the electronic car key, a sleek black car across the parking lot sounded. Racing over to the vehicle you took no time at all jumping inside.

Driving recklessly away with panic printed on your faces. Jin searched the address printed on the key and began giving you directions. After several wrong turns, the three of you successfully crossed the town and arrived at the beach. More specifically the public change rooms, there were lockers lining the walls that could only be opened by a key, luckily they were labeled making it easy to find the right one.

Before you even got a chance to open it, a man called out to you three. They were here, your wrong turns had given them time to catch up. Slipping into the women’s toilets as fast as you could and began thinking about what to do. Looking at the key, you thought of swallowing it and paled. That was definitely not a good idea, but your next thoughts were also less ideal. There had to be something you could do. Desperately searching the contents of your small handbag you found the tiny shampoo bottle. Twisting off the lid you shoved the key inside and closed it back up. Here goes my free shampoo, you thought.

You stepped out hoping you could make it without getting caught but were unsuccessful. They stepped either side of you, a gun pressed to your lower back concealed. You freezed, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. It was pure adrenaline and fear, the top emotion of the day, you could say.

“Come with us.” The man said with a thick accent and you noticed he wasn’t Greek. They led you to a black van and pushed you inside. Jin and Taehyung were already in there, tied up and gagged.

“Where is the key?” They asked, grabbing you by your hair. It took everything not to scream from the shock of the situation and the aggressive confrontation from the men.

“I swallowed it.” You lied hoping you could throw them off for a while, the worst they could do is kill you and still come up empty for a key. Tears began running down your face from the searing pain on your scalp.

“Well, bring it back up or we will cut it out!” One of them said his breath was stronger than his heavy accent and you told them you couldn’t.

“We can wait darling, as long as we need. It will have to come out eventually.” One of them said with an evil sided grin which made him look like one of those film villains. You swallowed hard. The kidnappers started the van leaving you in the back, with two young men who looked at you apologetically.

Taken to a parking garage above a factory, you three offered little resistance, when they had tried you gave a small shake of your head in response to calm the boys. Even though you were tied up, you helped the kidnappers respectfully, knowing that the more cooperative you seemed, the more likely they were to relax their security.

Their leader was informed of your arrival as you were grouped together with Hoseok, Namjoon and Jimin. The leader was a scary man, you watched him turn to you with a cold glare. “You are a strange young lady, swallowing a key. Do you know how much it is worth?” You shrugged, not exactly knowing how to respond to that statement. “That key leads to 8 million American dollars.”

“If you let them go, I will happily give you the key.” You tried to negotiate, it was a good bargain. They got what they wanted and you got to leave.

“We cannot. Your friends would inform the police.”

“No, they wouldn’t, they don’t even know me and they don’t care. I can’t even remember their names” you said “I just needed a free place to stay and ended up drunk in their hostel.” You explained yourself, trying to be convincing. “That’s why my handbag is full of their stuff. I stole shampoo, a lanyard, I even stole narlo’s wallet. Take a look, if you want proof.”

They upturned the handbag and Namjoon gasped “You stole my wallet.”

You hadn’t the heart to tell him you actually had been picking up after the clumsy young man. He had dropped it as you were heading back to the hostel. Everyone was eating frozen yoghurt so you placed it in your bag to free your hands for eating.

“So, I will give you this key if you knock them out and dump them back at their hostel, I don’t want them finding or reporting me.” You grinned and tried to put up your best confident face.

“Or I could shoot you?” You rolled your eyes at that, but regretted that action as soon as you saw his angry eyes looking right at you, making yours widen. He was angry and you knew that he was contemplating ripping your stomach open for a key that wasn’t even in your stomach.

“Fine, I will regurgitate the key, but you have to untie me first. You over there, get me a litre of water; you, sir, find me a bucket and, hum, some tissues or a towel.” you bluffed, trying to send some of the guards away.

“I will need some sort of, uh, music playing so I can relax my throat.” You said proud of your ability to improvise in this situation. Even more surprisingly, they were all cooperative, moving to find the items. While the leader came over to untie you, Yoongi and Jungkook appeared out of nowhere hitting his head with a baseball bat, which you have no idea where they got it from, what knocked the man out, so they took his gun. You told them to hide his body and, while they did it, you finished uniting yourself.

“I didn’t steal your wallet, Namjoon. You dropped it.” You breathed, taking your phone and quickly sending officer Michael a location drop, accompanied by the words ‘hostage’ and ‘guns’. You turned the phone off and sighed, taking out the fake torch from your bag, which was actually a taser. A woman gotta be prepared, right? Especially when they are backpacking on their lonesome, you had heard about many backpacker murders and you weren’t going to be one.

When a man came back with a bucket, you acted quickly using the taser while Yoongi and Jungkook took the man away, almost getting caught when two other men came back, one with water and the other with a towel.

Yoongi had blended in, sitting with the guys and pretending to be tied up while secretly cutting their ropes. Taking your bag and shoving everything back inside, you shoved the mini shampoo bottle in your pocket.

“Can I have a cup as well? It will be easier to drink it from a cup.” One of the men had left and, at this point, you had three unconscious men and three guns. How could they be criminals if they were that imbecile? Armed, you all began your escape when two of the guards came back; you were faster to draw your -albeit stolen- weapons, but they caused quite the commotion. You guys were really lucky not to get one scratch.

There were more men coming, your hands were shaking, but you were able to take their guns quickly and run. You were running around cars and pedestrians while being chased. Screams were heard as people started to notice the guns and some bullets flying. They started to run and it helped you guys to kind of blend in. Once on the ground floor, you ran through a factory of some type of food. Dodging men and bullets, the place was manic.

Running towards shelves upon shelves of stock, you each stopped grabbing a few boxes from the stack. The stock would have been five boxes wide and four boxes high but when you quietly moved some of the stock you made a small place to stand using the boxes as a little box fort.

Soon hidden from view, alone and quiet, you hoped all the boys were safe as well. Hoseok was behind a stack of boxes across the aisle and Jin two stacks down. Other than that you knew Yoongi and Taehyung had run off together and Namjoon Jin and Jimin went of aswell.

You turned your phone on, thankful for silent mode and for having charged it before leaving the hostel. Taking no time at all to call the police officer with your trembling hands. He was probably waiting for news, as he answered quickly. He said he was on his way and it would have made you feel better and calm down, but you heard the bad men getting closer.

You cowered, not a very heroic ending you had to admit but it was safe. The police had to be here soon-

SNEEZE.

The burn in your nose from the cardboard dust caused you to sneeze quiet loudly, the footsteps grew closer and just as you thought you were toast. The police arrived, restraining and arresting all the men involved. Each emerging from their hiding spot, you ran to the group of boys. Tears running down your face because honestly you were under so much stress that you needed to release it someway.

In the midst of all the relief and left over adrenaline, you grabbed a frightened and lethargic Hoseok gently by his slightly bruised face and kissed him. He was shocked at first, definitely not expecting that. He had almost no recollection of meeting you and so to have some stranger plant a firm kiss on his lips as if to balm his wounds especially after such a traumatic event was mind boggling.

The poor guy had been through a lot. Actually not only him, but all of you. Without hesitation you turned to each of them, planting a firm kiss on their lips, shocked when some kissed back, held your waist or even when Jungkook surprised you by cupping the back of your head and kissing you before you could kiss him.

“Sorry to break up the, uh, lovely moment, but where exactly is this key?” The officer asked, scratching his head.

“She swallowed it” Jungkook gestured to you and the officer raised his eyebrows concerned but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It is in the shampoo bottle” You emptied out the shampoo bottle and threw the valuable item to the police officer.

After everything that you guys had been through that day, it was common sense that you would be skipping the festivities on the beach that night. Instead staying inside the hostel and talking was the best option to end the day. You treated Hoseok's wounds and laid on the spare bunk. Namjoon was in a debate with Taehyung about whether a person should eat their favourite food for every meal.

You had decided to join holidays and backpack together for yours and their safety, it was all a wholesome way to spend a rather scary day. The group were planning where they would travel next when Jin stepped out of the shower and frowned “I think we are out of shampoo.”

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otomescriptdoctor · 3 years

Text

Masking - Chapter 1

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939147/chapters/68422182 The door shuts behind you. You work on adjusting your gait as your approach The Boss. It’s not often that you get to work on a mission together.

Your target is the British Diplomat, Kei Soejima. He’s an odd character, a British man with blond hair and piercing brown eyes who somehow has a Japanese name. He runs in some rather broad circles for a diplomat, and your employer, Edmund and Company, suspects that he is actually an MI6 asset. He is suspected to be an Alpha given the company he keeps. Diplomats are a convenient cover for an agent, one role that you have yet to play since EAC works on a global scale and doesn’t limit its operations to one governmental relationship.

You were chosen for this mission because of your presentation as an Omega. You’ve always been able to perform your missions flawlessly, but you’ve never been sent out during one of your heats. You’ve held a torch for the Boss for years, harboring a small crush, but never acted on it because you valued your professionalism above all else. Very few Omegas have been as successful as you have been in espionage. It’s always been betas, deltas, or gammas in the organization. Having someone with potent natural hormones is a liability, but your dedication to the cause - your thirst for justice in the world - has helped you keep your hindbrain under lock and key. And of course, suppressants help.

Your switch, the perfume you sprayed on your mating gland at the nape of your neck, contains a suppressant that is more for your benefit than the mission’s- but you’re not keen on falling victim to the Boss’s Alpha scent. It’s strange. His scent is interesting, but doesn’t seem to change. But that’s why you found comfort in the Boss when he first met you. You push those thoughts from your mind. You are here as Nagisa Misaki. To attend a party at a members-only restaurant at the base of the Raven Resort in Tokyo.

The Boss greets you warmly, “You’re right on time, Nagisa! Are you ready?” Your smile comes automatically. He offers you his arm, you feel your pulse quickening. You’re finally getting to be near the Boss again. He sweeps you into a quick hug. His scent is exactly as you remember it from when you first became an EAC agent years ago. The party you are infiltrating is couples-only. You walk in as a team, heels clacking on the travertine floors leading to the restaurant proper. It feels good, but not quite right. As if sensing your hesitation, the Boss says, “Let’s make tonight a good one.” You push that thought from your hindbrain back down as you cross the threshold.

The doors lead into a carpeted, tiered space facing a stage with vintage footlights ringing the apron’s downstage edge. There’s a band onstage, playing classic ballroom music. The tables scattered throughout remind you of stars, with their small votive candles flickering on the rich burgundy tablecloths. You and the Boss turn to each other and nod, deciding to split up and mingle amongst the other couples present at tonight’s masquerade ball. His hand raises up to graze against your earrings - a gift from him, but also a tool in your arsenal. He activates the switch on them, allowing your conversations to be recorded from this point on. The warmth from his fingertips lingers on your ear. You remember when he saved you from certain harm while studying abroad in America. You had only just started presenting at that time. His quick thinking saved you. By chance, you met again when you applied to work for EAC. His calm demeanor has spurred you on to greatness within the organization through several assignments. But tonight is your most complex mission yet.

The suppressants in your perfume are not like any normal masking agent. You’ve always taken advantage of the scent you produce as an unmated Omega. Many of your targets in the past have been Alphas tripping over themselves to rut with you. This suppressant is just to help take the edge off - you know it’s almost a suicidal mission to walk into a club that is potentially full of Alphas in this state, but there was little you could do. It’s time to see if your mental control over your instincts is as complete as you thought it was.

While the Boss goes to get some drinks from the bar, you work on gliding through the crowds of people, scanning the tables for your target. You spy the party’s host, Kazuomi Shido -- even in a mask, he simply cannot hide -- surrounded by curious women trying to peek at his face. It’s clear from his scent that he is an Alpha; he smells of too many womens’ perfumes though. You search your memory: he’s a close friend of Kei’s according to the dossier. They went to school together. He’s called the “Resort King” on account of his preferred line of work. He exudes the seductive confidence of a strong Alpha. You spy his head turning just so - did he catch your scent? No, it’s his friend, another Alpha.

This one smells like a cool, brisk breeze. You overhear him grumbling, “I have no interest in cheap flirts,” while trying to fight off some of the women hanging around Kazuomi. You recognize him as Yuzuru Shiba, the CEO of the tech corporation bearing his name. He’s also been a long time friend of Kei Soejima. And, another Alpha. You silently thank your lucky stars that you applied the suppressant. His severe black turtleneck sends a vibe that he’s a heartless, unforgiving man. Being mated to someone like that would be a fate worse than death.

Suddenly there is a sweet smell, like incense filling the air. The smell is incredible. There are notes of sandalwood, frankincense, and myrrh. The smell evokes warm, spicy notes intermingling with the floral and earthy notes to overpower you. It’s definitely another Alpha. It takes every fiber of your being to resist salivating. You turn your head, and discover the source of the smell. It’s emanating from a familiar blond, refined man. The one from your dossier. He turns to the unmasked lady by his side, extending a hand.

“Let’s get together later for a chat over tea.” Soejima’s British accent combined with the smell sets your heart fluttering. But Alpha’s attention is on her. You resolve to get closer to listen in. The woman snorts derisively, “Really, you’re not going to “forget” you said that when the party’s over?” Soejima replies, ever the charmer, “I don’t make empty promises, you took off your mask for me. I can’t wait to see you again.” You notice his hand never quite touches her, though he could make contact any time he wanted to. He’s acting the perfect gentleman. You make the mental note that his demeanor and accent track with his privileged upbringing. While everyone here tonight is wearing a mask and committed to hiding behind them, he feels different somehow. Like the seedy nightclub vibe of the rest of the restaurant simply doesn’t hit him, as if he is in his own bubble of rarified air. You imagine he has sophisticated tastes, and wouldn’t be tempted by the normal feminine wiles. You wonder, as you take in his scent, what will he fall for?

Need to check in with the Boss. Your head turns to look for him until you get the distinct sense that you are being watched instead. You turn back to find Kei Soejima’s smiling eyes gazing at you. Your hindbrain floods you with pleasure, at Alpha finally noticing you. Your Alpha. You shake your head, you know better; though part of you desperately wants to get the wrong idea about this. Just as you think of how to respond, the lights immediately dim.

A voice rings out from the sound system, “It’s time for what you’ve all been waiting for, your date with destiny, our one-night-only swap!” You see a lot of perked-up head turning at this development as the band plays a slow song. People are finding new partners. Typical rich people crap. You finally locate the Boss, but he's already deep in conversation with that woman Soejima unmasked earlier. He's facing you, and his eyes briefly meet yours, as if to say, "It's showtime. Have fun." He must have planned for this.

Again you feel the intensity of being watched. You look around, but no one seems to be approaching you. Were your instincts wrong? No. Kei Soejima is staring at you. His brown eyes piercing into your soul. As he moves toward you, you're reminded immediately of a predator stalking its prey. Your Omega hindbrain urges you to preen and attract this Alpha. He could help you through this heat. Every step is methodical, as if he's testing your reaction with each step. When he's finally in front of you, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Soejima smiles-- a mysteriously gentle smirk. The kind of expression of restrained amusement you'd imagine a prince bestows upon a subject. You don't often get to see foreigners with perfect glassy skin. The dossier wasn't kidding about him being called Prince Charming. You're not used to feeling this vulnerable, this first mission where you're in heat. Not only that, but his scent is invading every sense. You look away, trying to regain your composure. Nagisa Misaki isn't in her heat. You are.

Cool fingers wrap around your hand, and your warmth sinks into his icy grip. He brings your hand up to face level, politely asking, "May I have this dance?"

With a racing pulse, you focus everything on maintaining your cover. Nagisa would be pleased to catch the eye of a gentleman. You’re thankful to hear your voice respond, "Sure, it would be my pleasure."

He starts moving, his arm effortlessly drawing around your waist. Your etiquette and dancing training kick in, your hand going to his shoulder. Ever so thankful that your muscle memory never lets you down. The music shifts into a livelier waltz and Soejima leads you across the floor. Normally, you'd flush with pride at making contact so quickly, but his scent hijacks your thought train. You never once used your body when setting honey traps, just your formidable assets as an unmated Omega. But you feel your resolve crack, just a little.

His voice is low, and sensual. “It’s an honor to dance with someone as lovely as you." Your eyes flit to his, and you see they have appreciably darkened as he has spent time in your presence. It seems that he is also affected by you. This little fact gives your rational mind a leg up on maintaining your alias.

You laugh gently, “Very funny, you’re obviously handsome enough to have any woman here." And yet, alpha has us in his arms. As if in response to that thought, he draws you closer and his hand creeps to the skin bared by your backless dress. Oh, how it burns at his icy touch. You shiver. He’s a well trained dancer, leading you perfectly. His smell is just so different from the rest of the party.

Some part of you wants this Alpha. Badly. The scent is exotic, and your mind wanders, trying to place it. The Boss's scent is the predictable musk you've come to expect from an Alpha, and is remarkably consistent, like he has a tight lid on his instincts. But Soejima, oh, distinctive doesn't begin to describe the smell. It reminds you of a church when they burn incense. Clean, reverent, and urging the willing to supplication. You notice an uncomfortable dampness in your panties. Might be more willing than you thought.

“Is he your date for the night?” His voice is tinged with jealousy, as he draws his face close to yours, close enough for his hair to brush your cheek. He must be talking about the Boss. Your Omega wants to say no, he's not - because I am yours.

Instead, you reply with a simple, “Yes.” Your eyes wander to find the Boss. You see the Boss dancing flirtatiously with the woman from before. You feel small pangs of jealousy and betrayal. Boss was never your Alpha, but your rational mind can't help the feelings. Your Omega is working against your resolve, urging you to secure the Alpha holding you.

“Haha, you look like you miss him.” Soejima's hands pull you closer. Your heart beats faster. No way he read you like that. Absolutely no way, you'd only just met. Can he actually feel how your heart is hammering away in your chest? You look back in his eyes, he's much too close for comfort. You manage to string together a response. But just barely. “Really, how about you? You don’t miss your date?”

His eyes crinkle in delight. “On the contrary, she and I only just met. But you on the other hand…" He dips you, so you catch an eyeful of the Boss's heated dancing with Soejima's date. His strong arms return you to a much closer position. He murmurs, "it seems you’ve known that man for quite a while.” Your Omega picks up on the jealous pangs in the scent.

Don't displease Alpha. Submit.

Your Omega has never been so forceful before. Your brain scrambles to remember your script.

“Yes, we’re old friends, I told him I was interested in getting more involved with...charity work and he brought me to this party. He said it would be a good way to make connections.” Thankful for your training in acting, you rely on your rehearsed response while fighting for control.

Soejima brings his mouth to your ear, and you shiver. “A friend, huh…”

A stark contrast to his icy touch. His breath is warm. Too warm.

You pull away, your speech threatening to stammer. “But I didn’t have a clue what kind of party this was going to be. I’ve got to admit I’m kind of surprised. Especially with all the partner swapping stuff.” You swallow, hoping to abate that awful dry feeling. His lips look so inviting.

“You came to the party with a special friend and now you’re dancing with another man," he replies. With a laugh, he continues,"Guess that makes me a homewrecker.”

You snort. “A homewrecker, huh? Haha, that’s a laugh."

“How does it feel, knowing your ‘friend’ can see you in the arms of another man?” You notice he barely repressed a sneer when referring to your former date. Your focus drifts to the Boss. he’s still dancing with the other lady. You don’t feel good.

Suddenly, you're turned around by Soejima and he whispers to you, “Why don’t we make him a little jealous? Men always want what they can’t have.” He gently nibbles your ear to punctuate his statement. Barely noticeable to others, but it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine.

Your eyes look over his shoulder making eye contact with the Boss. It feels like you're dancing with Boss’s eyes and Soejima’s voice. His eyes normally have no emotion, but you swear you saw a tiny flicker of jealousy. He's always been insanely observant.

While you are pleased to elicit even a tiny reaction out of the Boss, you feel a little guilty about your earrings. Recording such a personal conversation feels embarrassing. You remind yourself that it's just the societal pressures of living in Japan that are making you feel this way. Soejima is from a western country, their women and men are far more forward in conversations like this.

Soejima's low voice rumbles through your ear, “But your friend, he underestimates you..” Caught you off guard. “Oh?” “He’s a little too certain you’ll never have eyes for another man, yet you’re an unmated Omega.” You didn't say anything about your status.

We can't hide from Alpha.

He wraps an arm around your neck, taking the lead. Your Omega succeeds in hijacking control, and you nuzzle into his neck. His scent is intoxicating. You can feel his throaty laughter.

“Oh you would do that”, he says, his voice husky.

“What?"

“Out of sight out of mind, right? You show him who’s boss.” He brings his lips to your exposed left ear, the one without a microphone. You damn your Omega for hiding your equipment in his shoulder.

“Sometimes flings that were supposed to be temporary can turn into something real. You seem like a girl who falls hard when she falls for a guy. Once another man dominates you, you’re hooked for good, huh?" His seductive whisper, sweet as honey, holds dark promises.

You balk at the idea of being dominated. You have always been the one in control.

But this is your Alpha.

No he's not. He's not your Alpha, you insist.

But he could be. Alpha is very interested in us.

“You said he’s a friend, if he’s still just a friend, perhaps that means there’s an opportunity for me to sink my hooks in you...or perhaps you would prefer my teeth?" His silky voice is mischievous, and he says the next part so softly into your ear, to keep anyone else from hearing. His voice sends electricity through your veins.

Alpha is offering his bite.

Stop it, stop it, stop it, you scream internally. This is an intelligence target. This is not courtship of any kind. You pull back to gauge his reaction. His earlier words echo in your mind. "Men always want what they can't have."

Do they? Do they always?

“There might be...a possibility.” The words tumble out faster than you expect. “You’re right, feelings can change, especially when someone particularly alluring is involved.” Your hindbrain had taken over. Were the suppressants wearing off?

His sigh of relief tickles your ear, “I’m happy to hear that." Your Omega nature purrs with pleasure internally. Your mind thinks about your loyalty to the Boss, and struggles, a little. You held a candle to him for so long.

Soejima's masked face fills your vision. Black and gold satin framing his perfect glassy brown eyes, reflecting only you. His pupils are dilated.

His voice is practically a growl, “It’s official. Now I really want to lay claim to you.” That gets your attention. Then he brushes by your lips in a most natural feeling kiss. It's a brief, perfect moment that leaves you breathless.

The music starts winding down, and he pulls away. Your skin burns with a heat that suddenly has nowhere else to go. The cool air of the lounge causes you to shiver. Soejima's eyes still glitter when looking at you.

“You said you were interested in charity. If you’d like we can continue this here.”

His arm only releases you to fish out a business card from his inside pocket of his jacket. He removes his mask. You’ve seen his face before, but up close it’s stunning. Anyone could get lost in those warm brown eyes.

He grins, “I probably shouldn’t be revealing myself at a masquerade party. This is against the rules. Keep it our little secret, pet." He winks, and presses an index finger to his lips. He looks...deliciously naughty in the moment. You're thankful your lacy mask covers the burn you feel in your cheeks.

The overhead lights get brighter, signalling the end of the night. His face goes back to a neutral dispassionate expression, like an image of Prince Charming. This is the face from the dossier. You find yourself struggling to reconcile the two natures he presented to you.

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips to give your knuckles a polite kiss. Eyes meeting yours through his long blond eyelashes as he says, “I'll see you later, and remember… the path to paradise begins in hell.” Something sensual and devilish flickers across his eyes. He takes his leave and his footsteps fade from your detection.

Your brain swims in confusion. What are paradise and hell supposed to mean? What just happened? You can still hear him whispering about making you his. Sinking in his hooks. Giving you his teeth. His Bite. The memory of his exquisite scent overwhelms you. This is the first time a target made a hell of an impression, as if he never left. You shake your head to chase the shadow from your mind. Gotta go back to the Boss. You stop dead in your tracks. You realize you didn’t think about the Boss at all since Seojima kissed you, until that formidable Alpha left.

You take a deep centering breath, and exhale with a big shudder. No sign of him anywhere. His previously comforting scent is long gone. Well, he must have seen you with Soejima, and left. Pangs of loneliness shoot through your consciousness. No no, it makes sense, you're rationalizing desperately. You completed the mission for the night, you can leave.

As if he was still there whispering to you, Soejima's words echo in your mind: He underestimates you.

#masquerade kiss #fanfic #soejima #kei soejima #2nd person #also on ao3 #voltage otome

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missjanjie · 4 years

Text

Like a Million Dollar Bill | Jessence

Title: Like a Million Dollar Bill Summary: Jaida has recently come to terms with being a widow after her husband suddenly passed under totally normal and not at all suspicious circumstances. As the sole heir, she also suddenly finds herself richer than she could ever imagine. But she doesn't stay a lonely widow for long, as one night at her friend's lounge brings a woman into her life that might even be more valuable than her fortune. Word Count: ~3.2k Relationship(s): Jessence (Jan Sport/Jaida Essence Hall) Rating: E Notes: this is my submission for the black girl magic fic challenge so a note for that is the title is from the song 'million dollar bill' by whitney houston. also big thanks to @janssports for beta-ing

Read on AO3

“That finalizes everything, Mrs. Whitham, and again, I am so sorry for your loss.” The man from the probate court shook Jaida’s hand before she got up to leave.

Jaida did her best to maintain the miserable expression she had on through the funeral. She thought about the disdain she felt when the man used her married name, how desperate she was to regain her sense of individual identity. She was free, only if she played her cards right. But this was a long time coming, to say the least. “Thank you so much, sir.” She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief before leaving the room.

Sitting on a bench in the hallway was her younger sister, Heidi. She got up and took her hand. “You good?” she asked gently, coming off as nothing more than the concerned sibling of a grieving widow. But the look in her eyes reminded Jaida that she knew. She knew it all. Someone had to, lest the burden of keeping a secret became overwhelming and came out to the wrong person.

And Jaida continued to play her role, standing upright and swallowing thickly, because she was just struggling to stay strong. “I will be,” she said with a tremor in her voice.

“Who did he appoint as the…” Heidi furrowed her brows as she wracked her brain. “What’s the word again? For the person that’s gonna transfer his funds to you?”

“Executor,” she answered. “And it’s his sister, lord help me.” She sighed. Her deceased husband’s family had never been fond of her - due both to the twenty-year gap that existed in their relationship and outright racism. The only upside to that was no one outside the family took their complaints very seriously, but that didn’t mean she was at all happy to have to deal with her. “Anyway, I’m gonna go to Shea’s lounge tonight. She’s got a new singer, should be cute. You wanna come?”

Her sister shook her head. “Naw, I gotta get my ass up early to finish packing. Gonna take some time to move into that fancy-ass mansion.” She chuckled. It might not have been the best time to be visibly excited, but she was so thrilled to get herself and her dogs out of her one bedroom, seven hundred square-foot apartment.

“Suit yourself.” Jaida shrugged as she pulled her coat on. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

------

The lounge Shea owned was chic, calm, a place Jaida would probably still frequent if it wasn’t her best friend’s pride and joy. It was the type of place where she could dress up to go to, without feeling like she had to be on her best, most reserved behavior. And after all of the day’s events, she just wanted to relax, entering the club and making a beeline to her friend.

“Hey, I’m so glad you made it!” Shea beamed, hugging her tightly. “Just wait until you see our new act. She’s fresh out of university with a fancy musical theatre degree, and the bitch can sing. It’s fucking angelic, Jaida.” She didn’t mention Jaida’s husband’s death at that moment. While she didn’t know exactly what happened, she knew how miserable Jaida had been, how there hadn’t been any love between them in god knows how long. She knew how poorly he treated her and that his death probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Jaida chuckled, walking with her to the bar while Shea ordered them a couple of drinks. “Damn, you really hyped her up, I’m gonna just take your word on it,” she assured, taking a sip of her drink when the bartender placed it beside her.

“Just come on, her set’s about to start,” Shea threw some money down on the counter and pulled Jaida along to one of the velvet couches so they could sit and watch.

Jan walked onto the stage, the spotlight framing her perfectly. She wore a strapless wine-red dress that just hit the ground and was tailored perfectly to her body, accentuating her curves while giving her an air of elegance one would expect from an upscale lounge singer. And her voice was as enchanting as Shea had talked it up to be and then some. There was no doubt that every patron of that lounge had their attention fixed solely on the stage.

“So, what do you think?” Shea asked once the first song had ended.

Jaida grinned, her gaze never breaking away from the singer. “I think I’m in love,” she retorted.

Her friend looked at her and let out a soft laugh. “What, are you following in your husband’s–may he rest in peace–footsteps? She’s twenty-two.”

“Bitch, I’m forty, not eighty. This is a new chapter in my life, who’s to say I can’t include a hot twenty-something in it?” Jaida scoffed.

Shea finished off her drink. “You know what? I respect that. I’ll introduce you two once she’s done,” she decided.

And true to her word, Shea took Jaida backstage once Jan’s set was over. “Wonderful job, darling,” she said as she walked in. “Jan, I’d like you to meet my dear friend, Jaida. We met when we were both in college, so, back when we were about your age.”

Jan looked at Jaida, tilting her head. “Well, how’s that possible when you’re clearly not a day over twenty-five?”

Shea rolled her eyes. “Oh lord, I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said and left the two of them alone.

Jaida chuckled. “Don’t you worry about her,” she said to Jan. “But anyway, you really were fantastic out there. That fancy college degree I keep hearing about did you well.”

Jan smiled, absentmindedly twirling her hair around her finger. “Why thank you. With all the debt it plunged me into, it better.”

The older woman clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Shit, how far in the hole are you?”

“About thirty grand.”

Jaida glanced around, then sat down beside Jan. “Listen, don’t go telling nobody, but I got you. I’m a couple days away from coming into a lot of money, like, well into seven figures.” She didn’t give a specific number because she wasn’t entirely sure how it all worked, but she could hire someone to explain it to her.

Jan’s eyes went wide and her jaw hung open. “A-Are you sure? I mean, thank you, that’s so kind. But if you don’t mind me asking… How’d you come into that kind of money?”

“Inheritance,” she replied, biting back a smirk.

“That’s just… incredible. If there’s anything I can do to thank you…”

Jaida waved her hand, brushing the suggestion off. “You don’t have to do anything. But I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to let me buy you a drink when you’re done for the night.”

Jan fluttered her eyelashes and shifted closer to her. “Of course, I was hoping this might be a little more than a random philanthropic act.”

This brought a feeling of relief to Jaida, the last thing she wanted was for Jan to feel obligated to express romantic or sexual interest in her. “I’ll see you on the other side, then,” she hummed as she got up and returned to the lounge, ready to watch Jan on stage for the rest of her shift. The only time her gaze broke was to text her driver to be on his way.

And once it ended, the two of them reconvened at the bar, with Jaida ordering them both a drink. “So, have you always been a singer?” she asked casually.

“Oh yeah, since I was four.” Jan chuckled. “At the end of the day there was just no other choice for me.”

“I like a girl that knows what she wants out of life,” Jaida mused, taking the glass once it was set down in front of her and sipping from it.

Jan smiled, lips just barely pursed around the rim of the glass. She sipped slowly, then set it down as she looked at her. “Then tell me,” she prompted, “what do you want?” She leaned ever so slightly closer, a sultry air lacing around her words.

Jaida smirked, pointedly looking her over. “Something about five-foot-four, brown eyes, voice of an angel…” she listed, voice trailing off as she spoke. “You know, something along those lines.”

Jan set her glass down once it was empty. “You better be taking that something back to your place then,” she replied simply.

“I intend on it,” she hummed. “You ever been in a Rolls Royce?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

Jaida grinned, leaving cash down for the bartender before getting up. “Come, Ralph is waiting out back for us.”

Jan tilted her head as she followed. “Ralph?”

“My driver. I inherited the staff as well, but they all liked me better anyway.” She chuckled as they went outside and stepped into the car, exchanging casual greetings with the driver.

While Jan did try to keep her attention on Jaida, she was distracted by how luxurious and pristine the car was, and when they pulled up to Jaida’s house, her eyes went wide. “This is where you live?” she gasped softly.

“Not too shabby, huh?” Jaida hummed as they got out of the car. “A lot of the staff lives here, no point in having a bunch of empty rooms. And my sister’s moving in tomorrow,” she explained, leading her inside.

Jan was trying her best to listen, but taking in everything around her meant her focus was being pulled in six different directions. It reminded her of her first time in Manhattan — everything was big and shiny, but she didn’t think she could touch anything yet. The first thing her hand felt was the railing of the spiral staircase she was following Jaida up.

“And this is my room. It could do with an update, I ain’t gonna lie. But she’s comfy and spacious, can’t really complain.” Jaida hummed. She had been the one that had pushed for such a big bed, and although she was quick to adjust to sleeping in it alone, she was more than happy to bring in new company. She turned to see that Jan had taken off her shoes and thrown herself onto the bed, sprawled out on her back and giggling softly to herself. “Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Sorry, it just looked so inviting. I couldn’t help myself,” Jan replied, sitting back up.

Jaida smiled as she toed out of her heels. “I’m not mad, you look good in my bed.” She hummed, letting her eyes rake over Jan’s body.

“I’d look even better up close,” she cooed, beckoning Jaida closer with a curl of her finger.

“You know, I think you’re right.” Jaida chuckled as she crawled onto the bed, then on top of Jan, straddling her waist as she kissed along her jawline.

Jan tilted her head back, baring her neck as Jaida’s lips traveled down it. A breathy gasp slipped out when Jaida began littering her neck with hickies until she finally moved up to kiss her properly.

Jaida kissed her hard, deeply. It was the first kiss in years that made her feel so alive, that made her keep going back for more because the taste of her lips became instantly addictive. Her fingers tangled in Jan’s hair, pulling her head closer while her free hand unzipped the younger woman’s dress.

Jan wiggled out of her dress, not wanting to have to break away from Jaida to take it off properly. Her hand wandered across Jaida’s back until she felt the metal of the zipper under her thumb, then unzipped the dress in a swift movement.

When they did have to come up for air, Jaida took another look at the girl beneath her. “You always wear lingerie like this under your work clothes?” she teased, her finger tracing along the outline of Jan’s lacy, strapless bra.

“It helps me stay in the zone. You know, the soft, sultry lounge singer.” She hummed, walking her fingers up Jaida’s arm. “And it seems to have worked,” she added, her fingers stopping on Jaida’s bra strap and playfully tugging it down.

“Guess you got me there,” Jaida murmured, pressing another kiss to her lips as she unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Her hands glided forward, cupping Jan’s breasts with her thumbs massaging her nipples at a teasingly slow pace, smirking when it elicited a soft moan. She trailed her lips back down Jan’s neck, to her collarbone, then between her breasts.

Jan’s back arched up, body already yearning for more touch, and whimpering softly when she felt Jaida’s tongue swirling around her nipple. Her thighs instinctively parted as soon as Jaida pulled her panties down, but she was past the point of feeling any sort of embarrassment - she knew what she wanted and was ready for it.

And who was Jaida to do anything but give right in? After finally undressing herself, she nudged Jan’s thighs apart with her hand, then gently traced her finger along her folds. She eased one finger in first, curling and pumping it slowly, her eyes trained on Jan’s face, watching her get more and more worked up. “That’s it, good girl,” she murmured as she worked in a second finger and built up her pace. She looked down with amusement when she saw how Jan was thrusting her hips forward, as if she was trying to fuck herself on her fingers. “And so eager,” she teased.

“Just love the way you make me feel, Mommy,” Jan purred in a way that sent chills up Jaida’s spine.

Jaida smirked and leaned over to kiss her. “Cute,” she murmured before moving down between Jan’s legs and, before Jan could offer any response, she replaced her fingers with her tongue, thrusting it and swirling it around.

“F-Fuck!” Jan gasped out sharply, hips pushing up again. Her hands gripped the comforter beneath her, knuckles turning white from the tightness of her hold.

And Jaida was only encouraged by that. Her tongue moved steadily and swiftly while her thumb rubbed at her clit. Her free hand kept her balanced by gripping onto Jan’s thigh, which helped keep Jan in place as well.

Jan was trembling and moaning, her body was red hot and she could feel her pulse racing. Her eyes squeezed shut and her hips bucked up despite Jaida’s grip. “A-Ah, fuck!” she nearly yelled as her orgasm hit.

It was only after Jaida was certain Jan was fully spent that she came up for air. “That good, baby?” she cooed, running her hands up and down Jan’s body.

Jan felt like her soul had left her body, feeling completely numb and utterly spent in the best possible way. “So good,” she breathed out. Once she regained the ability to remember how to move, she sat up. “Let me take care of you,” she whispered, and was already pushing Jaida onto the bed before she could get an answer.

Not that Jaida would’ve ever dreamed of objecting. She laid back with her legs propped apart to give her room, and tried her best to watch her, but the second she felt Jan’s tongue against her pussy and easing its way in, her eyes fluttered shut and her body shuddered in pleasure. She supposed it didn’t surprise her that Jan was talented any way she used her mouth, but god, that girl was an overachiever.

And Jan was nothing if not eager to please. She didn’t let up for a second, not until Jaida came as hard as she had, and even after that, she lingered for a moment, just in case. Then she moved back up Jaida’s body and kissed her sweetly.

Jaida hummed contently and wrapped her arms around Jan. “That was so good, baby,” she praised gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before shifting so they could be under the covers. “Think you’re about ready to call it a night?”

Jan nodded, letting out a soft yawn. “God, I’m gonna sleep so well tonight,” she murmured as she nestled herself against Jaida.

“I sure hope so,” she retorted lightly as her eyes closed.

------

The housekeeper let Heidi in that morning, and Heidi didn’t think much of it. She knew her sister had never been a morning person, and they never did set a time for her to come over. Considering she didn’t need to bring any furniture, the transition to moving in was easily handled by herself, with some help from the security guard - she could only go up and down that long staircase so many times with arms full of luggage.

Once she was more or less settled in, Heidi went back downstairs to go into the kitchen with the intent of raiding Jaida’s fridge for some breakfast. What she didn’t expect to see was a white girl in one of her sister’s silk robes leaning against the counter and drinking coffee. “Now who in the fresh hell are you?”

Jan was unphased by this. “I’m Jan,” she answered. “You must be Heidi, Jaida’s told me so much about you.”

“Well she ain’t tell me shit about you, so my question remains unanswered,” she said bluntly.

“Right, that makes sense, since we just met last night,” Jan mused. “Anyway, I know you’re just moving in and stuff, I’ll go let Jaida know you’re here.” She finished her coffee and put the empty mug in the sink before going back upstairs, happy to see that Jaida was a little more awake than when she’d left. “Your sister’s here, by the way,” she said as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

Jaida sat upright. “This early? Damn. Well, I better make myself decent and go talk to her,” she said, getting out of bed and throwing on a t-shirt and sweatpants. “I won’t be long, boo.” She kissed her cheek before she made her way downstairs.

“You got some ‘splaining to do,” Heidi said as soon as Jaida came into her line of vision. “Now, who was that pretty little thing wanderin’ around here in next to nothing?”

“Jan’s the new singer at Shea’s lounge. Listen, I know it was fast but… I don’t know how to explain it, there’s something special about her. We had this connection that I just know is more than intimate.”

Heidi stared at her blankly. “Do you hear yourself right now? It hasn’t even been a month since the funeral and you’ve got a co-ed up in your room.”

Jaida sighed. “Look, I’m not planning on flaunting her out and about yet, but I’m not gonna deny myself just because the dirt on his grave is still fresh.” She chewed her lip. “This is the first time I’ve been happy in years, Heidi. I need you to let me have this.”

Her sister was quiet for a moment. “You really think this girl’s gonna make you that happy?”

“I do.”

“Then I won’t stop you.” Heidi gave in without any more resistance. “Just don’t go mixing any of that white powder into her drink, she seems real nice.”

Jaida rolled her eyes, then quickly glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Don’t you worry, arsenic milkshakes are off the menu.”

#jessence #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr rpf

17 notes · View notes

bucky-smiles · 5 years

Text

Doing Good

A oneshot? WOAH! Happy Early Halloween, here’s yall’s treat. Big love to @honeybucks and @delicatelyherdreams for betaing and helping in making my insecurities about this a little less. I’m going to note and say that flashbacks are not in chronological order. That’s all I’m saying though!

Prompt: This is an entry for my @star-spangled-bingo card for the Domestic AU square! If Bucky didn’t “die” in the war... Set in the late 60s and based on The Gambler by fun.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Fluff, angst, description of injury, mentions of blood and PTSD, war, children

Honest to God, Bucky Barnes always wondered how the hell he got to where he was. The last thing that he thought of when growing up was that he’d end up with the life he has now. The focus then was staying alive and getting by on the tiny sums given to him on all of the paychecks he received from the jobs he worked.

Falling in love was the last thing on his mind… Although he did indulge himself in that world from time to time.

Even though Bucky and Steve were living paycheck to paycheck, they still tried to make the most of their lives by going to dance clubs, bars, and Coney Island whenever they had a little bit extra they could spend. That’s what happened the night his life changed for the better. That’s what happened the night he met her.

It was a chillier night in Brooklyn when Bucky convinced Steve to go out for a night of dancing with dames. Steve didn’t want to, but figured he’d just indulge his best friend rather that listening to all the complaints Bucky would have about staying in. So there they were, the loud music hitting them the moment they entered the place. There was laughing, glasses clinking, and a jazz band ready to play to the night’s end… And Bucky’s smile and excitement made going out worth it to Steve.

Bucky was already scoping out the area, looking for potential dance partners as Steve found them a booth to put their jackets down at.. Also where Steve would likely be spending most of the night. Bucky got two coke bottles, moving to where Steve was sat and setting them down. He removed his jacket and set it down in the booth, eyes still flitting about the smiling faces in the vicinity.

That's when his steel blue eyes meet hers... It was barely a glance, in all honesty. Bucky and her eyes bounced off each other before moving to other people and parts of the room.. The eye contact was unintentional, not to be spoken about again to anyone if brought up.. They didn’t even know it happened in all honesty, so what was the point?

The moment Y/N looked back to Bucky was when she realized that there was a good looking, brunet man without a dance partner. Or at least without a visible dance partner. If she asked him to dance, what was the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? That wasn’t all that big a threat.. Especially if she’d never see him again after this.. Which was why she found herself moving in his direction, her own coke bottle in hand as she moved.

When Bucky noticed a pretty girl coming his way, his heart found its way into his throat. She took his breath away and just.. Wow..

He was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open when the girl flashed him a bright smile before speaking, “Hiya! I’m Y/N.. Wanna dance?”

Love at second sight.

“Bucky, did I schedule people to handle the shop today? I can’t remem-” Y/N walked into their shared bedroom, the stress radiating from her. She had a habit of misplacing her journal that had all of these notes and would go on a stress spree trying to remember everything.

“Doll,” Bucky interrupted, “you know you did.. You’re a good shop owner, don’t stress this much..” The man sits up in bed, metal arm creaking just a little bit as he boosts himself. “C’mere.. It’s barely 10.. We have time left to be lazy..” There was a soft smile on his lips and it quickly passed to Y/N’s as well and she let out a quiet sigh before moving to get back into bed beside her husband of 30 years, curling up into his side and wrapping an arm around his bare torso.

“You’re right.. M’sorry..” Y/N lets out a quiet laugh before continuing, “I still have to find the damn journal though.. But.. Yeah later.. It’s fine.. You’re right, we have time..” She looks up to her husband before tapping his side gently, “What’s got you in such a good mood, hm? Sleep real well or something?”

Bucky leans down and presses a soft kiss to his wife’s forehead before speaking, “That and.. And I was thinking about us.. And how far we’ve come.. And all that.. Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m feeling nostalgic..” He laughs a little at the way that Y/N wrinkled her nose a little.

“You’re such a sap, Buck..”

“I know.. But I’m your sap.”

“So how does a beautiful doll like you end up working in a diner, hm? You should be in Hollywood or something,” That was Bucky speaking as he walked Y/N home. This was their third date now. They hadn’t counted the first night of dancing.. But every time they were together after that was most definitely a date.

Y/N had Bucky’s jacket draped over her shoulders as they walked and his statement caused her to roll her eyes. She was toying with the singular rose that Bucky had gotten her earlier that evening and raised her shoulders in a gentle shrug, “The depression isn’t doing anyone favors, Bucky.. My parents need the money so I’m tryna help em’ as much as I can. Can’t do much else now that I’m 18.”

Bucky knew the feeling, especially since he had moved in with Steve. But Y/N knew his situation for the most part. Only 3 dates and Bucky wanted to tell her everything there was to know about him. Even better, he wanted to give her everything too; his time, body, mind, and soul. Although Bucky figured that that would be a little strange to say all things considered. He’d only known Y/N for a couple of weeks now and was already feeling so strongly.

“And if your parents didn’t need the money? What would you be doing?” Bucky felt this need to know everything about her. What she wanted from life, her hopes and dreams, worst fears and pet peeves. Anything she was willing to talk about.

The question causes her to smile a little bit and she lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, “I’d still work.. But I’d save the money to open a flower shop of my own.”

Bucky’s smile brightened at her words. Here she was with the desire to start her own business. Y/N really was the smartest girl in the world wasn’t she. He didn’t think twice as he spoke, “You know what doll?”

Y/N’s brow raises playfully as she looks to Bucky, “What, Buck?”

“When all the depression business is over, m’gonna stop just giving you a rose every time I see ya.. I’m gonna put the money in to help that shop of yours.. Cause’ you’re gonna make it big. I already know it.” And truly, Bucky meant every word he spoke. This wasn’t just flirting, rather a way to show how impressed he was by this girl.

Y/N shakes her head a little at that, “We’ll see when the ‘depression business’ is over.. In the meantime, just stick with the roses.” She bonks the top of Bucky’s head with the rose as she speaks, a bright smile on her lips. He was cute with little things like that. It made Y/N’s heart swell.

In response, Bucky only takes Y/N’s hand, swinging it between the two of them gently as they continue to walk under the starry night on the Brooklyn streets.

Y/N lets out a quiet sigh as she shifts for just a moment to look at the clock. Seeing that it was only a little past 1 in the afternoon, she relaxes against her husband once more, looking up to him and smiling softly, “None of them are gonna be here for a few more hours.. We have more time..”

Bucky tightens his grip around Y/N and kisses her forehead gently, looking down to meet her gaze, “I know.. That’s why I haven’t gotten out of bed yet, doll.” He leans down to kiss her properly, holding it for a few moments before pulling away, “I wish we could have more of them, ya know? I miss when they were all babies and we got to raise them and all of that..”

Y/N laughs quietly at his words and nods her head a little, “Yeah me too.. Except I don’t miss carrying them around for 9 months.. And I don’t miss waking up every other hour.. Plus, we’re too old to have any more. I know for sure that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a baby. And no matter how badly you want to, I know you wouldn’t either.”

The man lets out a long sigh. His wife was always right, he knew that for sure. She was so smart and always said the things that he wouldn’t want to say. And she was right in all of this too. Now at 52, life was getting to be just a little more difficult. His arm didn’t make things easier. He could feel his mobility declining and, while it was natural, Bucky still didn’t want to give up his young soul and childish tendencies. “Yeah, I know, doll.. But a guy can dream, ya know?”

“Yeah yeah, I know.. Did Winnie say if she was coming or not?” Y/N let her hand drift over Bucky’s chest, drawing random patterns over the area as she spoke. This entire thing was planned because Winnie said she was going to be in town so hopefully she wouldn’t cancel last minute.. Not that they’d mind if she did, their daughter was an especially important woman in her work world.

“She said she wouldn’t miss it for the world, doll.. I made her promise that much..” Their first daughter with eyes and drive both from her father. Winnie was, by far, the one that gave her parents the most trouble but in the most unconventional ways. Her younger brother, Grant, was much more of a handful when they were all growing up.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Barnes, his pneumonia doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” The doctor had a somber look on his face as he got up from little Grant’s bedside. “The medicine can only do so much.. And the cold climate isn’t helping his situation anymore..”

Y/N was clutching the collar of her shirt as she listened to the doctor, taking her bottom lip between her teeth at his mention of the weather. “Are you suggesting that we move, doctor? Pick up our entire life from Brooklyn and go somewhere warmer?”

The doctor lets out a long sigh at Y/N’s question before shrugging, “At this point? With the severity of his condition? I really do think that it’d help a lot more with the medicines..” And with that, the doctor left, leaving a heartbroken Y/N thinking about the family having to leave their entire livelihood in Brooklyn for another life somewhere else.

“Ma?” A quiet Grant spoke from bed, “We don’t hafta move, ma.. I can handle this.”

Y/N lets out a quiet, breathy laugh at his words before nodding her head, “I bet you can, baby boy.. I’ll talk to your dad. How does that sound?” She rests a hand over the swell of her belly where another child rested before moving to her son’s bedside. “You’re such a strong boy.. I’m so proud of you..” And he was exactly like his namesake, it seemed.

When Bucky came home that night, he wasn’t expecting Y/N to say what she did.. And it broke his heart.. Y/N being pregnant, Winnie being in third grade, and Grant so ill made the circumstances so much more difficult. But they could lose their son and they sure as hell were not going to risk him for their personal comfort and life.

A few months later, the Barnes’ said goodbye to Brooklyn and hopped on a plane to San Diego, California. It was an up and coming city with nice weather and good people from the sound of it. Y/N had sold her flower shop in Brooklyn and started a new one up in their new city. Grant got better with time and the warmer air. Winnie made new friends quite quickly in her new school. And eventually, Y/N and Bucky welcomed their third child only 4 months after settling down in their new home.

“Can you believe Grant is 25 now.. And bringing his girlfriend with him tonight..” That was Bucky speaking again, tugging the blanket further up over his and his wife’s body. California had been an adjustment they had to make.. But Bucky had grown to enjoy it quite a bit. He did miss Brooklyn at times but it was fine.. They were fine and their kids turned out just fine. And Grant was all grown up and okay. A true man, in Bucky’s eyes, especially because he couldn’t be more like his mother. Everyone was a lover in both of their eyes and optimism was of utmost importance.

“Mhm.. And Winnie being pregnant yet travelling so much.. Something else..” Y/N laughs a little as she speaks. It was in moments like this that she felt especially old. Their kids were all grown up and doing their own thing.. And Y/N and Bucky were there, laying in bed, just fine and surviving.

Surviving used to be a trial in itself. Especially when Bucky was serving during World War II. Y/N nearly shuddered at the thought, pressing closer to Bucky.

“What is it, hm?” Bucky had a concerned look on his face at Y/N’s sudden actions, looking down at her with a curious gaze, “You alright?”

Y/N nods at his question, offering a weak smile reassuringly, “It’s crazy to think I nearly lost you at one point is all.. I dunno what I’d have done if I did..”

Bucky lets out a quiet sigh at Y/N’s words and his gaze trails off to one of the walls of their room. “You didn’t though, and that’s all that matters..”

1945 was by far the most difficult year Y/N had ever gone through. Bucky had received his papers towards the end of 1942, right after Winnifred Barnes was welcomed into the world. And 1943 was when he left his new daughter and wife of now 3 years. He could only come back twice in his time gone, both only for a couple of weeks which he spent with his family before he’d have to go back. The second time, he left his wife pregnant. One of his biggest regrets will always be that he missed Grant’s birth. The namesake came forth as Y/N’s only reassurance of Steve being there with her husband in Europe.

Steve and Bucky had kept the capture in between them for the most part. Y/N knew bits and pieces of Azzano. Mainly that it was a difficult battle to win and that it was Steve’s debut as Captain America. She also knew that Bucky went through a lot but she was never told what. Bucky hated having her worry so he figured it’d just be best to avoid the situation.

One thing Bucky knew for sure was that he would not let the horrors of war come to Y/N. Her eyes were too bright and her soul too warm to be tainted by the darkness of the wars. She saw hope in everyone.. But Bucky knew the truth of what he sees and what his fellow soldiers have been through… And he knows what that knowledge would do to his beloved wife.. So he keeps it away the best he can.

He couldn’t keep it away, however, when the train accident occurred.

Y/N had nearly lost her husband. There he was, hanging for his dear life from the side of a moving train when Steve managed to grab him and pull him to safety. However in the commotion, the jagged metal of the train got caught in Bucky’s shoulder. Attempting to get the metal off of him made the injury all the worse and it was a miracle that Bucky survived all the blood loss and managed to stay alive through all of the surgeries.

Y/N got a call 2 weeks afterwards.. She had begun to get antsy as she hadn’t received Bucky’s weekly letter in two weeks.. Something wasn’t right, she knew it.. But no one would tell her anything.

The woman had just gotten a toddler Winnifred and baby Grant to bed when the phone rang. She quickly picked it up in fear of waking the kids up and reversing all of her hard work, “Hello?”

“... Y/N?” Steve was speaking from the other line. It sounded like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Stevie? What.. What happened? Is Bucky okay?”

“Y/N you’re going to want to sit down for this..”

The work earlier in not wanting to wake up the children was in vain. Y/N’s shrieks at the news woke them up anyways.

After that, Y/N got her mother to watch the kids for the week and Stark flew the plane himself to get Y/N from a covert military base. She was the wife of a Howling Commando, after all, and was to be treated with nothing but respect.

Y/N was scared to see Bucky. The surgery had gone fine but he no longer had his left arm. She just.. God, it was terrifying to think that the man she loves the most had gone through this much pain and that she couldn’t do anything about it.

The woman took a seat beside Bucky’s hospital bed and took his right hand gently, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Her husband was asleep, safe from the horrors of war to her knowledge.. And he seemed peaceful, like the Bucky she’d met nearly 10 years ago.

It made Y/N cry quietly. What had war done to her love?

“You said you aren’t leaving till it’s our time.. And it isn’t our time.. I’m not quitting and you can’t either, Bucky.. You can’t leave me, Winnie, and Grant by ourselves. We need you. And I wouldn’t be able to survive without you..” Y/N presses another kiss to the back of his hand, pushing his almost shaggy hair back gently on his forehead. “I know you’re sleeping.. But I promise.. I’m not ever leaving your side.. As long as I can hold your hand, I’m not leaving you.”

Y/N had to nudge Bucky a little to bring him out of the trance he’d fallen into thinking about war. He’d gotten discharged after the accident and spent time back at home getting himself together. Once the war was over, Stark helped Bucky’s arm situation out by fashioning a state of the art prosthetic for him. It wasn’t enough for Bucky as it wasn’t his arm. But he made due with it and would often go in to get things refitted and reworked.

Bucky blinked a couple of times, clenching and unclenching his metal hand before looking back to Y/N and offering a weak smile, “I’m glad you never left me after the accident. Don’t know what I would’ve done.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N sits up and runs a hand through her own hair before stretching out, “How could I? I love you too much.” The woman flashes a fond smile to her husband before moving to get out of bed, “Come on, the kids are all gonna be here soon.. We best get everything ready.”

And so Y/N and Bucky worked in tandem getting everything together for their kids’ arrival. Lucy was the first to arrive, a taxi from the bus station bringing her right back home from her studies at UCLA. At the age of 19, she was on her way in the world of biology. Everyone knew she was going to make it big.

Grant came home afterwards, his girlfriend by the name of Jane, on his arm. He was excited that his girl got to meet the entire family now.

After Grant came Junior.. His name was James but the nickname was quickly taken up as Bucky’s full name oftentimes made him cringe. He was still in school, studying business as his working at his mother’s flower shop since a young age put him in a world he didn’t want to leave.

And lastly, but most certainly not least, came Winnifred. Her belly was swollen and her husband was on her arm. Y/N was absolutely delighted that she was to be a grandmother soon.

Dinner passed and all the Barnes siblings had filed to the expansive backyard. Junior was talking with Winnifred’s husband, Grant was handling the dishes with his girlfriend, and Lucy was talking with Winnifred about her plans for the baby.

Y/N and Bucky watched from where they were sitting, fond smiles on their face.

“Hey, Bucky?” Y/N spoke gently, her eyes slowly drifting to her husband.

Bucky looks to her, his smile brightening just a little, “Yeah, doll?”

She takes his metal hand, her finger running over the gold band that’d been smelted onto his left finger before squeezing his hand gently, “We did good..”

The man lets his gaze drift off to his children again, and the people they’d chosen for their lives like Bucky had done for his. Eventually, he nods a little, squeezing his wife’s hand right back. “Yeah, doll.. We did.”

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153 notes · View notes

enragedbees · 4 years

Text

Wretched/Deluded

Pairing: Prinxiety, side Logicality

Summary: As Virgil helps Logan get ready for a date, he reminisces back to when they first met in high school.

Warnings: Swearing (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 3030

Song rec: Factories by Autoheart (This is less of a theme for this chapter, but more of the theme I’m using for the fic in its entirety!)

A huge thanks to the lovely @fall-sunflowers for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xionbean @thenewlarislynn @emo-disaster @darkstrange-son @starwarsdestroyedme

I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think! :)

Read the companion to this story!

——————————————-

Chapter 1: To Put Together Me

~ -222 days from The Beginning ~

Virgil heard the front door of his apartment slam shut.

He switched the tab on his laptop from Tumblr to LinkedIn and got up from the couch, leaving the screen open and facing out as if to prove that he’d been doing what he was supposed to. His roommate walked through the kitchen, grinning.

“Hey.” Virgil walked across the room and leaned against the wall. “You look happy.”

“I am.” Logan opened the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. “I have a date tonight.”

Virgil grinned. “You finally asked that guy you met?”

“‘Finally’ seems rather melodramatic. I waited a perfectly reasonable amount of time before asking him out.” Logan cracked his water bottle open. “I’ve only known him for two weeks.”

“And for two weeks you haven’t stopped talking about him.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He took a drink and set the bottle down. “How goes the job hunt?”

Virgil grimaced and sat back down on the couch. “I can’t find anything worthwhile.”

“Maybe I can ask Patton tonight if he knows of anyone who’s hiring.” Logan offered. “He knows the city well.”

Virgil scoffed. “You can’t ask that on a first date. He’ll think that’s the only reason you took him out.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Okay, I won’t.”

Virgil grabbed his laptop. “When are you picking him up?”

Logan checked his watch. “About two and a half hours.”

“And what are you wearing?”

Logan looked down at what he had on. “I was just going to wear this.”

Virgil stopped. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. What’s wrong with it?”

Virgil shook his head, eyes wide. “You can’t wear your daytime clothes on a date! Especially not when he’s already seen you in them that day. Do you want to look like you don’t care about going out with him?”

“Well, obviously, not,” muttered Logan.

Virgil sighed loudly and stood up. ”Come on, I’ll find you something.” He clasped Logan on the shoulder. “I guess some things never change.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “It’s not like I’m helpless without you.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Virgil lightly pushed against Logan into his room and started to rifle through Logan’s closet.

~ -3110 days from The Beginning ~

Virgil Terek had no friends.

And he was okay with that. He enjoyed being alone.

It’s not like he wasn’t likable. He wasn’t an outcast. People were nice to him and he was polite back.

Virgil just didn’t make an effort to put himself near other people. If he auditioned for the school musical, he’d be immediately adopted by the theater kids. Same with choir, or art, or any kind of sport, all things he could excel at. He simply didn’t want to.

Virgil didn’t want to join a group where he’d always be on the outside. He might have had a couple friends, but he was too far behind to ever be a part of some tight-knit collection of people who had been in that club together since childhood. Virgil would sit with them at lunch, hang out with them on the weekends, go to their birthday and graduation parties. But they wouldn’t ask to work with him on group projects in class. They wouldn’t pick him for their team in gym. Every time they made plans, it would be, “Oh, and you can come too, if you want, Virgil.”

And it was far too dangerous to have a single best friend, instead of a group of people. Virgil would never depend so much on one person. He’d just get hurt when they left for someone else.

Virgil was happy where he was. At lunch he sat in silence with the other kind-of-loners like him and did homework. At home, he read or wrote or listened to music or watched television or dicked around on his phone. Virgil was content.

The lack of friends eliminated distractions from what really mattered to Virgil. He could focus on what he wanted to do, and never had to worry about not having enough free time to do it.

Virgil Terek entered the ninth grade with complete indifference. By that point, he had learned his place in the world. As long as he maintained his grades and took all his required courses and interacted with his parents every once in awhile, nobody bothered him. He was free.

And Virgil had never had a problem maintaining his grades. Being categorized as a “gifted student” sometime in elementary school, he never struggled with completing an assignment or needed to study for tests. Virgil was placed in the advanced classes throughout elementary and middle school and had no problem breezing through them without trying or even enjoying it.

He took Geometry CP freshman year because it was the logical next step. He had no idea how much different an advanced high school course was from an advanced middle school course. When Virgil didn’t immediately understand a concept, he didn’t ask for help. When he only halfway understood the quadratic formula or didn’t memorize the order of the postulates and theorems, he didn’t study, because he had never had to before, and everything worked out on its own. Virgil started getting the worst test grades he had ever received in his life.

A few weeks into the course, he was barely pulling a D+. His parents and teacher kept getting on his case, Virgil didn’t know how to fix his grades, and he felt his freedom slipping away.

Other students complained near him about doing poorly, but their worst was always a grade Virgil would kill to have again. And the most annoying part was the new student in his class who never complained, who never was unprepared or confused, who seemed to have already mastered every topic in the course yet participated and accomplished classwork with vigor like it was the most interesting thing going on in his life.

Over the course of a few weeks, Virgil saw his irrational hatred of the kid intensify. Every time he got a poor test grade or failed assignment, he grew angrier at the kid who had no problems with the material. Everything about him annoyed Virgil. He was a freshman who had just moved into town, and he was still better than Virgil. He was very tall and very thin, which should have made him awkward, but he wasn’t. He dressed every day like he was going to work, tie and all. He spoke so professionally, almost robotically. He was stuck up and arrogant and took every chance he could to correct someone. But he had an A+ in Geometry.

Virgil, slumped at his desk in class while the teacher passed back their most recent tests, let these thoughts stew. He begrudgingly took the paper his teacher handed back to him, upside down and folded, with a stern but encouraging glance in Virgil’s direction. Virgil grimaced and turned it over.

A big red D- sat leeringly at the top of the page. Virgil sighed. He looked to the front of the room at the new kid, who was flipping through the test, observing it with noticeable interest, looking over the unmarked pages before setting it back on the desk with an obvious A+ at the top.

Virgil rolled his eyes to himself. None of his closest acquaintances were in the same math class, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking the sophomores and juniors in the period for help. This kid who didn’t know Virgil and therefore, didn’t have a reason to turn him away, might have been Virgil’s only chance to get his life back to normal.

He groaned inwardly. He wished he had another option.

When the period ended, Virgil walked up to the kid, who was packing up his backpack.

“Hey, how’d you do on the test?” Virgil asked. He hated small talk, but he was about to ask a complete stranger for help, and Virgil felt that he at least owed it to the kid.

“I got one-hundred percent,” answered the boy. Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Cool. I didn’t do so well.” Virgil slung his backpack over his shoulder and they walked out of the classroom. “I’m Virgil, by the way.”

The kid furrowed his brow. “Like the poet? What kind of a name is that?”

Virgil glared at him. He decided didn’t need straight A’s that badly. “Alright, fuck off.” He started to walk away.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” The other boy at least looked sheepish. “I don’t have much of a filter or an understanding of social etiquette. I tend to speak whatever I’m thinking without realizing the effects of what I say.”

Jesus, this kid. Virgil was sure he had just recited that from a textbook he picked up somewhere. He sighed. “Okay. I don’t think that makes it better, though.”

The kid stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Virgil. My name is Logan Schlenke.”

Virgil gingerly shook his hand and they continued down the hallway. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m kind of doing really badly in Geo and I can’t help but notice that you know what you’re doing.” He sighed. “Is there any way you can help me when I don’t understand what’s going on?”

“You want me to tutor you?” asked Logan. “Sure, I can do that.”

“It’s not tutoring, I just want a little help with the content.”

“That would be called tutoring,” Logan offered.

“No, I don’t need –” He stopped himself and gritted his teeth. “Fine, whatever, call it tutoring,” Virgil muttered. He bit his lip. “But you’ll do it?”

Logan stopped. He looked at Virgil thoughtfully. “I’ll help you under one condition.”

“Seriously?” Virgil groaned. “What is it?”

“It’s become evident to me that in order to have a productive and enjoyable high school career, one must be on good terms with their classmates,” Logan said. “I’ll help you understand Geometry if you help me to understand how to interact with people.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’m your best choice to learn people skills, man. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of keep to myself and don’t talk to anybody else.”

“That’s not true,” Logan commented. “I’ve seen you talking with lots of people and everyone likes you. Besides, I don’t want or need actual friends. I just need to get along with the other students in the school.”

Damn. This kid. Virgil was already regretting the decision. There had to be an easier way to pass Geo.

He let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

Logan stuck his hand out again, and Virgil shook it. “It’s a deal,” Logan smiled.

The two exchanged contact information, and Logan walked into his next class, leaving Virgil shaking his head in the hallway.

Over the next few days, Logan went to Virgil’s house after school and worked with him on the content they learned in class.

“Your main problem seems to be that you never learned how to study,” Logan noted. “If you practice teaching yourself the concepts you don’t understand in class, soon you won’t need someone to reteach it to you.”

Virgil scoffed. “Why should I teach myself something when there’s a teacher getting paid to do it?”

“Teachers or other professionals are useful to help explain a concept to students. Not all teaching styles work on everyone, so sometimes it’s necessary to find out how you learn best and teach it to yourself,” Logan explained, maintaining a remarkable amount of patience. “You should also pay attention in class more often.”

Virgil tried to help Logan interact in social situations, but he had no idea how to teach him, or if any of what he knew would work for Logan. Logan tried his best, though, putting the same effort into studying people skills that he did in his schoolwork.

“So, maybe, when you want to say something, just…don’t, for a bit. Until you think it over and decide it’s an acceptable thing to say,” Virgil offered.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I’ve tried that?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Look, dude, I’m not really sure how it works for you, anyway. But if you want people to like you, you can’t say things that make you look like an asshole. Just…calibrate, I guess.”

Logan’s eyebrow raised, but he said nothing. He jotted something down in a notebook.

“And you have to lose the tie.”

“Why?” asked Logan, genuinely confused.

“Nobody wears ties to school unless they have to dress up. Don’t you own, like, a single t-shirt or something?”

Horror flashed across Logan’s face. “Why would I wear a t-shirt to school?”

“So you look like a normal human teenager and not a child trying to run for president.”

Logan pursed his lips but wrote in his notebook again.

Virgil took a breath. “Tomorrow, try wearing jeans, a nice t-shirt, and an unzipped hoodie. And brush your bangs forward a bit, your hair doesn’t have to all be going in the same direction.”

Logan looked at Virgil like he had told Logan to wear nothing but a bathrobe to school, but he wrote it all down.

And the next day, Logan walked up to Virgil at his locker, wearing skinny jeans with a brown belt, a long-sleeve gray and white raglan, and a green hoodie. He had his hair swept to the side, falling gently over his forehead, just high enough so it didn’t impede his vision.

“Whoa.” Virgil grinned at Logan.

Logan smiled sheepishly back, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You look great, man,” said Virgil. And he really meant it. He could already feel a difference in the energy surrounding Logan. He could feel the other students no longer seeing him as an outlier or a stranger, but as someone who could be anyone else in the school. He’s one of us, they seemed to think out loud.

And, for the first time, Virgil realized that Logan was actually a really attractive guy. He just hadn’t known how to express himself. For some reason, Logan had tried to confine himself to a professional, more mature style. But in this outfit, he looked comfortable, relaxed, more laid-back and easygoing. Though he was almost definitely nervous of switching up his style so suddenly, Virgil could see in the way he carried himself that Logan felt more like himself in this outfit, not trying to prove to everyone that he’s someone he’s not.

They began walking down the hallway. “The most important thing about wearing this today is being confident in it. It won’t have as much of an impact if you doubt yourself.” Virgil said. “I know it’s a big change, but you’ve got to believe that you do look good.”

“You told me I did,” Logan said. “I have no reason to distrust you.”

As they walked, a few kids in the opposite direction smiled or nodded hello to Logan. He smiled back

“How do you feel?’ Virgil asked.

“I feel good.” Logan nodded. “I had no idea how much something as small as what I wore could have an effect on how I’m perceived.”

“You’re already starting to seem like a real person to the others,” Virgil smiled. “Keep this up and I’d bet anything you could get any girl in the school.”

Logan laughed out loud. “We’ll see. How did you do on the pop quiz in Geometry yesterday?”

“I got a B,” Virgil grinned.

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement, but I know you can do more. Are you free again this afternoon?”

Virgil sighed. God forbid he be proud of less than his best. “Yeah, my place again?”

Logan nodded and turned into his first period classroom for the day.

As the days passed, Virgil slowly grew more confident in his abilities to learn and understand things himself. He noticed that he started asking questions in class when he was lost, and he noticed seeing Logan smirk with pride every time.

Logan slowly grew more accustomed to social interaction. His robotic syntax and word choice didn’t change, but with the change in style, it began to seem quirky and intelligent rather than just arrogant. And though he still, with nothing but good and helpful intentions, corrected anyone who was wrong about anything, Virgil helped him to do it without making the other person feel stupid. Logan made friends, built connections, and started making a place for himself in the school.

Virgil soon became confident in his ability to study and learn things on his own, which was a huge source of pride for him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly study. As one last benchmark, Logan went an entire chapter without tutoring or explaining anything to Virgil.

At the end of the chapter, his teacher handed him his test, upside down, with a pleased smile. Virgil turned over the paper to see a 96% A crowning the top.

Virgil ran up to Logan at the end of the class as they walked out together. “I can’t believe I did it!”

Logan grinned. “Congratulations.”

“Man, I could not have done this without you. Thank you so much for everything,” said Virgil.

“You’re welcome.”

Virgil pulled his phone out. “Do you want to come over today? I have to text my mom but I know she’ll be fine with it.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there another class you’re having trouble with?”

“What?” Virgil looked up at him. “No, no. Not for studying. Just to hang out.”

Logan raised his eyebrows.

“Like, for fun?” Virgil continued.

Logan’s face lit up. “Okay. Sure.”

He turned and walked away, beaming. As Virgil watched him go, a realization hit him. He had been trying for so long to get his life back to normal, back to being alone and untethered. But now, he’d never be able go back to that life.

“Goddamn,” he muttered.

Virgil Terek had one friend.

He walked away, shaking his head and laughing at himself, but unable to keep a smile off his face.

87 notes · View notes

mysweetestcreature · 5 years

Text

Something New

A/N: this is something of a passion write I had been working on during finals week back in May. Special thanks to my betas, @cherryyharryy and @meetmeinthehallwayhs for helping me through this :D

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: some smut

Summary: Harry may have just found his new muse.

***

The walls in Harry’s apartment are paper thin.

He’s roused awake by the rattling of his keys on the table beside him. His heavy lids force apart, and he half expects to be blinded by the morning sun. Instead, he’s met with a skyline painted a dark navy with hints of orangey-yellow peeking from the bottom. Wiping the crustiness away from his thick lashes, he’s able to decipher the time and place. The clock on his right reads 4:21 AM in large, red figures that sting his eyes with their intense vibrancy. He can’t help but wonder who in their right mind would be awake this early and let alone have the energy to cause such a commotion at such a dreadful hour.

A subsequent snort sounds from the back of his nose. The sleepiness he had felt when he’d gone to bed is quickly stripped away, but ever present with the unwillingness of his limbs to make themselves useful. He turns to lay down on his back and stares at the ceiling. It’s far earlier than he’s used to, but now his mind is running wild with thoughts that will surely bother him throughout the day. Like how he may or may have not forgotten to give his mum a ring like he said he would after he had gotten home from the club, or that he can’t recall whether he had given Niall his cousin’s number (Niall has a bit of a crush on her, although she doesn’t seem to be all that interested) while he was drunk and dancing to Cher’s Believe. Come to think of it, he isn’t even sure how he’s managing not to drift off considering he had only gotten in a little less than three hours ago.

It takes longer than he would ever care to admit, but Harry is finally able to convince the rest of his body to leave the warmth of his sheets. The hairs on the back of his neck rise as his feet come in contact with the creaky wooden floorboards. He lifts off the mattress with a little jump, and it’s then the frigid air from the open window collides with his bare chest.

He moves into the bathroom with dallying steps –– after all, time seems to be on his side today –– that cease once he reaches the outside of the tub. He feels behind the other side of the curtain for the faucet, and it elicits the faintest whine as he turns the water on.

Once inside, he lets out a relieved sigh as the hot pellets land on his back and massage every inch of his skin. He stands with his arm outstretched and braced against the cool tiles with his head hung low, wet hair falling heavy in front of his eyes with water streaming from the ends.

His other hand slowly slides down his body, starting from the butterfly tattoo on his abdomen leading south. He swallows hard as the tips of his fingers are tickled by the coarse hairs of his pubic bone. They move further down and wrap around his semi-hard cock one at a time. He hisses when he gives it a generous squeeze, bucking his hips forward on reflex. He begins to tug on himself, each proceeding breath becoming more staggered than the last.

The tip of his member screams with a rose-flushed red. Each drop of water feels like electricity jolting each nerve in his body from dormancy. He shuts his eyes tight, leaning back against the wall as he jerks himself off in a quick but steady rhythm.

There’s the slightest twinge of guilt that consumes just a part of his brain, but the larger part craves for the ultimate bliss of a much needed release. His other hand moves down to his aching balls. They feel tight as he rolls them with his palms, each stretch of the skin making his toes curl and creating a squeaking noise that echoes in the acoustics of the room.

He fantasizes being able to fuck his cock between a pair of supple breasts. How the mixture of sweat and his excitement allow for him to thrust through the tight valley with ease, far enough so that the head is just able to be sucked into her greedy mouth. Her expert tongue licks over him like a lollipop. Its underside brushes along his slit, and he’s unable to constrain himself from bucking forward and feeling the back of her throat. She gags on him, bolstering his ego. The vibrations of her lips cause a ripple of shocks to spread across the surface of his skin and startle his very core.

“Fuck me,” he moans shakily as his knees begin to grow unsteady. His movements become more desperate, and he finds his mind drifting to filthier, more sinful thoughts that will surely reserve him a special place in hell. He imagines pushing into a mouthwatering pussy, drenched in the sweetest juices that takes every single inch of him until the slap of his skin against hers drowns out their husky and panting voices. The way her walls clasp around him, keeping him as deep within her nearly draws the cum from his taut balls and drives him closer and closer to seeing the blinding stars behind his lids. She screams out his name like a sacred hymn, looking up at him with lustrous eyes with each fluid roll of his hips against hers.

He fists his cock aggressively for a while longer before his body begins to spasm as creamy ribbons progress out of him like an active stream. His lungs burn as they fill with the humidity around him. He twists the pointed end of the faucet, finally being allowed to breathe again under the frigid rush.

***

Harry emerges from the bedroom half an hour later in a pair of well-fitting grey slacks with a crisp, gentle lavender button-up on top. He mindlessly goes through the task of making himself a cup of dark roast coffee and putting together a bowl of Corn Flakes with sliced bananas and half a cup of almond milk splashed on top. Sometimes, he likes to simply listen to his teeth as they crunch down on the grains until it slithers down his throat.

There’s the screech of a chair against the floor that sounds from the apartment next door. He hadn’t even realized that it was being occupied until this moment. The people that used to live there, a train conductor called Emmitt Pearlstein and his eighty-year-old mother, had moved out only a few months ago.

(To be honest, he’s still feeling a bit guilty for having never accepted any of their dinner invitations. But it’s not entirely his fault! He heard from Susan and Kelly from downstairs that all the food was blended since Mrs. Pearlstein refuses to get herself a new pair of dentures.)

Maybe he’ll introduce himself when he gets a day off...whenever that will be. It is wedding season after all! And he’s booked for client meetings and events until the end of May. Harry is a photographer, and as circumstance have proven, one that is very in demand. The pay is more than decent to substantiate his current lifestyle –– i.e. pay his rent, put gas in his car, and set aside a few extra pounds for leisurely spending on a rainy day because Gucci isn’t cheap, after all!

He slurps up the leftover milk in his bowl before rinsing it out in the sink. He checks his watch, 7:54, which gives him more than enough time to check-in at the office before touching base with the bride and groom (separately, as old school superstition dictates) staying at the hotel across town for some pre-ceremony pictorials with the entourage.

As he locks up behind him, his ears perk at the sound of the elevator’s ding just around the corner. Taking giant leaps, his tripod and camera case swinging over his shoulders, he’s able to thrust his hand through the slimming crack of the doors. There’s a girl inside, large chocolate brown sunglasses covering nearly half her face.

“Morning,” he greets, nodding at her politely as he steps in. He pushes the already lit up lobby level button out of habit and waits patiently as the doors attempt at yet another close.

On the reflection of the walls, he notices how she averts her gaze from looking anywhere but her suede ankle boots, and it’s as though she’s designated her position to be cramped up in the corner as far away from him as possible. Harry dips his nose close to his collar and takes a subtle whiff. Between his cologne and his botanical rain fabric softener, he thinks he smells pretty damn fantastic.

The stiffness in the enclosed quarters makes the ride down from the fifteenth floor feel slower than real time. All that’s able to keep him engaged is the toe-tapping tune playing softly through the speakers. He gives the situation the benefit of the doubt, assuming that she’s not yet had her morning coffee or really is just very shy around strange men she encounters on the lift.

A sniffle suddenly erupts between them, and Harry glances back up at her reflection just in time to see the tips of her fingers disappear underneath her glasses. He digs into his back pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. “Here,” he gives her a small sympathetic smile that nearly wavers when she looks up at him. “I’m sorry if I’m...if I’m intruding or anything.” He trips nervously on his words as they spill out. “I just thought you could-”

“Thank you,” her voice is grateful but weak, as though she’s thoroughly tired out each cord, but the way it vibrates through his ears leaves him at a loss for words. She takes the handkerchief from him and pushes it under the frames of her shades and dabs gently. It’s then he sees her puffy red-rimmed eyes. They make contact with his, in a flicker that he isn’t sure ever occurred.

His curiosity gets the better of him as he tries again for a better look when the bell rings signaling that they’ve arrived at the lobby. She nods at him, grinning faintly as she makes her way towards the glass door exit. It leaves Harry standing in the shaft to gape at the ghost of her trail.

As soon as he steps out to follow, the doorman, Martin, stops him.

“Harry, my man!” he exclaims, patting him on the shoulder a little too harshly. “Off to work, already? It’s what...” He glances down at his watch but soon his brows furrow, and he taps on the glass to get it start again. Typical Martin is all Harry can think as he rolls his eyes.

“I could’ve sworn I just changed the battery on this! Last time I’ll ever get a fix behind a T.K. Maxx...” he grumbles, shaking his head as he continues to scold himself.

“I told you, there’s a decent place around the corner. Cheap replacement. You’re in and out in ten minutes tops, mate,” Harry says.

Only momentarily does he allow his eyes to wander back to the door and scan across the windows of the entrance.

***

“Alright, I want big smiles from the lot of you,” Harry instructs the newlyweds and their families as they stand in front of the altar. “C’mon, Dad, I know you can do better than that.” The father of the bride sneers at him before begrudgingly offering the camera a minimal show of his teeth. “And...” Harry snaps a few shots, two with flash and three without. “Beautiful! Greatly appreciate it.”

The rest of the guests pack into their cars as they move the celebration to the reception venue, leaving only Harry and the wedding party to take pictures in the church. As he’s packing up his camera and tripod, he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. He zips up his tripod before turning around.

“Hi!” He’s met immediately with a flowy maroon skirt that nearly touches the marble floor before he trails his eyes up to find a face. It’s one of the bridesmaids, the one who had lit the candle, he thinks. He’d noticed her earlier while she proceeded down the aisle, and he definitely didn’t miss the way she looked at him while he took candid pictures of the ceremony.

He smirks as he stands up. “Hey.”

She leans in close to him, her breath tickling the shell of his ear as she whispers something naughty which he’s sure the guy upstairs won’t appreciate in his sanctuary. But fucking hell does this girl have a mouth on her. She backs away slowly, a mischievous grin spread across her plump lips.

“I’ll see you later then, yeah?” she confirms as she pivots on her heel, glancing over her shoulder.

This is a normal thing for him, as ill-sounding as it is. He’s twenty-five, single, and has a job that just so happens to put him in a position where he’s surrounded by boatloads of women on high-level emotional limbo because the effects of weddings make them more vulnerable and wanting some intimacy until an inevitable hangover dawns upon them the next morning. And hey, he’s only human and admittedly only has the competence to hold a relationship for a few hours.

He tilts his head back, watching amusedly as she sways her hips for him. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

***

It’s a little after 2am when Harry arrives back home. He’s exhausted, in more ways than one, and all he really wants at the moment is to collapse onto his bed and sleep in to an acceptable time. If only he were that lucky. The bride had pulled him aside as he was about to leave with an urgent color to her voice that required the pictures to be ready as soon as possible.

Which, to put it into more exact terms, means that she wants it no later than forty-eight hours from the present time. And that doesn’t even take into account that he has another client wedding tomorrow afternoon which by the way, happens to be two and a half hours outside of London, which furthermore means he’s going to have to be out the door at least five hours beforehand because traffic is always unpredictable. He quickly pulls out his phone and looks for the email with the event details.

Danvers-Belton Wedding

(All he knows is that the bride-to-be’s family is fully loaded, and her engagement to her fiancé had been published in every entertainment paper in the city. Her dad is some CEO of a steel company or something like that. Harry had met him at their first meeting, and honestly, he had nearly spooked the shit out of him.)

Getting back to work, he inserts the memory card into his computer and stares numbly at the pinwheel-like loading icon. His job is great and has its perks (that bridesmaid from earlier truly made it worth his while), but this process is no doubt the part he least looks forward to. There are probably about 3500 photos he’ll have to go through by the end of the night, and out of those, around 400 to 500 he’ll pre-select and send to the couple before he begins editing.

He unbuttons his shirt down a little more than halfway, just enough for his chest to not feel so constricted in the stuffy atmosphere of his flat. “For fucks sake,” he groans, standing up from his chair and stalking across the living room to open the balcony door.

The breath of the wind sends tingles down his spine as it dries the beads of sweat from his body. He steps out, hoping to rejuvenate himself before burying himself in his work. He stares into the deserted streets and thinks about how peaceful everything it is at this hour. Just the sound of the city asleep feels like living in an entirely different world, as though someone had pressed the pause button on time. Only the simplistic soundtracks of the night dances through his ears and make his eyes drift close as he enjoys it all.

But something interrupts the natural melodies, an unexpected interrupted cadence written in with crayon in the score. His brows crease when it occurs again, but this time accompanied by a heavy weep. He looks to his left, Alfred Dimalanta’s place is pitch black inside (he might be working the nightshift tonight), and then to his right. A faint fluorescence wavers behind the curtains of the newly occupied flat.

Inside, someone sobs uncontrollably. Harry steps closer to the rightmost rail of his balcony and crosses his arms over the cool metal. His head drops as he listens.

He knows the feeling well.

***

“So, then I told her, ‘listen, I’ve been understanding of your situation, but you haven’t paid your rent in like four months...Joaquin is gonna chop up my balls then feed it to his tiger if I don’t collect it by the end of the week.’” Martin explains, using hand gestures to portray the possible castration in his future. Harry hums, only half paying attention has he sorts through his mail one by one.

Junk.

Ju-oh! Coupon for a free half-chicken from Nando’s!

More junk.

“You’re gonna share that, right?”

Harry barely looks up. “Like you shared that pizza that I paid for on Tuesday?”

“Hey!” Martin counters in defense. “You left!”

“I left to use the toilet, and that was barely three minutes.”

The doorman slumps down in his chair as he begs to disagree. Harry throws the rest of the unimportant letters in the waste bin beside them, only keeping the coupon and his monthly bank statement. As he’s about to respond to something Martin had just complained about, the lift dings.

When he turns his head in its direction, the girl from yesterday emerges from it and similarly rushes out just as she had done before, even wearing the same sunglasses. She walks out of the lift in a dress that’s soft blue, pleated skirt flows like a wave as she gracefully moves through the lobby. He watches her this time and observes as she pushes out the door and crosses the street, soon disappearing out of the frame.

“Is she new?” Harry asks, trying not to sound overly interested when he turns back.

Martin gawks at him in disbelief. “She’s only been here for the last 3 months and living next to you, nonetheless! I’m surprised you lot haven’t met yet.”

***

The Danvers-Belton wedding is nauseatingly perfect. Everyone is equipped with their oh-so happy smiles and photo-ready poses as Harry swims through the room snapping pictures that are meant to be candid. It’s as though they’re all in great joy over this seemingly destined union. The bride and groom are completely enthralled by one another, so much that they’ve barely mingled with the guests in favor of staring adoringly into each other’s eyes by the dessert bar.

Harry pans around the reception hall –– which is more like some ballroom out of a princess movie, but that’s just his opinion –– with his camera as he looks for his next subject to capture since he’s taken enough lovey dovey pictures of the newlyweds for the time being. He takes one of the bride’s parents as the father engages in an animated conversation with some balding old men that he assumes are business associates of his. The mother smiles sweetly and nods next to the gentlemen even though her presence is completely ignored by all.

The rest of the guests are all distributed in groups: there are the dancers moving their feet to a swing song played by the live band; the bargoers all giggling drunkenly over their fifth round of tequila shots; and those, like the father, chatting about how gorgeous the ceremony had been and discussing about how much this damn party must have cost (rumor has it, over £5,000,000). He takes shots of each niche.

“You there, photographer!”

He pulls the camera from his face and turns in the direction of the voice. It’s the grandmother –– he thinks? He couldn’t tell you with all the Botox and fillers. “Take a picture of me by the ice sculpture, would you? Make sure I look thin!” The elderly woman strikes a side pose, the knee closest to the camera popping out and revealing her still flawless skin through the cuts of her dress. He signals when he’s finished, and the woman walks away without even a thank you. It’s something he’s used to by now.

As he looks through the lens again, he’s able to preserve a particularly adorable moment. The flower girl and the ring-bearer high on the tips of their toes as they dig into the remainder of the once towering cake. He gets it, he’d been served a slice and it was the most delicate and divine thing to ever touch his palate in his entire life. And maybe he’ll bribe one of them with a crisp fifty-pound note to set aside a piece for him.

Next to them, however, is someone who he’s only just taken notice of. He drops the camera so he can see with his own unobstructed vision. For a time, he switches between the two perspectives because he’s in such disbelief. The girl from his building, his neighbor as he’s recently discovered, is here, sitting by herself at the table with her own share of cake. She stares down at it with such intensity in contrast to the weak grip she has on her fork that seesaws in her grasp and above the edge of the plate.

He debates whether he should approach her. Would that be weird? Would she think he’s stalking her? But why would he? Up until this morning, he thought she was just visiting someone for the week. What would he say? “Hey, I live next door! Sorry I haven’t introduced myself yet, but no time like a wedding, right?” or maybe “Hi, I’m Harry. I don't know if you remember, but we met briefly on the lift back at the Grove?” Oh god, since when has he become an imbecile at making conversation?

Well, he supposes there are worse ways to make a first impression. He maneuvers through the other guests and pulled-out chairs, barely dodging a server with a heavy tray piled with used glassware and utensils. When he’s about a few steps from her, he halts, smoothing out his pants and making sure his collar is tucked away neatly in his suit jacket. He brushes his nose against the fabric, making sure his cologne hasn’t worn off in the six hours he’s been here.

“Hi.”

Like slow-motion, she takes her eyes off her cake to lay them on him. She squints them almost suspiciously. I should’ve taken more pictures of Grandma; Harry thinks to himself. He bites down nervously on the inside of his cheek, going back and forth between walking away or evaporating on the spot.

“I know you from somewhere,” she suddenly says, pondering. She props her hand under her chin and it’s only a few seconds later that her eyes widen in realization. “You live in my building!” She nods to the empty seat beside her.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, graciously accepting her invitation. “I think you actually live next to me. I’m in 15D.”

She laughs. “Really? Then why haven’t I seen you around before?” As a waiter passes by, she points to her empty glass of wine and sends him a quick ‘thank you.’ “A bit odd that I’m meeting my neighbor for the first time at a party nearly three hours away.”

“That’s my fault,” he sheepishly admits. “I’m on a pretty strict schedule.” He holds up his camera. “Been snapping photos since one.”

“A photographer, huh?” Her face brightens with amusements. “Have any of me on there?” Her smile is playful as she smiles shyly. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she stares into her lap.

It’s surprising how taken he is by such a seemingly innocent action. It’s the first time he’s really seen her without those large shades, and he’d be messing with himself if he said she isn’t beyond attractive. She’s wearing the same dress he’d seen her in this morning, and now he’s able to fully appreciate how perfectly she fills it out. But instead, all finds himself doing is admiring the glow of her skin in the light of the setting sun, and how a dust of rose pulls across her features terrifically.

He lifts up his camera, wanting nothing more than to commit this image to memory. She looks up at him. At first, she has a smile so virtuous that he’s unable to get a focus on her, but soon enough it falters when her attention flips to something behind him. It draws a frown in its place that causes Harry to lower his arms. He dares try to trace the line of her gaze back to whatever’s caused such an antagonistic shift in an otherwise splendid expression.

The groom holds his bride close as they sway to a slow and sweet melody from the string quartet. They still look as happy as they gaze at each other, cherishing the final moments of this amorous evening.

“We used to date. Philip and I... Four years, actually.” The words are strangled, leaving her throat as though pushed out forcefully.

“Oh, I-” but he’s left without anything to say. She lets out another laugh, but this one is coated in melancholy.

“We broke up because he said he didn’t want to get married,” she pauses, taking a shaky breath that feels almost painful. “What he really meant was that he didn’t want to marry me.” Her voice begins to tighten even more, and his head drops when he hears the faintest sound of that first whimper. He stares at the ends of the tablecloth in reflection. “He got engaged to Bethany less than five months later. Funny how that works, yeah? How you can spend four years of your life thinking you’re on the same page, but it turns out you’ve been four chapters ahead the entire time.”

Harry can’t bring himself to look her directly in the eyes. The music playing abruptly turns into something more heart-wrenching despite its major key. Without thinking, he reaches across the table and covers her hand with his and gives it a comforting squeeze. There’s nothing his words can do to alleviate even just a fraction of how this must affect her.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can whisper. “That probably doesn’t mean much, but I am.” Through his lashes he sees how she acknowledges it with genial character as she bows her head slightly.

A silence falls between them, but neither make an effort to move their hands. There’s a clamor of dishes coming from the kitchen that manages to distract him for a bit. Harry watches with mild delight as Bethany’s father barges through the swinging doors, and he can see how the red slowly creeps up his neck. What person, he wonders, is having the displeasure of being at the end of the fire of fury.

Another hand layers on top of his, grabbing his attention away from the unfolding scene. He studies their hands for a moment before finally facing her.

“Y/n,” she speaks up, gently. “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

The crevices of his dimples slowly sink in. “Harry.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #one direction #one direction fanfiction #writing

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