#listen i got more to say if anyone ever wants to know lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viperbarnes · 2 years

Text

No Strings Attached

Ex!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: “Every time you’ve called me, I’ve come,” Steve says, voice thick with hurt, and you clench your teeth. “Every. Time.”

Warnings: smut! language, hurt, exes to lovers <3

Notes: this is one of my fave oneshots i've ever written tbh. i really love the trope of people breaking up, because of xyz issue, and then the person with xyz issue actively works to resolve or change it, but with no expectation of reuniting, just because they want to be a better person. so ye, that's basically this whole fic lmao

Words: 15,849

You make a sort of doe-eyed blank expression as you listen, that makes your building’s security guard duck his head a little lower into your line of sight and wave his hand.

“Ma’am?” You blink suddenly, snapping out of your spiralling thoughts and focus back on the man’s face.

“Huh?”

He smiles sympathetically and repeats himself.

“I asked if you had anybody who might come stay with you tonight? Super said he can’t get a hold of anybody who can change your lock…” You sigh and look around him at your door, it’s lock busted and breaking through the wood of the door.

You’d arrived home to find it like that, although the cops the security guy had insisted on calling said that it looked like no thief actually made it inside, probably got spooked. Seeing as none of your stuff was stolen or out of place, you’d have said they were right.

You run a hand over your hair and sigh.

“Uhm. Yeah. Yeah I do.” You nod your head, not actually coming up with a name off the top of your head, but you’re sure you’ll think of someone once you have a moment to breathe. The security guard nods.

“Do you want me to wait until they get here?” You smile and shake your head.

“Oh, no, no… it’s fine! I’ll be okay until then!” You assure him. You know he got paid for every hour he spent on the door, and not for any he didn’t.

He checks with you twice more before he leaves, and you shut your busted door behind him, slipping your side table in front of it in the meantime before you fumble through your bag for your phone.

You stare at your home screen for a solid two minutes, mind going over the people you’d feel comfortable calling, who you’d actually feel safe having stay with you overnight, and for the life of you, you can only come up with one name.

Unfortunately, this name belonged to your ex.

It wasn’t as if you and Steve Rogers hadn’t broken up amicably, or at least, you hadn’t ended badly, but for a moment you debate with yourself on if you really need to call anyone at all. You think about sleeping, knowing your apartment door was basically open.

You bring up his contact.

The first thing you see is a list of past calls and texts, the date signalling that the last time you’d called him had been almost seven months ago, and for a moment your eyes linger on that.

Seven months? It hardly felt like it, really.

You and Steve had met through work. You worked in the forensics at Avengers Tower, and so you’d occasionally see each other when the team had lab work to be done. It had been a slow progression for him to ask you out, and when he had, the two of you dated successfully for an entire year. Things were always slow with Steve, due in part to his schedule making it hard to really get anything done. If he wasn’t on a mission, he was resting from a mission, and the times you did go out or see one another were a lot less than you would have liked.

It’s why you broke up.

Steve was a great guy, the best you’d ever dated, but his work was his first true love and honestly? You required more attention than he could give. You weren’t needy exactly, but when you made a plan, you tended to expect to follow through. Steve’s last minute missions, or his cancelling and rescheduling was understandable in his line of work, and if had only been every so often, you’d have been just fine.

But it wasn’t, and you weren’t.

And so… you’d broken up. You’d explained to him that while you really liked him, you just didn’t mesh well together. He’d been understandably upset, but had told you he got it. You’d parted on good terms, with only a residual sadness lingering behind. Even now, you felt a small jolt of angst at even seeing his name written. Really, Steve was your perfect guy, and if he’d ever been around, you might’ve been able to experience more of that perfection.

You shake your thoughts aside and tap the call button, bringing the phone to your ear and waiting as the dial tone rings out. You can’t help but chew your lip as you wait, anxiety beginning to well up.

What if he didn’t answer?

What if he was on a mission?

What if he saw your name, and then didn’t answe—

“Hello?” You nearly gasp at hearing his voice, seven months suddenly feeling longer than before and you swallow thickly to remember why you were even calling in the first place.

“Steve… hey, it’s uh, me…”

“Yeah, I… I have caller ID on this phone.”

“Finally switch from the flip, huh?” You can’t help but shoot back, smile covering your features when you hear his warm chuckle on the other side.

“Yeah, it was time to change things up… Is everything okay?” Maybe he can hear it in your voice, or maybe he’s just that confused as to why you’re randomly calling him at ten on a Tuesday night, but you hear a note of concern in his reply that makes you want to curl up into a ball.

“Um… not really, no… I got home a little while ago and someone had tried breaking into my place—”

“—What? Are you okay? Did they take anything?!” You chuckle awkwardly at his immediate worry.

“Yeah, no— I mean, yes I’m okay, no they didn’t take anything.” You assert, and can practically see him letting out a breath.

“Uhm… I do have a favour to ask though, and I wouldn’t call if I had anybody else, but—”

“—Of course, whatever it is, just let me know.” You let out a shaky sigh and swallow again.

“The lock on my door is busted, and my super can’t get anybody in to fix it until tomorrow… I just… really don’t want to sleep here alone, with a broken door…” On the other side of the line you can hear keys clinking, and feel your tummy flop in dangerous ways.

“I’m coming out now. You want me to stay on the line?” You could fall to your knees and praise every god in existence for the special kind of beautiful Steve Rogers was.

“No, I’m okay, I just don’t wanna be alone later…” You cringe a little at how that might sound like a proposition, but Steve only hums.

“‘Course. I’ll see you in ten.”

When you hang up, you stare down at your phone for a few seconds.

And then you promptly drop it, head whipping around your messy living-kitchen space and quickly get to work tidying it to a presentable degree.

—-

Steve arrives almost exactly ten minutes later, the light knocking on your door followed by his voice.

“Hey, it’s just me!” He says, and you hurry to slide your end table out of the way, your door pretty much swinging open by itself.

For a moment you can only stare at him, dark blue jeans, white t-shirt, brown leather jacket. He’d grown his beard out since you saw him last, thick and golden and groomed just right to hit you in the lady parts. He seems fixated on you as well, though recovers far more gracefully, eyes dipping to look at your splintered door and he whistles.

“When you said it was busted, you meant it huh?” He asks, and you laugh, a little awkwardly, pulling the door wider as you usher him inside.

“Yeah… cops said they must have gotten scared off before they got inside. None of my stuff is missing or moved.” You explain, closing the door behind him, and when he sees you move for the table, steps forward to help you, looking at your makeshift barricade up and down for a moment when you’re done.

“Good. That’s good.” You look up at him again as silence falls upon your apartment, and find he’s already looking back at you. Realising you hadn’t even changed from work yet, and you’d cried a little bit after discovering the break-in, you attempt to smooth your hair down and wipe any potential makeup from under your eyes.

“Jesus, I must look like a mess.” You sort-of apologise, trying to play it off with a chortle, but Steve shakes his head, smiling kindly.

“Not at all.” Is all he says, and you hate the fact the completely non-committal sentence makes your belly flop again.

“Oh, uh, can I get you anything? Coffee, tea? I think I have a six pack in the fridge…?” You gesture to your kitchen, but move for your fridge anyway, Steve shoving his hands in his pockets as he follows, shrugging his shoulders. You find the beer behind your salad, and pull it out.

“Well, I’m having one.” You tease, setting the pack on the counter as you attempt to pull a bottle from the plastic rings. Maybe you’re just too exhausted, maybe this particular plastic was just stronger than you, but it doesn’t budge and Steve steps forward, hands already out.

“Let me…” He offers, even as you let him take your chosen bottle from you, tearing it out as if it were nothing. It likely wasn’t, for him, and you swallow, the room feeling warmer suddenly.

“Thanks. Help yourself.” You nod to the pack, a little thankful he takes one too, placing the rest back in your fridge.

“I uhm, I might go shower and change, I haven’t even thought about that yet…” You gesture down at yourself again, and Steve nods.

“Whatever you need.” He tells you, and then points to your couch.

“Mind if I watch the game?” You frown, but nod anyway.

“Who’s playin’?” You both move over into your living room, and you quickly find and toss him your remote.

“Mets vs Giants.” He says, and you ‘ah’, watching for a moment as he flicks to the right channel, your eyes finding the score and you wince, turning back to him.

“Hope you don’t have any bets on your boys.” You say, faux-sympathy dripping from your voice. Steve gives you an unimpressed eyebrow, pointing at you.

“We’ll come back.”

“If it makes you feel better.” You tack on, but burst into a laugh as he rolls his eyes, making himself comfortable on your couch. You note with mild amusement he takes the same spot he would always take up, before you’d broken up. Apparently one of your couch cushions was just comfier than the rest.

You leave him there to go get cleaned up at last, and relish in the hot water as you do little more than just stand under it for ten minutes. Despite your stress from the past few hours, you feel oddly light, Steve’s sudden reappearance back in your life, in your apartment making you feel a little woozy, but only in a good way.

You try to tell yourself that it was only because your breakup had been so amicable, if he were any of your other ex’s you wouldn’t be feeling the way you do…

You dry off and dress quickly, throwing your hair up before stepping back out into the living room. Crossing your arms over your chest in some subconscious way of shutting yourself off to how damn good he looked, you take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, grabbing your beer again and tipping it back.

“Cops get the security footage from the hall?” He asks, one hand around the neck of the bottle he rests on his thigh, the other thrown over the back of the couch toward you, almost invitingly. You blink for a moment as you process his question and hum.

“Yeah. But it’ll probably get written off if the guy didn’t, you know, look straight into the camera or something. You know how they are.” Steve tears his eyes from the TV and looks at you with a frown.

“You get a case number? I’ll follow up tomorrow, make sure they—” Before you can really stop yourself, you cut him off.

“—Steve you don’t have to do that.” The blond shuts his mouth, and you can practically hear the words unspoken.

‘Because you aren’t my boyfriend’. For a moment you can both only stare, until Steve nods and looks away, his brow smoothing out as he relaxes, but the tick in his jaw tells a different story.

“Well, let me know if you need to…” You can’t help but smile a little, behind the rim of your beer, and you take another sip before turning back to the game.

The Mets make a comeback and you finish the night cursing under your breath. You weren’t a Giants fan by any means, but you made a habit of rooting for anybody going against the Mets.

Steve helps you pack away the light snacks and empty beer bottles, all the while wearing a smug grin, and you can’t even stay too annoyed. Smug and playful was always a good look on him.

As you put away the last of the rubbish, you yawn a little and check the time.

“I might head to bed… I’ll get you some pillows and stuff…” You announce, and ignore when he looks up at you in favour of making for the linen closet. You do however grab the pillow from your bed that you know he used to favour, and lay it all out on the couch. When you look up again, Steve is pulling his jacket from his shoulders, and laying it over the back of the opposite couch.

“Uhm, if you need to leave, could you just wake me up?” You ask, stepping back, and Steve frowns deeply, cocking his head.

“Leave? Why would I need to leave?”

“I don’t know… if you’re needed, I guess…” You shrug, shifting awkwardly and for a few seconds Steve’s face filters through a few emotions. Confusion, concern, offence, and then some sort of resignation.

“I— you know if you really needed me, I wouldn’t leave… right?” He asks, and you feel something stir in your chest. It isn’t exactly positive like all the other feelings you’d been having tonight, more like a sting of annoyance, of hurt and you purse your lips, shrugging again and looking to the side.

“I don’t know. You’re important, I’m sure people would need you a lot more than me.” You don’t mean to sound so passive aggressive, but you can’t help it.

He’d never made a point of making sure he’d be around before, the fact you even caught him on an off night is surprising to you. Steve’s brow dips and he opens his mouth, but you cut him off once again, pointing to the kitchen.

“Feel free to take whatever you want from the fridge, I’ll make sure not to sleep in too much… goodnight, Steve.”

You turn on your heel and don’t wait for a reply, shutting your bedroom door behind you. You know he can still hear whatever you do perfectly, so you don’t let out a sigh, or groan at your own fat-headedness, instead you switch off all your lights and settle under your covers.

In seven months you hadn’t felt out of place once in your room, but now, with Steve sleeping in the next room, your bed suddenly feels all too big.

—-

Strangely, despite your pass-agg comments, after that night you and Steve actually begin speaking again. At first it was just his texted check ups, making sure your door got fixed, making sure you were alright, making sure the cops did their jobs… it was sort of nice actually, to be friends with Steve again. He’d even shown his face down in forensics. You know his lack of attendance, Nat, Sam or Bucky showing up in his place, hadn’t been coincidental post your breakup, but the first day he shows up to deliver evidence for testing, you almost sigh at how much you’d missed seeing his face down there.

You actually think you become closer than you had been before, platonically that is. Steve doesn’t seem to make any moves toward rekindling your romance, and honestly? You were just fine with that. Steve was a great guy, but you couldn’t deal with his schedule… even if he did seem to be around more these days.

You don’t ask. You don’t even really think about it, instead chalking it up to good timing and coincidence.

You were wrong though.

Steve clinks the top of his glass with Sam’s as the man passes him his refilled drink, and the three men, including Bucky, settle back down around their seats on the Tower’s balcony.

“So, hey, can I ask you something?” Sam clears his throat some, and Steve cocks his head, gesturing for him to go ahead.

“You and Doc… are you guys like… getting back together, or…?” The blond squints, his face scrunching up a little as he looks off, sighing some.

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, but I mean, you went from not talking at all to hanging out again.” Bucky chimes in, and Steve shrugs, eyes finding his shoes.

“I don’t think she’s interested anymore. If friendship is all she wants, it’s what I’ll give.” Sam and Bucky make eye contact, sharing a frown between them and Sam leans forward slightly.

“Sure, but man, you changed up your whole shit for her… You don’t even wanna try again?” Steve sighs and finally looks back up at them.

“It wasn’t necessarily for her… but she was right. How am I supposed to foster any sort of relationship if I don’t make time for it? What we do is important, but I have to be able to prioritise other things. It’s not fair on anybody in my life.”

Bucky hums. He for one was glad Steve had taken a slight step back from the Avengers. Not only did it mean Sam and Rhodey were given more chances to lead, but it had upped the pressure on everyone slightly, in a good way. Previously Bucky would have felt anxious going on a solo mission with another member who wasn’t Steve or Sam, but now he regularly went on ops with Wanda, his bonds with other members growing immensely.

He clears his throat and reaches out to squeeze Steve’s shoulder some.

“I know how you felt about her, but I think you did the right thing.” Steve gives the dark-haired man a long look and a soft smile, ducking his head.

“What was that thing your Ma used to say?” He asks, and Bucky frowns a moment, before his face lights up again in recognition.

“‘Some folk only bless your life so you can learn from them’.” He says, and Steve hums, raising his glass.

“I’ll drink to that.”

—-

It’s late, you should really be asleep by now, but you’ve been lying awake for hours now. Springtime in New York made the night air warmer than you were used to, and the slightly hot feeling of your body was not helping.

You growl in annoyance and switch your vibrator off, tossing it lightly into the open drawer of your bedside table. Between your thighs your clit still throbs slightly, but you hadn’t been able to make yourself cum in the almost two hours you’d been trying, and your hand was going numb from all the vibrations.

You were damn near desperate. You needed to be fucked, good and proper and thoroughly. With only a moment's hesitation, you reach for your phone and tap out a text.

You up?

Steve: Is everything alright?

It’s fine. Come over?

There’s a minute or so where you see the three dots appear as Steve begins typing, before they disappear, and then reappear, only to disappear once more. You almost smile to yourself. He was unsure.

Come over, pleeeaaaseeee?

Steve: … Are you alright?

You huff this time, and purse your lips. You could be forward here and now, giving him an out, or you could wait till he arrived, which might be far less convenient for your pride if he rejected you.

I need you… please…

This time Steve doesn’t type and then retype his messages, instead you’re forced to stare at your read receipt for a full two minutes before a reply comes back, your body lighting on fire the second you process the four little words.

Steve: Be there in ten.

Anticipation builds in you like a storm, and you quickly straighten your sheets, spritz some perfume, fix your hair a little, and pull on a gown, all in time for the knock on your door. The sound is curt and tense and you swallow thickly as you hurry to answer it, sliding your locks back before swinging it open.

Steve stands once again in dark jeans, this time with a dark grey sweater on. His hair was slightly damp still, messy, and you figure he must have just gotten out of his the shower when you’d texted. His eyes find you quickly, a little wide, a little confused, and with all the desperation from the past two hours fueling you, you pounce on him.

You’re lucky he’s as stable and strong as he is, you throw yourself bodily at him, arms wrapping instantly around his neck, your lips pressing to his own hungrily and he returns in kind, one hand steadying you around your middle, the other tangling up into your hair at the back of your head. You almost mewl at the way his hand clutches at your scalp, and you let him walk you back inside, his foot kicking your door closed behind you.

You keep moving, until your back hits your kitchen bench, and you take the moment to pull open your gown, letting it fall to the floor as your hands move for his own sweatshirt. The fabric is quickly discarded, and you’re a little surprised to hear Steve’s groan at your skin on skin contact, his hands beginning to roam more adventurously now. You weren’t keen on messing around for too long, and you make quick work of his belt, letting him kick his shoes off before he shucks the jeans down himself, stepping out of them, all without pulling his lips from yours.

You sigh into his mouth as he captures your tongue with his own, bearing down on you intently, his hands holding you tightly against his own body like he was trying to pull you into himself. You let a hand drop from his face to the hardness against your abdomen and allow yourself to relish in the soft gasps Steve lets out when you pump your fist over him several times, before increasing your pressure, making him all out moan.

His lips fall away from yours, instead he trails sloppy kisses along your cheek and down your neck, pausing to adjust, widening his legs some. With your mouth free, you find the time to speak.

“This… this is just sex, alright? It’s not… it’s just sex…” You tell him, feeling how for a moment he pauses, and you dread it for a second when he pulls away a little to look down at you. His expression is unreadable, but he’s nodding soon, and you breathe out in relief.

“Gotcha.” Is all he says, and you’re forced to release his length as a moment later you’re hoisted up. Your legs wrap around him, even as you’re set on your countertop, and his mouth moves back to yours. It’s your turn to gasp when his hand drops between your thighs, fingers immediately dipping into the dampness at your core, a touch you’d been craving for too long.

“You really needed it that bad, you had to call me?” His voice is low, and you shiver. Steve’s bedroom talk was always amazing, and now, for some reason, the fact you weren’t even together makes it better. It felt dirtier, more obscene, and you nod, panting as he pulls his lips away from yours, his eyes falling to watch his hand slide from your folds.

You swallow, leaning back on the counter as he becomes more purposeful, two fingers prodding at your entrance, his thumb gravitating to your clit, already overstimulated. When he pushes his two fingers inside you, you let your head fall back and your eyes close, widening your legs even more to give him room to work as he begins slowly pumping back and forth.

“F-fuck…” You breathe, toes scrunching as his fingers move a little faster, curling them slightly to run along your g spot and you feel your legs start to quiver already. He seems to anticipate your squirming though, and uses his free hand to hold one leg, the other he keeps open with his own thigh, moving quicker now. A slower moment lets him insert another finger, and soon you’re clutching around his neck again, needing something tangible to hold on to as he strokes you to finish.

“Steve! Steve, fuck, don’t— please don’t— ah!” You try to catch your breath before you even lose it, but you only swallow down more air as you cum, your hips shaking involuntarily against his hand as he continues to ride you through it, thumb never letting up over your clit until your head lolls back once more.

You’re about to speak, praise him perhaps, when his fingers pull away, taking your hips instead and any words you have are punched out of you with the feel of his hands drawing you onto his cock. You scramble for a hold again, gasping and moaning at the same time as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck.

“Holy fuck…!” You whimper, Steve already curling his hips up and into you, all the while lifting you from the counter itself to bounce you against his standing lap.

He liked this, you remember, liked being able to hold you up all on his own, control the pace, control his movement and yours.

“That okay?” His lips move against your cheek and you nod vehemently, a hand carding through the back of his hair.

“Yes! Fuck, fuck, I need it!” You squeeze your eyes closed as he really starts setting a pace, and you feel that deep spot inside of you that hadn’t been touched in months begin to light up. Regardless of your relationship issues, Steve had always been good in bed, his body fitting into your perfectly, his desire matching up with yours similarly so.

“Yeah? You need it, baby? … shit, I’ll give it to you, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten honey, running over you warm and sticky sweet, and you can’t help it, you pout a little, nodding at his words.

“Please… please!” You whine. You know how much he loved to feel needed, in and out of the bedroom, but that didn’t mean your mewling was all for show. You’d finished once, yes, but you were so pent up you were still rearing to go and Steve’s cock pounding into you hurriedly was only spurring you on. You needed release and he was going to give it to you. Your mind always went a little hazy, a little blank when he’d have you like this, you’d do practically anything he asked, and he knew it.

“Come on, sweetheart, one more, wanna feel you squeeze me…” You whine again with his added words, his lips nipping your ear and you nod, face falling into the crook of his neck as he continues to pant and puff with effort. Your sounds start becoming shorter, more gasped and as he slows to level you with long, deep strokes, your orgasm rolls over you, gentler than the last, though powerful still, amplified by the feel of your cunt actually clutching, gripping onto something as your muscles tense and flutter.

Steve groans, keeps up the longer, slower strokes until you begin to relax again, and with little warning, pulls out. He presses his cock against your inner thigh, but pumps with one hand until he’s sighing airily, thick hot streams of cum streaking over your thigh and abdomen as you watch.

For some reason, all you can think about for a few seconds is how he’d never come on you before. Always inside you, condom or raw, and the change in behaviour confuses you for a moment, but you don’t intend on asking.

You both pant heavily, still partially leant against one another as you catch your breath, and you feel a slight awkwardness settle over you. Would things be weird now? Would he expect more from this? For a moment you have to admit it was nice being back in his arms, nice to pretend he was yours, but reality sets in and you cool off.

Even if he was still your boyfriend, he would never really be ‘yours’. Not while he shouldered so much of the world’s responsibilities.

Steve settles you back on the lip of the counter, and you jump slightly at how cool it feels against your bare skin. As you finally make eye contact, a pit opens in your gut. Steve after sex was always a sight to behold, his hair hanging in his face, his cheeks flushed red and his lips swollen and parted… it makes your stomach lurch in longing, and you quickly clear your throat, gently pushing him back so you can stand.

Finding your robe on the floor, you quickly pull it on despite the sweat covering your skin, and look back toward Steve, though you avoid his eye contact.

“Uhm, do you want to wash up before you go?” You know if sounds a bit harsh, but you’d made it clear to him before you’d properly gotten started that this was just sex. You couldn't bring yourself to expect anything more from him, and risk another broken heart.

Steve blinks, and you see a brief moment of hurt flash across his features before they harden somewhat, and he straightens, tucking himself back into his pants gingerly and collecting his sweatshirt.

“It’s alright, I… I’ll clean up at home.” He says, and you have to cross your arms over your chest at the tight feeling that begins constricting you.

“Okay.” Steve hesitates, looks at you a moment too long before he nods to the door.

“I’ll get out of here.” He says, sounding far more casual than he had a moment ago, as if nothing at all had just transpired between you, and you latch onto that ease, making it easier for you to play along too.

“No worries…” You trail him to the doorway, holding it open behind him as he steps through and turns around. His mouth is open, poised to say something but for some unknown reason you decide to cut him off, a hand shooting out to land on his arm, and you squeeze just a little.

“Thank you, Steve.” You want to cringe at the sound of thanking somebody after sex, but really, it was more about the fact for the second time in a row he actually came when you’d needed him… even if the second was a far more rival affair…

Steve blinks at you slowly from under his long lashes, in that dreamy way he does when he’s thinking something sweet or mushy, and again your insides twist. He only ducks his head further and swallows, a small smile pulling at his lips, far too innocent for the acts you’d just committed barely inside your doorway.

“Of course, uh, anytime…” You snort a little bit, rolling your eyes, but he gives you a final little wave before you shut your door behind him.

You’re left staring at your living room and kitchen counter, eyes fixated on the spot you’d been hauled up against just minutes ago. Your mind immediately begins the playback and you groan, remembering the mess still on your thighs and between them, suddenly more bothersome and uncomfortable than it had been previous, and you retreat to your shower, questioning yourself on if sleeping with your ex, who you’d only just begun talking to again, was a good idea.

—-

You walk in on Steve almost kissing someone.

It’s one of Tony’s parties, the big ones, where he invites everyone and absolutely insists everybody comes, even if he’s only on face-name basis with them. It was actually the first gathering you’d been to with the Avengers since you and Steve broke up, certainly the first since you’d started fucking again. It was good to see Sam and Bucky and the others outside of a work environment, and you think from their genuine smiles and the way Sam keeps talking you into one more round of pool, that maybe they missed you too.

You finally manage to duck out from under Sam’s arm, in search of a bottle of water, when you stumble into the private kitchen, where you’d been told the fridge was stocked full. At first your brain lights up.

Steve was in here! You’d hardly spoken to him all night! But then his hand registers, more specifically, the hip his hand is on registers, and your eyes suddenly piece together the scene before you.

A young woman, pretty, you think you know her from HR actually, leans with her back against the counter, her hands both wrapped around Steve’s biceps. One of his arms is around her waist, the other on her hip and they’re both smiling softly, if not shyly, heads so close their lips are barely apart when you accidentally squeak in surprise.

Steve pulls away instantly, even before he’s seen it’s you, and you realise that whoever this woman was to him, it was new. Steve was always a little skittish with PDA with new relationships. You’d seen it with Sharon, before yourself, and then again with your own relationship… and now with this.

“Oh! I—!” You feel your face go warm and you mouth wordlessly for a moment as you point to the fridge. The woman ducks her head in slight embarrassment and awkwardness and you do feel terrible, despite the wave of grief that overcomes you at the fact Steve was actually moving on.

Not that he wasn’t allowed to… you just hadn’t thought he’d do it first.

“Uh, just, water…” You stutter, suddenly feeling rather sick. Steve follows your pointing, even as you begin to move, avoiding his eyes. It shouldn’t be so weird! The situation the two of you had was strictly no strings attached! Steve was allowed to start dating, so were you! Still… that didn’t mean you wanted to walk in on him about to lay it on a woman that wasn’t you.

You rush out of the room with your water before anybody can gain enough sense to actually talk, and you tuck yourself back between Sam and Nat quickly.

You spy Steve and the woman leaving the kitchen a short while later, and though you don’t see even a bit of smudged lipstick or beard burn, your mind starts to whir in anger. But you know it's unjustified, and you curse yourself for being nearly a year out of your relationship, and still jealous. You consider breaking it off with Steve in the coming week, but your mind wanders back to the way he’d tipped his head back in a moan only days before, the thick column of his throat bobbing as he swallowed, his hands bruising on your hips as you rode him hard.

You decide instead that you’ll just act as if you’d never seen anything at all in the kitchen.

—-

Moving on is… hard.

Not necessarily out of some romantic idea that Steve was ‘The One’, in fact you’re more resolved against anything romantic with him now than you were before, more so because you were… picky.

Even if you lower your standards, every guy you seem to give a chance ends up firmly in your ‘no’ pile after a few dates or less. Most of the time it was because your interests didn’t align, you found them boring or you just weren’t attracted to each other, but occasionally one slips through.

Tom, his name was and Tom was nice. He was polite, handsome, you could talk about both shared interests and your jobs (he worked for the city morgue). Tom was good. You were still unsure of anything long term, or anything serious at all for that matter, but for someone to hang out with and occasionally be kissed by, you could do a lot worse than Tom.

He takes you out almost like clockwork every Friday or Saturday night since you’d met (that was four dates so far), you’d get dinner, maybe some drinks, walk around for a bit, and then he’d kiss you goodbye at your door. It was sweet. Tonight though, tonight you aren’t after sweet at all.

A SHIELD agent you know has her birthday, or maybe it’s a joint party? You aren’t sure, all you know is that it’s at a club, you look hot as hell, and if Tom doesn’t put his hands on you later you’ll burst at the seams.

The club is dark and loud, meant for dancing and drinking, not conversation and polite small talk, and the moment the bouncer sees you inside, you grab Tom by the hand and drag him along, a wicked smile thrown over your shoulder. You do the customary rounds, saying hello to people you know, introducing Tom. You even manage to figure out who the birthday girl is, and give her a hug. You’re aware when you lean over the table to do so that your already short skirt rides up further, and you’re aware tom is standing right behind you, watching.

You make sure not to drink much, you had plans for later after all, but you act a little giddier than you are, letting your hand linger on Tom’s thigh, holding on to him more than normal. You coax him out to the dance floor and that's where you get him. Hot bodies writhe to a beat, pressed up against one another, it doesn’t seem as obscene in the dark. You grind your hips back into Tom’s, his hands snaking their way around your hips and you smile, because you know.

In the dim light and through the throng of bodies, a flash of familiar stops you for a moment. Blonde hair, wide shoulders, beard, beer in hand, untouched… You swallow for a second as you make eye contact with Steve. He must have been invited too, must not have had a mission to go on to get out of it either. Before he can lift an eyebrow or do anything at all, you look away, wrapping your arms around Tom’s shoulders, you lean into his ear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

This… this had not been what you’d had in mind.

Your bedroom is lit only by a spare few candles that flicker your shadows against the wall, and you watch them absently for a second longer, before dropping to rest on your elbows, your body moving in the rythmeric back and forth each time Tom’s hips gently buck into yours.

He can’t see your face since he’s got you on your hands and knees, and you’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could fake it even if you tried. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good, it was just… you aren’t sure… he touched you like he wasn’t supposed to, and if you’re honest it felt less like he was having sex with you and more like he was just having sex. You could be anyone right now, and he probably wouldn’t care.

Tom pants and moans and then stops, his hips stuttering gently before he pulls out and away from you.

“Bin in the bathroom?” He asks, and you plaster on your best post-sex look, and nod, rolling over in time to see him disappear into your ensuite to dispose of the condom. When he returns, you go about cleaning yourself up.

“That was great.” He chimes, and you offer him a smile. At least somebody had fun, though you note a little bitterly how he hadn’t even asked about you. Maybe Tom wasn’t so nice.

“Yeah!” You enthuse. You already knew he wasn’t going to stay the night, he’d made sure to tell you as much before you’d begun. You pull on a gown and help him dress and gather his things.

At the front door he kisses you chastely, and tells you he’ll call in the morning. Mentally, you cross him off your list, and close your door.

You seeth while you change your sheets, getting angrier and angrier over your situation. You should have known from the start there was no spark with Tom, you shouldn’t have tried to kid yourself! And he should have at least tried to make you cum!

A quick glance at the time tells you it's not too late, and you send off a text, expecting a gentle refusal.

What you don’t expect however, is Steve arriving at your apartment twenty minutes later, angry as all hell, and he all but pushes past you when you’ve opened the door, coming to stand in your living room with his hands on his hips, his brow low and his lips in a thin line.

“Are you serious?” He asks at last, when you’ve stood staring at one another for long enough. He gestures absently, but his hand comes back to his hip.

“Wha—”

“—Don’t.” He says sharply, and you shut your mouth. This was different… you’d never really seen Steve angry before, let alone angry with you… it doesn’t at all help your current situation though, and you swallow, adjusting your stance.

“You know damn well I saw you leave with him earlier! I can smell the sex in the air. You haven’t had enough already tonight?” The words are harsh and hurt lances through you momentarily, before defensiveness takes over and you cross your arms over your chest, lifting your chin a little.

“Excuse me? Who I spend time with and how is none of your business!” Steve scoffs and looks off for a moment, a mirthless smile on his face.

“Right. But you still want me to fuck you after anyway.” The vulgarity is new as well, and it occurs to you in the back of your mind, that he must be really pissed with you.

“If you didn’t want to come, you should have just said no!” You say, your voice sounding a little more shrill and a little more crackly than you want it too. All your bravado aside, Steve was imposing when he was angry, and the fact that anybody yelling at you, let alone him, was enough to make you cry, gives your voice a shake you didn’t ask for. Not to mention that you really hadn’t expected him to show up at all, especially angry.

Steve looks back at you, his fuming expression not exactly subsiding, but it softens some, and he drops one hand from his hip to rub at his brow before he looks back up at you, more exasperated now than anything else.

“Why did you call me?” He sounds tired, but you know an olive branch when you see one, and you snatch it, stepping closer, ducking your head.

“Why do you think…?” You shrug and purse your lips before looking up at him again.

“He was shit. You aren’t.” His shoulders square just a little at your words, and you know it's a bit of a low blow, any guy was likely to be more inclined to having sex with you if you compared him positively incomparison with another man. Steve cocks his head, lids dipping slightly and you know you’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.

“Is that right?” You’re right in front of each other now and you let your hands wind up around his neck, playing demure as he fixes you with a knowingly amused look, his hands landing firmly at your waist.

“Mhmn.” You hum, nodding, shrugging once again.

“He didn’t know how.” You say, pouting as Steve dips his face closer to yours, and again you find yourself pretending that this wasn’t just sex, that these arms where ones you could be wrapped in whenever you wanted.

“Didn’t know how to what?” Steve asks, voice deep and rumbly in his throat, his breath coasting over your lips, and you lean in quick, nipping at his mouth chastley, feeling his hands tighten at your waist.

“Didn’t know how to take care of me.” Magic words, really. Steve is on you in seconds, mouth devouring your own, the warmth of him engulfing and you let yourself sink into the fever.

Perhaps some of that anger still simmers under the surface, because he fucks you hard, his thrusts just a little more pointed, his fingers digging a little deeper into your skin. His teeth nibble at your lower lip making you keen for him with another gasp as his hips snap against yours once again.

He’s covering you completely, chest to chest, his arms rest around your head, caging you in, and you grasp onto him wherever you can, hiking your thighs higher around him as he drives into you quickly.

“You know, if I wanted to make a point,” Steve begins, his voice raspy and puffed slightly, and you peel your eyes open to look at him, his face so close to yours it almost makes you cross-eyed.

“I’d not make you cum either.” He finishes, and you start, a slight wave of panic setting in, and you open your mouth to preemptively beg, but then he’s shifting, a hand sliding between your sweaty bodies, fingers pawing until they find your clit, and you suck in air sharply.

Steve wears a lazy but wicked grin, and he begins swirling his fingers over your bundle of nerves, dropping his face low enough that when he speaks his lips brush over yours.

“But I like watching you cum while I fuck you.” As your breathing shallows, Steve seems to swallow down each short breath, eyes never leaving your face as you quickly feel your release creep up on you, his harsh, deep strokes combined with the rough pads of his fingertips rapidly spinning circles and you’re falling.

Steve uses his body to hold you down, prevent you from shaking or jerking too much as you topple over the edge of release, your pussy clutching onto his cock even as he grunts, continuing to grind into you as you call out his name over and over.

He drops his face to your neck as your senses come back to you, your brain feeling light and your eyesight a little dimmed from the sensations. You know any second now he’ll pull out, jerk himself until he spills on your stomach or thigh like he always seemed to nowadays, but something ticks in your brain, raw and primal and you hook your ankles as best you can behind him, raking your fingernails over his back in marks that will disappear by morning.

“She tighter than me, Steve?” You feel his head start to lift a little, but you gently bite at his earlobe, stopping him.

“Does she feel this good when you’re fucking her?” Something switches then in the atmosphere of the room, he picks up his pace again, and you jump when one hand fists in the back of your head, pulling your neck back and away. Steve glares down at you, though his game is half given away by the grunt he gives a second later.

“Shut up.” He says, though it isn’t half as harsh as you expect, and he rolls his eyes some, dropping his lips down to your exposed throat now and you feel a thrill run through you.

“Does she let you fuck her like this or is it gentle missionary only?” You press on, yelping a little when teeth scrape at your skin warningly, and the hand in your hair tightens, pulling.

“Because you know I’d let you have me any which way… on my knees, under you, over you… fuck,” You pause, panting a little with effort as he fucks you even harder, each word punched out of you.

“Fuck, I’d let you have my ass if you brought the lube…” Triumph colours you as Steve groans, gasping almost, his fist at your scalp a little painful as he curls his hips deep once, twice, three times more before you feel him finish, and he stills.

Your bodies are hot and sticky with sweat against one another, and you can feel him shake a little in his come down as he finally relaxes.

Like always, in the aftermath you’re both silent for a few moments before Steve lifts his head, his chest heavy against your own, and he fixes you with a unconvincingly unamused expression.

“Thought I told you to shut up?” He asks, shifting to hold up more of his own weight, and you pretend to not hear him, cocking your head.

“Towel?” He seems to relent, rolling off of you and sinking into your mattress as you hop up, moving to your bathroom to grab a spare towel.

When you return, you almost falter for a few seconds in the doorway, swallowing thickly. Steve lies on your bed, one arm hooked under his head, naked as anything, looking like he belonged there. Your chest lurches, and your stomach falls to your knees as you force yourself to keep moving, gently tossing the towel at him as you gather your gown once again.

You’ll shower when he’s gone.

“Really that bad, huh?” He asks when he’s drying his hair, his underwear now pulled up around his hips, and you sigh, smiling slightly.

“Honestly… I think I’m pretty forgiving, but he didn’t even try. I’m the one who had to suggest we change positions even!” It’s easy to fall into this routine with Steve, especially after you’ve both been satiated, but it’s not really a dynamic that exists anywhere else at any other time.

At work you were friendly but professional, around friends you were polite but never seemed to stray too close (neither of you wanted a particular redhead in your business), and you made a point of not hanging out outside of that. You were already sleeping together, that was more than enough. Anything more would just make you hope, and hope would only let you down.

Steve was still Steve. He was still the guy everyone turned to in a crisis, he was still the man on the ground nine times out of ten. You broke up for a reason, and you needed to keep that in mind.

Steve shoots you a wince and scrunches his nose as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders and pops his head through the hole.

“I’m sorry for… yelling.” He says after he’s pulled on his pants, and you frown, looking away.

“Don’t be… I probably shouldn’t have called you.” You say, missing the dip in his brows when you don’t look away from one of your flickering candles. Steve purses his lips as he threads his belt through his pants, but shrugs.

“You should just tell him, if you like him”

“Nah… I don’t think there’s much there for me anyway. I don’t know.” You wave him off and stand as he pulls on his jacket. This part was always the most awkward.

“Whatever you want.” He readies his keys and you move with him to the door. You always felt like you were missing something in your goodbye’s, but a hug or a kiss or a thank you was the exact last thing you wanted to do.

Keep it casual.

Steve pauses at your door, his expression unreadable and you fold your arms over your chest, flashing him an easy smile.

“Drive safe, Steve.”

“Goodnight. Sleep well.”

—-

“Wait, what?” You turn in your seat to look at your coworker Lucy, who nods, and finishes her mouthful of yoghurt.

“Yeah, right! Two in the morning and I’m getting calls to analyse samples as if I’m at the off—”

“—No, I meant…” You trail off, mind whirring, trying to think over the details you knew already.

“I didn’t know they’d gone on a mission…” You finish with instead, sitting back in your chair.

It wasn’t like you knew the Avengers schedule off my heart, or that it was your job to know everytime they left the tower. It made sense as to why Steve hadn’t been talkative the past few days though… Still, he’d confirmed that your ‘meeting’ was still happening this afternoon, even though you’d just gotten word that the team was landing in two hours.

Lucy chitters on until your half-day ends, at which point you quickly pack up your things and make your way to the elevator. You consider calling in to the upper floors, the residential ones, to speak with the man himself, but you decide against it. It wasn’t like you were a regular up there, it would be weird and raise questions, not to mention that given his recent return from a mission, he was likely in debriefings or writing up his reports.

You pull out your phone instead and send off a quick text.

‘Just heard you got in from an assignment… Do you want to reschedule this afternoon? I know you’re probably tired as hell…?’

Steve doesn’t reply right away, and honestly you don’t expect him too. You make it all the way home before your phone buzzes, and you find yourself staring for several minutes at the words on the screen.

S: ‘I’m happy to come over, if you’re still free. I’m totally fine.’

You send him a quick confirmation, but can’t help but chew on your lip. Part of you wonders why he’d bother. You know he was lying about being fine, super soldier or not, everybody liked their downtime after an extremely stressful few days, and coming to your ex-girlfriend’s house for a hookup wasn’t exactly that… then again, maybe he really needed his itch scratched. Who were you to judge?

You’d finished your day at two, which was nice, and you do a quick clean up of your apartment before Steve was set to arrive at four. You shower and change and throw a little bit of makeup on, finishing just as your doorbell rings.

When you open the door, you can see right away that he’d been lying about being fine. Maybe nobody else would notice, but you had spent a considerable amount of time around Steve, and you could pick out his undereye bags straight away. To anybody else he’d look completely normal, but his shoulders slump just so, his smile just a little too tight.

“Hey.” He greets as you step aside, letting him kiss your cheek as he enters. You don’t know when that became a thing, but it was something you’d seen him do with a few of his female friends, so you let it slip, knowing it wasn’t just you.

“Hey…” You shoot back, suspicion slightly etched on your words. Steve immediately rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he hangs his jacket on the back of your couch.

“I’m fine.” He tells you pointedly and you decide that you can’t be bothered arguing. It was his choice to come, if he didn’t really want to, then he’d have to deal with that like a big boy.

Casual conversation ensues, he asks about your week, you tell him the hot goss in the forensics lab, and then somehow from that very enticing subject, you end up on your bed, Steve hovering just over you, lips pressed hotly against your own. Despite yourself, not all your hook ups with Steve were hot and heavy and quick. You missed making out with someone, the build up of it all, and even though you told yourself it was dangerous territory, you went there anyway.

Steve’s hands trail slowly up your body, feeling you over your clothes, and then under. You get rid of his shirt fairly quickly, his shoes kicked off already, and not for the first time, you just relish in being held, the fantasy that this was real, and you weren’t casually sleeping with your ex-boyfriend. Steve plants his knee between your legs when you scratch at the back of his head, a groan following shortly after as his fingers work to find the bottom of your shirt and get it up. You part for only seconds when he pulls it over your head, throwing it to the edge of the bed. You hadn’t bothered putting a bra on, leaving you already exposed. Steve may be Captain America, a symbol of a nation and whatever else, but he was still a man, and the second he can, he’s got his lips pressed to the skin of your neck and rapidly descending, hands groping appreciatively at your breasts.

His mouth leaves hot kisses down your throat, over your chest, and you’re so ready to feel his lips take over from where his thumb brushes over your nipple when the doorbell rings.

You both pause a moment, Steve lifting his head and you groan, scrunching up your face as the bell is joined by rapid knocking. Steve smiles, cheeks a little pink, and shifts off of you, already reaching for the nearest shirt. It’s his, but you don’t think he’ll mind much as you slip it over your head and shoot him an apologetic glance as he makes himself comfortable on your pillows, placing an arm behind his head.

“Sorry, just… give me a moment…”

“It’s fine.” Steve waves off your apologies as you jog from the room to your front door.

It’s a package you have to sign for, but the courier brings up the wrong electronic form, and you’re forced to wait impatiently as his slow device loads the correct one instead. You’re trying to remain polite, trying not to tap your foot or your fingers, but by the time you’re closing your door again, you don’t even stop to look at what the package is, chucking it onto your couch and all but racing back to your bedroom.

“Just a courier, but while I’m up, do you want a be—” You cut yourself off, coming to a stop in your doorway, eyes landing on the sight laid out before you. Steve lays against your decorative cushions, shirtless, his arm no longer behind his head, instead now he’s curled on his side, another pillow stuffed between his arms where he squeezes it, eyes shut tight, mouth slightly ajar.

Your heart skips several beats, the urge to squeal at how adorable he looks only overruled by the odd stirring in your stomach at how much you missed seeing him in your bed. And then that thought is cancelled out by your guilt.

For Steve to actually fall asleep unintended, he must have been exhausted. You really should have insisted on rescheduling…

He stirs a little, humming softly and adjusting his hold on the pillow he was cuddling and you start. You should wake him up and send him home. You weren’t dating, you were only tentatively friends. You were just sleeping together, nothing else.

But you don’t.

Instead, you move to your laptop in the living room. You had stuff you could stand to get done. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

You end up logging back into your work server and ticking off several tasks on your to-do list, losing track of time in the process. It isn’t until nearly seven when you notice, at which point you send a glance back to your bedroom doorway, before pulling up your local pizza places’ online ordering site.

Steve wakes not too long after, his footsteps purposefully loud, and you turn again to look at him as he exits your room, scratching his head and looking for all the world like an embarrassed child.

“For someone who wasn’t at all tired and was totally fine, you sure did take a midafternoon nap.” You tease and he gives you a thin, apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry… I—”

“—It’s fine, Steve. Besides, I ended up clearing off my schedule for the week, so that’s nice.”

He still looks bashful, even as he takes a seat opposite you at the table.

“Do you want me to head out?” He asks, and you wave him off, standing up to move to your fridge.

“Nah. Unless you want to. But I ordered pizza a little while ago. Figured you’d be hungry. Beer?”

Steve blinks and you see him processing his choices, but he eventually nods, and you pull two bottles, cracking them open and handing one to him as you take your seat again.

“Beer and pizza isn’t exactly how I’d expected tonight to go, but you know, it’s up there.” You shrug, and Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” He asks.

“I’m just saying, I’ve had some interesting sex in my time, but I’ve never actually had a guy fall asleep on me before…” You both laugh, and trade jabs until your food arrives.

Steve offers to get it, which you don’t protest, grabbing some plates and moving your drinks to the couch instead. You realise, when you take a look back at him handing some cash to the delivery guy, that you’re still wearing his shirt, and groan internally.

You change quickly, pulling on your own clothes, and chucking Steve back his own when you return to the living room. He’s sat in ‘his’ seat once again, and he only lifts an eyebrow at you when he catches his shirt, before pulling it on. You don’t even pretend to not stare at the way his body stretches and moves when he does, and he doesn’t pretend not to notice.

“You know, I was gonna ask for it back when I woke up.” He tells you as you both start grabbing slices to put on your plates.

“Oh?”

Steve ums, and settles back in his seat as you search for something to play on the tv.

“But I kinda miss seeing you in my clothes.” He says, and you pause.

You fight the urge to look at him, and even though your heart beats loudly in your ears at his confession, you try to go on as if what he’d said was totally normal.

“Um, have you ever seen this one?” You point to the screen, displaying the rundown of a show you’d heard some of your coworkers talking about, and Stev shakes his head.

“Clint talks about it, but I haven’t had the time.” He shrugs and you press play.

Eventually, you find yourself relaxing again, one of you occasionally piping up to chat some shit about how unrealistic or contrived the show was, and eating your fill (and then some) of pizza. It’s weirdly casual, in a way you truly haven’t felt around Steve in a long time, but just like when you’re doing far less casual things together, it’s easy to just pretend for a while.

You fall asleep on your couch sometime after midnight, and in the morning wake up in your bed, your living room devoid of beer bottles and pizza boxes, all the remains plated and covered in your fridge. You want to be angry at yourself for allowing your interactions with Steve to go beyond the physical, but you can’t.

For the rest of your day there’s a lightness in your steps and a softness to your thoughts, as you permit yourself this one, silly, selfishness.

—-

One pizza and netflix night turns into two, and then somehow your hookups with Steve become less about sex and more about the company. You still sleep together, of course, but more often than not, you’ll find yourselves too tired for anything. Steve sits on your bed and borrows your laptop to type up reports, and you beside him, a friendly distance away, scrolling through your phone or finishing the latest book you’d started.

You don’t think about it.

But it’s nice.

Natasha and Bucky stop by your lab on a friday night and subsequently invite you to join the rest of the group for drinks that evening. You don’t even feel hesitant to accept, and you don’t think about that either.

You can’t be bothered going home to change and then come back, so you head right up when you clock off. The team is already in good form, lounging around a set of coffee tables on the upper level, several empty bottles already littering the space. The huge glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony have been pulled wide open, and Sam and Clint stand at the grill, trying to out-fry each other.

“You look nice.” Steve tells you, greeting you with a casual half-hug. He foregoes the kiss on the cheek this time, and you don’t think about it.

“Really?” You ask, genuinely amused.

“I came straight from work and I feel like I’ve been sweating in this dress all day.”

Steve grins and shrugs.

“You look nice.” He repeats, eyes not leaving you until Nat calls your attention away.

“Geez Rogers, she’s been here for five seconds and you haven’t offered her a drink?!” The redhead teases from behind the nearby bar, and you laugh, playfully shoving Steve in the arm.

“Yeah, where are you manners?!”

Steve holds up his hands in defeat, still smiling, and you move with him to the bar.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.” Natasha winks, and you wave a hand, letting her mix you some concoction you don’t catch the contents of.

“I may regret this in the morning but; I trust you.”

Nat only laughs again as Steve reaches over the bar to grab himself another beer, and you watch, unconcerned with who could be watching you. When your drink is made, you clink glasses, and move to where the others all sit. His hand grazes your lower back as you walk, but you don’t think about it.

Night falls and food is served. More drinks and more laughs, and when you’ve returned to the bar to fetch a couple more martinis for the fellas now crowding around the pool table, one Sam Wilson slides against your side.

“Good to see you make it tonight.” He nods, his signature grin spread across his face. You chuckle and shrug.

“I really needed to take a load off.”

Sam nods and looks over his shoulder as several cheers erupt from the ongoing game, before he’s staring back at you once again.

“You and Steve back on or…?” The question doesn’t totally shock you, but you still give a friendly scoff, and shake your head.

“No… Definitely not.”

Sam’s brow furrows and he cocks his head.

“We’re just friends again. That’s it. Steve’s a great guy, but…” You trail off, and shake your head once more. Sam shifts to face you and lifts an eyebrow.

“You guys aren’t subtle, you know that right? And I know you ain’t calling him to come fix your sink every other night.”

Your face grows warm and you roll your eyes.

“So what? Doesn’t mean we’re together. We just know each other. It’s comfortable.” You shrug and Sam hums in a disbelieving way.

“Look, Steve is… Steve. He’ll always be more tied to his work than anything, or any one else, and that’s fine. I just know I can't expect more from him than… this.”

Sam watches you for a moment, eyes searching your face until he looks away, nodding his head, relenting.

“Whatever you say. I’m just saying maybe you should give it another go… with the three of us now rotating leadership, things might be different.”

You frown at that, as Nat finishes with the drinks you’d asked her for, and cock your head.

“What do you mean ‘the three of you on rotation’?”

Sam sideyes you.

“Steve stepped down as our sole guy, like, a year ago now. Rhodey, he, and I take turns. We got a week each on rotation.”

You blink at the information, and wonder why Steve had never mentioned it before.

Him stepping down as the Avenger’s go-to leader was… a pretty big deal. Actually, you’re kind of shocked by it. Steve had always been, as long as you’d known him, unable to walk away from a fight. If a situation was going down, he had to be there, at the front taking charge. It was literally the reason you’d broken up. He didn’t know how to take a break, and in his life, you’d always be second, maybe even third priority.

Sm nicks one of the drinks in front of you, and you half-heartedly scold him for it as you attempt to carry the other three back to the pool table, Steve putting his cue to the side and stepping up to help you when he notices.

Sam’s words continue to spin around your brain as you settle back in to watch. It isn’t until Bucky elbows you gently in the side that you realise you were being spoken to, and you blink around.

“We were saying that we forgot to set a prize for the game.” Sam re-explains, and you hum.

“I said maybe you’d give the winner a kiss.” Bucky adds, his face clearly joking, but in that ‘only joking if you are’ way.

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Jesus, what is it? 1955?”

Bucky shrugs and sips at his drink. He’d always been a flirty drunk, not that he was drunk-drunk, but his serum seemed to affect him in slightly different ways to Steve. If he really tried, he could get a pretty decent buzz.

“And besides, I doubt Steve would see that as much of a prize, and last I checked, he was wiping the floor with you chumps.” You wave a hand and Sam cackles. Steve lifts an eyebrow at you, catching your eye.

“Don’t be so sure, sweetheart, a prize is a prize.”

You hardly hear his words, it's his expression that draws you in, makes you forget about the company around you. The air feels hot all of a sudden and you really wished you could drag him off. You shrug.

“Well maybe I’ll give you something else if you win.”

If the others pick up on anything other than friendly banter, they thankfully choose not to mention it, simply laughing and moving back to the game. Steve’s cheeks tint a little pink, but he throws you a wink when he takes his next turn, and you have to laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity.

Steve holds the lead for two rounds, but Bucky, fuelled by Nat’s martinis, makes a comeback, and as the final scores are tallied, he leans in, tapping his cheek expectantly. It’s all in good fun, and you roll your eyes for the hundredth time, but make good in your promise of a prize and instead grip him gently by the chin and plant a quick kiss to his lips. Bucky lifts his drink in achievement, and you playfully shove him away.

“I’m sure Freud would have something to say about that.” Steve says teasingly, plopping down beside you, and you scoff.

“Nobody listens to Freud, and you and Bucky aren’t actually family.” You almost add that you and he aren’t actually dating either, but you stop short. Steve throws you a grin and relents.

“You finish that book yet?” He asks, referring to the Freud book in question that you’d been halfway through the last time he’d been over.

You shake your head.

“No. And I don’t think I will. I can put up with a lot of batshit crazy things, but I draw the line at him.”

Steve laughs, and takes a swig of his beer. A thought occurs to you then, and you turn to face him, squinting.

“Did you lose on purpose?”

“What?”

“The game. Did you lose on purpose?”

Steve blinks sheepishly at you in the same way he did when he was formulating some kind of believable lie, and you roll your eyes, smacking his arm.

“You’re so full of shit!” You laugh, watching him shrug and shift awkwardly.

“I didn’t want you to feel awkward.”

You sideye him with another huff of laughter.

“I mean I offered, in front of our friends, mind you, to give you a blowjob if you won… how awkward did you think I felt?” You watch Steve’s cheeks light up again, and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you this time.

“Was that what you meant?” He asks, as a sort of recovery, but you can see he’s still a little flustered. You chuckle, and lean into him, resting your hand on his upper thigh and squeezing just slightly.

“Maybe next time.” You wink, and watch his expression shift, his eyes flickering down to your lips briefly, and you just know he’s imagining what would be happening right now if you weren’t surrounded by at least ten other people.

Again, you feel the urge to drag him away, but you keep your cool, leaning away from him and removing your hand as Tony and Rhodey make their way over to the couches.

As the night wanes on, Steve’s arm ends up over the back of your seat.

You don’t think about it.

—-

“Are you sure you don’t have anything better to be doing?” You ask, a little exasperatedly.

It wasn’t that you weren’t thankful, but Steve was too good to know when to say ‘no’. Not that you’d even asked him, he’d offered and then showed up at your door bright and early anyway, regardless of your non-committal answer.

He just shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Day off.” He tells you. You squint. You know now thanks to Sam that he wasn’t lying, but it still makes you squirm a little.

“Well, whatever. Don’t come complaining to me about splinters.” You snark, moving ahead to inspect the branches of the next pine tree along.

Steve pouts.

“But you know those tweezers are too small for my fingers…”

“Oh, what a hard life, Steven! You never get sick and are basically invincible… except for those damn pesky tweezers!”

Steve nudges you in the side, as you laugh.

“Don’t let the bad guys know about that.” You side-eye him and he gives you his best puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re the only one who knows my secret.” He says, with over-the-top sincerity.

“I trust you.” He adds a moment later, and you snort.

“Well, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

You continue to sass and snark at each other as you walk down the rows and rows of trees, not even really looking at the pines, until you realise that an hour is probably too long to spend tree-shopping, and pick out the nearest half decent one.

Steve carries it to his car, as he’d offered to do in the first place, and you strap it up tight before getting in.

The conversation flows easy and light on the drive back, and when Steve’s phone rings, you switch instead to staring out the window at all the Christmas lights and decorations the city had put up in preparation.

“Hello? Oh, yes…?” You can only hear Steve’s side of the conversation, not blessed with super-hearing like he was, but you turn your head, intrigued when he seems to falter.

“Today? Well I… in twenty minutes? Oh, um…” He looks over at you, a frown pulling at his brows.

“If you need to stop somewhere…” You whisper, waving a hand to confirm you were okay with the detour, and he shoots you a tight smile, before setting his eyes back on the road.

“I can do that, no problem. Okay. Thank you. Bye.”

“What was that about?” You ask immediately, curious now that you were seemingly being dragged along.

“I had to get a suit altered— for Tony’s christmas party on the weekend…” He begins and you ‘ah’. Tony had declared all attendees go all-out. No jeans were allowed, it was supposed to be a strictly formal event.

“But the owner of the store just realised my appointment clashed with her flight out of the city this afternoon.”

“So we’re going to pick it up?”

“Yeah.”

You hum, and nod, fiddling with the radio now as you drive past the turn off for your place. Steve had promised to help you carry your tree inside, and given the time, it would probably take too long for him to make his appointment if he took you home first. You didn’t mind though.

The tailor he’d chosen wasn’t some fancy, high end retail store, but you never expected it would be. Instead, Steve holds open the door to a small, mom-and-pop type shop, with dark wooden interiors that just screamed old-school class. You enter and promptly take a seat in the showroom as Steve is whisked away to try on his suit for a final inspection.

You’re staring mindlessly at your phone when he steps back in, a little awkward, clearly asking what you think.

“Well, well, well Rogers… So you do clean up nicely after all!” You tease, standing and moving closer as he rolls his eyes at you and faces the mirror. You watch him smooth down the suit jacket, looking a little self-conscious if you’re being honest, but then his eyes find yours again in the mirror.

“You’re going, right?”

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a bit.

“I think Tony would have my head if I made up an excuse… and I kinda like christmas parties… dressing up, mistletoe and all that.” You wave a hand, and Steve turns back around to face you.

“Come with me.” He says, breathily, like he’d been holding the words in for so long he just couldn’t keep them anymore. You freeze, staring up at his hopeful expression, feeling for all the world like your veins had suddenly turned to ice.

“What?” You can’t help but ask, and the blond shifts on his feet, lifting his chin a little more confidently this time.

“Come with me. To the party.”

You aren’t sure how you hear him so clearly when your heart beat thunder loudly in your ears, and suddenly, the walls in the room begin to close in on you. You shake your head with a frown and take a step back from him.

“W-what? No, Steve, I…”

Steve straightens a little, his brow furrowing now and you struggle to speak, panic rising in your chest.

“Steve, we’re— we’re just friends. This isn’t— we aren’t dating!” You stress, still shaking your head, and still stepping away from him. Steve ‘s jaw sets a little and he gets that look on his face like when he had something to say, but he knew it would be incendiary.

“Maybe not, but I don’t think we’ve been just friends for a while now, and you know that.” He says instead, voice tight, and you suck in air sharply.

You knew this was a mistake.

You knew doing anything outside of your agreed-upon interactions was dangerous, and yet, like an idiot, you’d gone there anyway.

“Steve— I am—” You lower your voice somewhat, remembering where you are, and hold out a hand.

“This, what we’re doing now, this is fine. Nobody gets hurt, it’s fun and—”

“—Who's getting hurt exactly?” Steve cuts you off, and you barely refrain from yelling at him.

“Me! I am not going to sit around, waiting for you to find the time to see me! I’m not doing that again. I’m not playing second fiddle to your job!” You explode, immediately pulling back at the flash of grief that lances across Steve’s face.

You look away from him and rub at your temple.

“Every time you’ve called me, I’ve come.” Steve says, voice thick with hurt, and you clench your teeth.

“Every. Time.” He repeats, and you finally bring yourself to look at him.

“I am sorry that the lines got blurred. But I am not—” You stutter a little, choking on your words, but you clear your throat.

“I cannot do this again.”

And you leave.

You run away, because it was less scary than whatever Steve wanted from you. Less scary than opening yourself up and getting hurt like before.

And you were an idiot for it.

You hate yourself for crying when you get home, sans christmas tree now, and a big part of you is glad Steve doesn’t follow you, or try to call. A bigger part of you cries that he doesn’t, and at the fact that despite trying to keep things casual, keep him at arm's length, you’d gone and gotten all tangled up anyway.

It was a mistake.

You knew from the start, but you can’t even revel in your own self pity for too long, because soon enough you’re coming to your goddamn senses.

You were a complete and total bitch.

Steve had hurt you, yes, and maybe springing a date on you like that wasn’t the best way, but even you aren’t dumb enough to not notice his change. He had hurt you, and then he’d changed. He’d taken a step away from leading, to be more present, to be more around, and he was right, he had come every time you’d needed him, for whatever reason. He’d kept your scheduled meetings, even when he was dead tired and really could have called them off.

He’d done everything you could have asked for.

And you hadn’t even asked for it.

—-

Your nerves nearly consume you when you step through the doorway and into the open space of the residential floors. Tony had gone just as nuts with the decorating as you’d imagined. Not a single corner of the room looked like Christmas hadn’t thrown up all over it. Yet, even your love of this time of year couldn’t trump the anxiety that rolls back over you as you look around the room.

You’re actually glad that you can’t spot him right away. It lets you relax, greet other people, ease into the nerves you feel. Besides, if your little meltdown had sent him back into the arms of whatever-her-name-was, you might just be sick.

The jig is up however, when Sam Wilson slings an arm around your shoulder, bright smile betrayed only by the knowing glance he gives you.

“Didn’t think I’d end up seeing you tonight.” he says casually, leading you toward the bar, and you shrug as best you can.

“I’ve got to grovel at some time. Christmas party seemed dramatic and cinematic enough.”

Sam gives you a sympathetic look and squeezes your arm.

“He isn’t upset with you.”

“He should be.” You say, shaking your head and dropping your gaze.

Sam sighs and removes his arm from you so that he can signal the bartender.

“He’s upset with himself.”

You roll your eyes.

“Of course he is. Cause he’s so damned good.” You kick the bar lightly in frustration, and sink a little more into self-hatred. Sam slides a shot of clear liquor toward you.

“Courage.” He says, tipping his own back seconds later, and you relent, plastering on a tight smile before pouring the contents of the glass down your throat.

It burns, and fills your nose with the distinct taste of vodka, and you scrunch up your face, Sam laughing at you when you put your glasses back.

“I’d like less courage next time.” You tell him, and he shrugs.

“I doubt you’ll be saying that in five seconds.” His eyes skip over your shoulder and you frown.

“Wait, why?” A quick glance behind you makes you panic, wide eyes finding a grinning Sam once again, who is already slinking off.

“Sam!”

It’s useless though, he’s gone in seconds, and quickly you become very aware of the man who’d come to stand a small distance away from you at the bar. Biting the bullet, you swallow thickly, and turn to look at him.

Steve looks much like he had the last time you’d seen him, which really only makes your stomach churn more in memory of the way you’d acted.

“Hey…” You greet, worried perhaps he might ignore you, even though you know damn well he could hear you over the crowd. But he doesn’t, eyes swivelling to find your like it was what he’d been waiting for. He gives you a conservative smile and nod.

“Hey.”

The one word alone, filled with so much simple sadness makes the damn break, and before you even realise what you’re doing, you’ve stepped right beside him, hands wringing in front of you.

“Steve, I am so sorry. What I said— I was just— I was a bitch.” You finish lamely, but he only looks down at you, slightly bewildered, as if he really hadn’t expected you to say anything about what had happened.

He turns in to face you, feeding off of your distressed body-language, one hand coming up to touch your arm, and he looks around concerned for a moment before back at you.

“You wanna go somewhere else…?” He asks, and again, you wallow in self-hatred at the way that he so quickly seemed ready to defend your clear anxiety. You swallow, and nod, letting him lead you away from the bar.

He guides you through familiar rooms just as decked out and just as full with people, until you reach a small, quiet staircase, one you know leads up to the private floors.

You’re well aware of how long it had been since you’d last stood in his apartment, and it only spurs your nerves on more. Maybe you should have waited… maybe the christmas party wasn’t the ideal time…

“As far as I’m concerned, you have nothing to apologise for.” Steve says, which only makes you scoff, rounding on him where he stands.

“Steve, you’ve got to be kidding!”

He only shrugs, sad eyes turning down and you sigh.

“Everything I said was… I shouldn’t have said it. You were right. Things haven’t exactly been ‘casual-hookups-no-strings-attached’ for a long time.” You fiddle with the hem of your sleeve and shuffle on your feet.

“I… I like what we had. Just… hanging out. You’re… you’re so easy to be with, and I like that, Steve. I never feel like we’re on different pages, you always get me, you’re great in bed… I— I like being with you, so much…” You pause and take a shaky breath.

“And I know that you’ve been trying. You’ve… frankly, you’ve changed more than I was even asking for back when—” You cut yourself off and shake your head.

“My point is. I’m sorry. I was a bitch because having you in my life in some way is better than not at all, and if things ended the way they did last time, I wouldn’t be able to even look at you— Am I even making any sense?!” You drag a hand over your hair and sigh. Steve moves toward you, slowly, and you force yourself to look at him.

“Yes.” He says, stopping just in front of you.

“I think.” He adds a moment later and you can’t help but laugh. You shake your head.

“I’m sorry.” You say again, and watch him stare at you, before nodding.

“Thank you. I’m sorry too.” He says, though you can’t even imagine what for right now.

“Is it too late to retroactively accept your invitation to the party?” You joke, and his face breaks into a smile, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I think so… Didn’t get to pick you up or anything…”

You click your fingers in an ‘oh shoot’ gesture, and Steve grabs your hand before you can drop it again. You watch as slowly he brings it to his lips, kissing the backs of your fingers.

Your breathing gets shallower at the action, and you wonder if him bringing you here, to his private rooms, was really a good thing after all. You rescind your earlier thoughts. You’re glad you didn’t wait, you’re glad you decided to do this during the Christmas party.

He pulls you closer in a way that feels only natural, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t have to pretend that any of this is real, you don’t need the fantasy.

Steve kisses you long and sweet, his hands firm and secure where he holds you, a silent promise. You think it feels different to how he normally holds you, but you think it’s probably just in your head. You bite at his lower lip, pulling on it just slightly, and his chest rumbles, his hands moving then, squeezing and pawing at you, feet blindly guiding you, moving towards his bedroom.

Clothes are peeled off and set aside, when you try to move atop of him, he only grabs your wrists, trapping you in place against his mattress, and you don’t even care. Steve was here, with you, in his room, and it was real.

He has you face down, pillow raising your hips slightly, his body draped over yours warm and heavy, sweat slicked and firm. Your thighs are only just parted, enough for him to slip inside you, so close, so deep you think you see stars with each thrust. He moves slow, arms caged around your own, hand splayed out against your throat, lifting your head up and back so he can kiss you as he moves, taste each moan he creates as he creates it.

You feel overwhelmed and utterly saturated in him, picked to pieces and pulled apart, his cock sheathed so deep, his weight bearing down on you, you’re drowning in him.

He kisses the back of your neck and shoulders, resting his forehead against you as he picks up his pace, driving faster and deeper, your desperate words of filth and want muffled into the pillow you hold tightly. You think your nails might’ve ripped a hole in the fabric, but you aren’t sure.

You come together, heady cries filling the air before dissipating into heavy, breathy sighs. He doesn’t leave you, stays right there atop of you, still inside you as you both come down. He kisses along your spine again, sweeps some hair out of the way to reach your neck, and that place behind your ear.

“Am I too heavy?” He asks a moment after, voice muffled in the skin of your shoulder, and you laugh, shaking your head, and peering up at him as best you can. He was atop you, sure, but his arms still held most of his weight, never too rough, always just enough.

“No. I like it.” You say, feeling a little shy. All the times you’d slept together, in a relationship, and out of it, this felt real, like all else before was just practice. Steve shifts his hips a little and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Yeah?” He asks, eyelashes fluttering just slightly. You nod.

“I like when you’re here… like this. And you don’t hold back on me.” He lifts his head a little and raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I’ve ever held back on you, when you’ve asked.” He reminds, and you hide your face, laughing into the pillow.

“Well maybe sometimes…” He admits, likely referencing all the times you’d beg him for ‘harder’ and he’d adjust his angle instead, already fucking you as hard as he felt comfortable with.

After a few seconds, he lets up a little to allow you to roll over, though he still hangs over you, chest to chest.

“I never liked leaving after.” He admits, dropping his lips to your cheek.

“I hated going back to my own bed, knowing you wouldn’t be with me in the morning. I don’t think I’ve ever said it but,” He lifts his head again and you stare up at him.

“Waking up with you in the mornings after we’d stayed together, it always felt like a battle to get up and leave. I always thought ‘today I don’t need to run. You can take a break’.”

“But you never did?” You wonder, and see the regret flash over his features.

“I should have. Maybe not all the time, but… I should have.” You purse your lips and try to catch his guilty eyes.

“Steve… I never wanted you to completely overhaul your life. I still don’t want you to do that. That part of you, the part that wants to help people and be there for them, I love that. It’s what fundamentally makes you you.” You push back the hair that hangs on his forehead and sigh, tracing the edges of his face now instead.

“I don’t care if six out of seven days a week you need to get up before me, as long as I have that seventh day…” His face softens from the self-judgement you could see reflected in his features and you smile.

“I just… I don’t know, I want to feel like at least a bit of a priority. I know that’s not always going to be possible, I get that… but…”

“I know. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t.”

“And last-minute cancellations should be the exception not the rule!” You joke, and he hangs his head again, but chuckles against the crook of your neck.

“Understood.”

You lay like that for a while, just relishing in one another's presence, feeling your chest’s rise and fall against each other. When he moves next, it’s because his phone buzzes loudly on the bedside table, and you watch him reach blindly out to grab it.

You play with the hair on his arm as he checks the message, the amused sigh he gives off a second later heavy against your chest.

“It’s Buck,” He tells you.

“Says the fellas are getting ready for a round at the pool table…” He trails off as another message comes through, and this time you see him roll his eyes, and chuck his phone to the side.

“He wants to know if you’re going to kiss the winner again.” Steve’s voice is amused still as he finally crawls off of you, and helps you up. You both know you can’t, and shouldn’t stay locked up here all night.

“Well, I tell you what, Rogers, you don’t go easy on Barnes again, and I’ll give you what I promised last time.”

For a moment Steve just frowns in confusion, but as it slowly dawns on him, a challenging, determined glint fills his eyes.

“Better start keeping score then, sweetheart.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #steve rogers/you #steve rogers/yn #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut

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joonberriess · 1 year

Text

h o m i e h o p p e r

p a i r i n g : JK, HSK, NJ x reader

g e n r e : college au.

t a g s : homie hopping (the title duhhh), bang chan makes an appearance as your bf, he’s being cucked, vaginal sex, blow jobs, cunnilingus, sex tapes, sexual objectification (on reader), dirty talk, degradation, hook-ups, voyeurism, reader is really pretty (she’s a sweetie pls), poly!relationship undertones, chan refuses to even believe the rumors, sexual innuendos and jokes, the boys are assHOLES, low-key toxic, joon and them are fuckin mean, car sex, chan's POV, surprise for u at the end, chan goes thru it a lot, everyone is bad here LMAO

w o r d c o u n t : 6.3 k

s u m m a r y : the rumors weren’t true… or were they?

When Chan first heard the rumors he was absolutely furious, how could anyone ever talk about someone like that? Never mind that, WHY would anyone talk about his girlfriend point blank period. It pissed him off that anyone he talked to always had to bring you up with the same damn question over and over again.

“Oh you’re dating now? I thought she was fucking Jungkook?”

“I heard Namjoon and her hooked up at the party last night, is that true?”

“No way dude, you’re going out with Seok’s girl? He was telling me the other night how he and Joon took turns.”

Sure he knew you got around a lot but he didn’t care that was your business, the more important thing was you were with him now and he was sure you weren’t capable of cheating. How could you? Not when you were the sweetest thing on this earth, you wouldn’t even harm a fly let alone think about being unfaithful. Chan learned to ignore the comments thrown at him, he knew you better than anyone else.

You seemed to be very popular, often attracting attention left and right because of your nice personality and your pretty face. Chan honestly felt like he had lucked out with you, you liked some things he liked, you shared some hobbies, and you listened to a few genres Chan liked. He was stuck in the honeymoon phase and he never wanted to wake up from it.

Chan however did find it a bit weird how..touchy and friendly his housemates seemed to be you. Yes he did know about the rumors of you and his housemates but he kind of didn’t believe them to be true. Maybe they were exaggerating? His housemates didn’t seem to say anything about the situation so maybe people had it all mixed up.. Right?

He starts observing how you interact with them whenever you come over. His eyes are watchful as you greet Hoseok at the door with a sweet smile on your face and a handful of cookies you baked. Chan stares at the seemingly innocent interaction, only getting up to intervene when he sees something odd.

“Hi Seokie,” you softly smile, “I baked some cookies for everyone, Channie told me you guys have been really stressed out from exams ‘n stuff.”

Hoseok grins, “Well aren’t you a sweetheart? Isn’t Chan so lucky to have someone like you? I mean your cookies aren’t the only sweet thing I like to eat.” He shoots a wink and reaches down to grab one, biting into it with a pleased hum.

You reach up to gently wipe the corner of Hoseok’s lips with your thumb, “Thank you sweetheart.” Hoseok slowly licks his lips.

Chan watches in pure silence, a little put off about the strange show of affection he’s seeing. “Okay Seok, me ‘n y/n are gonna head off now, you remember it’s movie night don’t you baby?” He gently pulls you by your waist to his side, wanting you as far away from Hoseok as possible.

“Oh yes! We’re gonna have a Scream marathon!” You excitedly buzz, “Bye Seokie,” you wave and let Chan guide you up the stairs with a possessive hand laid over your back. Chan glances one last time at Hoseok, finding him staring very intently, specifically your ass which sits so perfectly in your leggings. Hoseok actually fucking winks at him as Chan disappears upstairs.

The second time he realizes things aren’t right is the morning after you stay the night, no one is home except for Namjoon. Chan wakes up to a note on his nightstand telling him you’re downstairs making breakfast. The little hearts you drew make his heart flutter as he sleepily smiles and rolls out of bed.

As he makes his way down and around the corner he can hear those cute little giggles of yours. Reality shatters the moment and snaps him out of his daze when he hears Namjoon’s deep baritone voice.

Namjoon…?

Chan curiously peeks into the kitchen only to find you standing there in his oversized shirt he gave you the night before. If memory served him correctly, you went to bed in his shirt and with ONLY panties underneath.. His eyes widened, shocked to see Namjoon standing directly behind you pressed so closely as he opened the cabinet to reach for something high up on the shelf.

“Careful now shortie, don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.” Namjoon lazily smirks, passing the bowls you had asked him for, “Especially with you bouncing all over the place.” He hums, reaching down to smack your ass as he walks over to the fridge.

You voice your complaints with an angry pout, turning to say something when you see Chan. “Channie! You’re up, I made some pancakes and a fruit bowl.” You cheerfully say, “Sit, sit I’m just about to finish,” you say.

“You good there Channie?” Namjoon draws out with a tiny smirk, leaning up against the fridge with his arms crossed. “You look like you just saw a ghost or something.” His eyes briefly break contact to trail after you when you pass by him.

Chan nods, “I’m good,” he shoots you a tiny smile before looking back at Namjoon blankly, “all good.”

Something is definitely wrong by the third time he realizes there’s more than what meets the eye. It’s what people have to say about Jungkook when the little bubble he’s been cooped up in finally bursts. Chan doesn’t wanna hear it but he knows his brain will be nagging about it later on if he doesn’t clear things up once and for all.

“Jungkook? You mean the footballer you live with?” Hyunjin raises a brow in confusion, “Why do you wanna know about him and your girlfriend? Unless you’re like into that sorta stuff man.”

Chan sighs in exasperation, “No I’m not trying to say anything right now, I’m curious that’s all. Jungkook’s never mentioned any girl before and I’m wondering if he and y/n had history together or some shit, that’s all.”

Hyunjin has this look on his face like he doesn’t truly believe it, but lucky for Chan he doesn’t comment about it. “I heard a couple of things. Two semesters ago someone caught Jeon in his car fucking someone, no one was sure who it was but we all had a feeling it had to be y/n because he posted a like selfie with some girl’s hand in the frame and then y/n posted a pic of her inside someone’s car, it looked like JK’s so we all knew it was them two.” He shrugs.

“Ohh really?” Chan nods slowly, now that he thinks about it Jungkook did mention once or twice of a girl he was fucking on the low, said something about her being “the best piece of ass” he’s ever gotten. Thinking about it now makes Chan’s stomach curl in disgust and other unpleasant feelings.

“Yeah, but that was ages ago man you don’t really have anything to worry about now.” With that Chan’s left alone to wallow in his own thoughts.

The girl he’s been with for the past two months really fucked his friends before she landed on him.. He can’t exactly say he’s happy with the idea but if nothing was going on right now, he was fine. The past was past, you were with him now and nothing was going to change that fact.

He hopes.

Chan doesn’t think about it as much as he did before, if anything it’s long forgotten because he rather focus on the present rather than the past. He got over it and made peace with the idea of nothing going on. He blamed it on his damn insecurities.

For about two weeks Chan is in pure bliss with you. Your little dates carry on and surprisingly the comments people made died down. Hell he didn’t notice any weird shit on behalf of his other housemates who seemed to barely be at home whenever Chan brought you over. Seeing this as an opportunity he brings you with him one night, knowing that the guys were out for the night.

Things lead to another and pretty soon you’re both getting down and dirty in his sheets, closed away in the privacy of his bedroom. The perks? You could be as loud as you wanted, and Chan didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing you two go at it through the paper thin walls.

Chan had you laid back on the comforter, thighs wrapped around his midsection and hips a little elevated to strike that spongy spot that drove you crazy all the time. Your head was thrown back on the pillow with your eyes shut in bliss and lips formed in a tiny ‘o’ as moans and whimpers left you.

“C-Chan,” you mewled out, desperately clawing and twisting at the sheets, “so good.” Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering open to stare up at him.

Chan groans under his breath and re-adjusts his grip on your hips, getting a good grip as he plows into your squelching pussy. The sounds of his balls smacking against your ass ring in his ears, the bed creaks audibly against the wooden floor of his bedroom. The sounds were so filthy they were porn worthy.

“Fuck, you gonna cum baby?” He murmurs darkly, face twisting in pleasure as he feels you cunt clench down tightly around his shaft, making his cock throb weakly in response. “Can feel your little pussy gettin’ tighter and tighter for me.”

You moaned lewdly at his words and nod frantically, “Gonna cum–oooh..! R-Right there..!” You writhe on the bed, hips pushing up and squirming around so much you almost slip off his cock.

“Go ahead baby,” Chan moans, “cum on my cock.” He pants heavily, leaning down to smother you in a passionate kiss as his pace speeds up.

You wrap your arms around his neck with a loud moan, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Chan can feel you getting close, and right before he can reach down to rub at your swollen nub he hears the door click open and Jungkook’s loud laughter.

“Chan, you gotta check this shit out–” Jungkook looks up and his eyes widen, “Holy fuck man, my bad.” He laughs harder.

Any pleasure Chan was feeling moments prior is now gone, he feels his cock even soften from the sound of Jungkook entering. He quickly throws a blanket over your naked form, glad he had been too impatient to take his boxers off. “Jungkook–” he sighs, “Can you step out? Not fucking cool,” he shoots a glare at Jungkook, making sure to cover your smaller frame with his own body.

“Sure, Channie,” Jungkook mocks, “whatever you say.” He turns to walk back out, turning his head over his shoulder to shoot you a smirk, “So you wear lace now?” Chan’s face burns with both anger and embarrassment after Jungkook pointed out the panties set lying on his floor nearby the door. “Don’t get ya panties in a twist, I’m goin’.” Jungkook shuts the door behind him.

A long sigh leaves Chan and he turns to look over at you apologetically, “I forgot to lock the door dammit.” He rubs his face in frustration, irritated that he was reminded of the shit he didn’t want to be thinking about.

“It’s okay Channie,” you sit up, sheets around your body as you gently smooch his cheek, “I still enjoyed tonight with you.” You smile softly.

“Yeah… I did too,” Chan smiles back, trying not to look too dejected.

He confronts Jungkook a few days later. He’s sitting in the living room waiting for Jungkook to come home. He had sent a message and Jungkook simply replied that he’d be home in a few.

“You wanted to talk?” Jungkook says, tossing the keys into a bowl by the door as he sets his drink down, “What’s up?” He grunts, kicking his shoes off and going to sit in the living room across from Chan.

Chan notes the faint sweat on Jungkook’s face, shirt rolled up at the sleeves to show off his defined muscles which made the older look more intimidating. “The other night, you need to knock and I mean it Kook because you don’t know if I’m changing or y/n is not decent or anything and I don’t want shit to happen between us because what happened was fucking inappropriate and I didn’t like that shit. At all.” He folds his arms across his chest with a glare.

Jungkook hums, “Okay.”

“Okay? Is that all?” Chan raises a brow.

Jungkook shrugs, “You wanna know something Chan?” He says calmly and sits with his arms spread over the back of the couch, manspreading with a nonchalant attitude. “With a beautiful ass like that I wouldn’t dream of gatekeeping it from the entire world, I mean, it’s always a good feeling to show the others what they wished they had. So congrats on your win, not everyday someone lands a girl like y/n.”

“Jungkook what the fuck are you on?” Chan frowns.

“Nothing, I’m just being honest with you. I could care less if you’re feeling threatened by me or the guys. I see the way it kills you on the inside hearing all the shit they say about your precious y/n. Does that piss you off Channie? Thinking about how she fucked the three of us before she got to you?” He tilts his head to the side with mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Chan doesn’t think he can reply without having an outburst of some sort, he’s getting more pissed by the second. Any more of Jungkook’s crude talking and Chan thinks he’s going to explode from the anger…and he does NOT want to be the one to fight Jungkook, has anyone seen him in the gym?

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” Jungkook smirks, taking a seat next to Chan, “there isn’t nothing about y/n that we haven’t seen already, so the next time you fuck her in the house, remember I once had my dick in there too.” He grins, “Tell her throat I said hi,” he chuckles quietly, getting off of the sofa and disappearing up the stairs.

Chan sits there with a blank stare, fists clenched tightly in his lap as he tries to control his breathing. In, out, in, out. He slumps in his seat, arm thrown over his face as he grumbles. That didn’t go as fucking planned, if anything Jungkook bitched him out without even having to try!

“Fuck,” he sighs longly, he decides he can’t wallow in self pity and rises off the couch.

Right as he steps outside of the house his phone buzzes. Curiously he unlocks his phone and opens the messages (which conveniently was from Jungkook). A thumbnail of a video sits innocently in the chat, Chan’s stomach drops because he knows what this is. His hands shake as he presses on the video.

Jungkook was a really nice guy, he teased you a lot and was a bit cocky but it added to his charms. You meet through a mutual friend, who you feel sorry for because her plans to hook up with Jungkook seemed to fly out the window the moment he lays eyes on you. Jungkook makes it painfully obvious that the only person he was taking home was going to be you.

He fucked you so good you couldn’t even feel your legs afterwards, it was ten out of ten and you could see yourself coming back again. It turned into a little dick appointment situation, meeting up whenever either one of you wanted to fuck. Whether it be in the morning of afternoon or dead in the night it didn’t matter, somehow you guys always ended up fucking.

You felt comfortable enough with him to post about it without exactly letting anyone know it was Jungkook you were fucking. Jungkook did the same, often asking to record and take pictures while he was hitting it from the back or balls deep inside of you.

One night you will never forget is when Jungkook decides to record you in his car, the video itself is about forty minutes long, and that’s what he decided to capture (your fucking went on much longer than that). The first scene is shot with his phone propped up on the dashboard, facing the driver's seat.

You’re sitting in his lap grinding and rocking your hips in tiny circles around his throbbing wet cock. Jungkook had his arms wrapped tightly around your back as he held you close to him while you fucked yourself silly on his cock. Loud whimpers and little “uh’s” escaped your lips. The sound of your wet pussy drooling over his cock and the back of your thighs smacking into him resonated throughout the whole car.

Jungkook had one hand buried in your hair, gripping it tightly as he yanked your head back while you rode him. His eyes flickered past your shoulder and into the camera as he smirked darkly, toying with his lip ring while you frantically moved your hips.

“Mmm..! Ooh, right there,” you pant out in pleasure, eyes stinging from the pleasure and pleasant ache you feel from him yanking on your hair. Your hips slow down and swivel in small circles so you can feel his thick cock rub up against your walls in a delicious angle that has you seeing stars.

Jungkook focuses his attention right back to you and grunts softly, “There you go, good girl.” He uses his other hand to grip your hip as he helps you grind in smooth circles on his cock. “Shit,” he sighs, relaxing into the seat and letting his head roll back on the headrest.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, you hide yourself away in the crook of his neck and desperately roll your hips. Soft little moans and needy whines leave you every so often, the windows of the car have fogged up by now and the music playing from the radio is merely background noise.

Everytime you push your hips back you feel the soaked material of Jungkook’s sweats given that he hadn’t bothered with slipping them past his thighs. You shiver pleasantly when his hot breath hovers over your hardened nipples. He encloses one of the sensitive buds in his mouth, suckling gently and rolling his tongue around.

“Mmm..!” You arch your back even more, desperately chasing after the pleasure erupting in your chest area. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind you pushing your soft tits in his face as he merely buries himself away in your chest while you ride him like your life depends on it.

After getting you to cum a couple of times he moves you two to the backseat. He’s holding his phone above you and recording the way your ass smacks against his hips. There’s a much louder slapping sound since he’s in control of the pace now, he wants you to feel this fucking for days to come.

“Greedy little thing you are, can’t seem to get enough of my cock can you?” Jungkook pants softly while slapping his hips against you, “Not gonna answer? Did I fuck you stupid already baby? Answer me,” he slaps your ass, “go on, tell me how good your ‘Jungkookie’ fucks you.” He grins, his laughter coming out breathless and dazed.

“ ‘s not enough, want it more–deeper, harder.” You gasp out, hands resting above you on the window to keep you grounded while he fucked your brains out, “Can feel it so deep inside,” you breathily moan, eyes slipping shut as his cock bumps into that spongy senstive spot inside of you, “mmmm–there–wanna cum again.” Your lips part, face scrunching cutely in pleasure as your body begins to go slack.

Jungkook softly moans and aims the camera down where you’re both connected. He increases the speed of his thrusts and angles his hips to keep hitting your sweet spot. He feels your pussy tighten and pulse around his cock, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Look up for me baby, say hi to the camera,” Jungkook licks his lips.

You tilt your head up with hooded and dazed eyes, moans tumbling from your lips and a little bit of drool slipping out the corner of your lips. Your breath hitches quietly, pouty lips parting once more as the noises you make increase in pitch. “There you go, show everyone what a slut you are for cock,” he smirks and reaches down with his tattooed hand to grab your chin and face you towards him.

“Oh fuck! Yes, yes..!” Chan sits there in his car with his jaw dropped, watching the now shaky video as Jungkook presumably fucks you into next week with how hard he’s going. Bitter humiliation sits in the pits of his belly.

Over the next few weeks Chan distances himself from everything really. He doesn’t know how he’s going to look at you now knowing the shit that happened with Jungkook. It was one thing to sit and listen to all these people talk about you two but it was a whole different story seeing it on video. Truly crushed his dignity and maybe his ego.

You of course had asked him if anything was wrong but Chan said the same thing, “No babe, just tired and burnt out from school stuff I got going.” And you bought it everytime. He felt bad yes but at the same time he felt like he just needed a little bit of space, he didn’t want to take his anger out on you because you didn’t deserve any of that.

Things back at the house seemed tense, Jungkook looked smug whenever he saw Chan and well, Chan didn’t have the energy to fight over shit like this. One would see it as him accepting that he was a bitch but Chan thought about it differently. Sure he felt extremely disrespected but what else could he do? He can’t reverse time and change the past.

Namjoon hadn’t bothered to comment much (the most he offered was “shit’s childish”) and Hoseok well he kind of tried to play mediator of the situation. He would make some jokes here and there to ease the tension in the room but Jungkook didn’t care. Jungkook was the most relaxed, and it irked Chan to no end how nonchalant he was about this, like if he didn’t show someone a video of him pounding their girlfriend.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok hums, shooting him that bright little smile he always gave everyone. “You’ve been oddly quiet for weeks now Chan.”

Chan looks at the elder with a quiet hum, “Nothing much Seok, just have a lot on my mind right now. And if you’re wondering, no I'm not upset with Jungkook or anything so you can rest easy. There won’t be a fight or anything like that.” He throws his head back and lets it hang off the couch, a long sigh escaping.

“Your face says otherwise.” Hoseok smirks.

“Listen, I don’t mean this in a bad way or anything but I’d appreciate it if you a) stop bringing this up about Jungkook and b) knock whatever weird fucking obsession you have with my girlfriend off. It’s fucking weird that you guys talk about her, make these smart ass comments, and eye fuck her when I’m right there. I get it, you guys fucked in the past but we’re in a relationship and I’d very much like for you to respect it.” He glares back, not realizing his voice rose with every word he spoke.

Hoseok stares at him for a few minutes with no expression on his face, and Chan at first thinks he fucked up but then the unexpected happens. The fucker laughs. He watches Hoseok throw his head back, shoulders shaking as he slaps his knee a couple of times.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Chan grits his teeth.

“Damn ‘Channie’ I thought you were better than this, you should feel happy she chose to be with you. You’re the mannnn,” he playfully hits Chan on the side, “I mean, she tastes as good as she looks.” He licks his lips, staring into Chan’s eyes unapologetically. “Does she still wear those pink panties of hers? You know which ones, little white bow and lacey trim…”

Chan knows exactly which ones he’s referring to. His fists clench in his lap tightly, he silently rages in his spot but it doesn't deter Hoseok. “I bet she still holds your head down right when she’s about to cum,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, “does this little thing with her hips, practically smothering you with her pussy.” Chan snaps his head towards Hoseok, watching as the usually playful man taunts and teases him.

“Oh I bet she does.” He grins, “Funny…she used to do the same with me.” He gets up and walks away with no other words. Chan stares ahead at the wall with a blank look and a fiery anger running through his veins.

Hoseok was buried between your soft thighs, licking and sucking at your swollen clit with his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of your sopping wet pussy. Moans and whimpers tumbled freely from your lips, your head was thrown back with your lips parted and expression twisted into one of pure pleasure and bliss.

His fingers felt so good, stretching and filling your pussy to the brim. He stroked over your g-spot repeatedly, pairing his strokes with powerful sucks on your clit. It only had you dripping even more, thighs shaky and pussy leaking even more for him. “Seok,” you whimper, squirming around and lifting your hips as if you were offering your pussy up on a silver platter.

Hoseok took the bait, happily slurping away with his eyes closed as if he were in pleasure just being there between your soft thighs. Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, the pleasure sat hot in the pits of your belly. Hoseok was hellbent on getting you to gush because he wouldn’t let up on your g-spot.

“Fuck,” he softly pants against your soft pussy, “listen to you, absolutely fuckin’ soaked around my fingers.” He grins licking his lips, “You gonna squirt around my fingers like a good girl?”

His fingers start moving rapidly, the squelching noises get louder and tiny bits of slick spurt out from the sides of his fingers as he fucks them in and out. Your mouth falls open, you’re breathless as you weakly grip the bed sheets tightly. “Seok..!”

“That’s it, cum on my fingers and make a mess for me baby, gonna have you suck ‘em clean for me. ‘s what good girls do, isn’t that right?” He grins.

“Y-Yes..!” You gasp out.

Hoseok goes back down to take your clit in his mouth again, sucking harder than before. It sends a tremor down your spine and you cry out weakly, pussy squirting around his fingers. He moans for extra measure, causing you to weakly moan out for him to stop because it was getting to be too much.

“Good girl,” he pulls back and lifts his wet fingers, “now clean ‘em.”

Chan feels like he could fucking explode any minute now, everyone is walking around on eggshells in the damn house and of course Hoseok and Jungkook will stick together. Chan isn’t so sure about where Namjoon stands in all of this but he’s pretty certain he’ll side with his two friends on this one. Chan doesn’t care anymore, in fact he was already planning on leaving.

Call him a coward but he wasn’t going to waste his breath fighting, hell he wasn’t even sure y/n gave a shit about what was going on. Sometimes it made him feel like there was something he wasn’t seeing. Like this was some sort of test or a sick joke on their end, and as much as he didn’t wanna think about the possibility of you also playing sick games with him it was hard.

He hadn’t had much time to sit and talk with Namjoon given that there was tension in the house but Chan was pretty surprised to see Namjoon at home for once. These days it seemed like he was out more often to avoid the conflicts at home. It was even more surprising when Namjoon spoke to him.

“What’s up with you?” Namjoon nods his head at him, “Feels like we haven’t talked in a hot minute.”

Chan shrugs, “Been busy with work, school, you know how it is.” He replies back, busying himself with going through the fridge for his gatorade.

“You know this shit’s childish,” there it was, leave it to Namjoon to be the one to address the elephant in the room, “whatever the hell you got goin with Kook and Seok is gonna blow over pretty soon. I’m only saying this in case you guys hash it out in the yard and beat eachother up over something stupid.” He shrugs.

“And what would you classify as stupid? How is me calling them out for their weird ass behavior childish. No, you see I’m not stupid enough to fight over it but don’t you fucking think maybe I should speak up about it? It’s my fucking girlfriend we’re talking about, of course you would see me in the wrong because they’re your fucking friends.” He slams the fridge door a little harder then he intended to.

Namjoon raises a brow, “And what you gonna do about it?” He stands, rounding the table like a predator with narrowed eyes and an intense gaze, “Listen, the reality here is your girl fucked everyone in this house, simple as that. She’s been on Jungkook’s dick, Hoseok’s and mine. And if I fucking wanted to I’d have her hanging off my dick right here and right now in front of your face. And you wouldn’t do anything about it because you’re a little bitch who gets cucked in front of your damn face.” He stands in front of Chan now, staring down at him with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

Chan glares back, but Namjoon sets a hand on his shoulder, “Do me a favor and get some air, I can’t guarantee you things will be pretty if you stay. Unless you want me to show you just how well she takes my cock.”

You pull back from his cock with a low pop, tongue swirling and collecting the beads of precum around his tip. Namjoon’s grip tightens in your hair, cock weakly throbbing because the head of his cock was a sensitive area for him. You cheekily dig your tongue into his slit to get a reaction out of him.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps out, hips jumping once more in surprise, “just like that..” He moans.

You take his cock into your mouth once more and start bobbing your head. You use your hands to twist and stroke his shaft. His moans rise in volume as the hand in your hair starts guiding you up and down his cock. Your eyes water occasionally from the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Take it like a good girl baby, gonna cum down your throat.. You gonna swallow like a good girl?” He rasps out. You eagerly nod and reach down to cup his balls, massaging them gently while you try to suck the soul out of him.

Namjoon’s hips stutter in their movements when he gets closer to coming undone. He groans louder and holds your head still to fuck up into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck.” He moans out as he throws his head back. You feel his cock twitch and throb in your mouth and you cheekily moan to cause vibrations.

He comes undone, cum spilling down your throat, “Fuckkkkk,” he whispers out, “so good for me baby..” he strokes over your head and keeps your head down until he’s done coming. “Go on and clean the mess you made, I don’t want to see not one drop go to waste.”

Chan heads straight over to your place. On the way he tries to calm himself down but everytime he thinks about the conversation earlier he ends up heated all over again. “Fuck!” Chan yells in anger as he hits the steering wheel angrily.

“Chan?” Your sweet voice interrupts his thoughts, “I was asking if you wanted me to order some pizza and we can go pick it up?” You rub his back gently, comforting even, “Is everything okay?”

Chan shakes his head with a long sigh, burying his face in his hands as he looks over at you, “Some shit happened earlier but I’m fine now,” he waves you off, “call, call, I’m gonna use the restroom real quick.” He murmurs and gets up.

He felt even more pathetic that he couldn’t talk to you about what he was going through. Then again what could you do? You weren’t even their friends so it wasn’t like you could waltz in there and tell them off or something. You didn’t have a clue what was happening inside the house since Chan wasn’t bringing you around.

Chan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “You got this.” He whispered and freshened up a bit before heading back out to you.

“Channie, I ordered the pizza, it’s gonna be ready in about fifteen minutes or so I think.” You say from inside the kitchen where you’re pouring him a glass of water, “Here sit, sit, you look really tense and stuff.”

“Thanks baby,” He smiles softly, all tension leaving his body since he couldn’t really stay mad around you. “How was your day?”

You shrug cutely, “Nothing too special since I went to class and after I just worked on my paper with Jungkook.”

Chan pauses, “Jungkook?” when you nod he speaks again, “Why?”

“We have the same class.” You reply softly.

Chan grips the cup a bit tighter, “No.. I mean why are you hanging around him? I told you it made me uncomfortable that you hang out with him when I’m not around.” He’s about to pop a fucking vessel with how angry he is.

You look unfazed, “Jungkook and I are friends,” you simply say, “I didn’t realize you were on such bad terms with him or something? Did anything happen for you to not like him?”

“Did anything happen?! Oh I don’t know y/n I’ve been fucking getting ganged up on by him and the guys, they’re all telling me what a hot piece of ass I got as a girlfriend! You think that’s something to get angry over? Are you gonna fucking sit there and tell me not to worry because you’re just friends?” He blows up.

Your lips part in surprise, eyes widening in awe as you listen to him rant angrily. “I tolerated enough when it came to them and you, I get it you all fucked and you fucking liked so what?! What the hell do you want me to do about it? Give you a fucking cookie and say good job?!”

His chest rises up and down in anger as he comes down from the rush. He stares down at you with pleading eyes, he wants you to say something. Anything. He just wants to put everything past him now.. Your lips part and you go to say something when he suddenly hears clapping behind you. “What the.” Chan frowns.

He looks over your shoulder and his heart drops to his ass. Jungkook comes out with a smug little smile on his lips as he takes a seat on the coffee table next to where you’re standing. “What a show you put on,” Jungkook whistles in amusement as he slithers an arm around your legs and tugs you closer to him, “didn’t know it had you bothered like that.”

“y/n what the fuck is going on?” Chan seethes, “Why the fuck is he here? Are you cheating on me with him, is that it?”

You stare at him with those sweet little puppy eyes of yours, pout forming on your lips as you gently reach over to caress Jungkook’s hair, sending Chan into a state of disbelief. “No, I’m not cheating on you. I thought you would have noticed by now, seems like you don’t pay enough attention.”

“Notice what?” He grits his teeth.

Jungkook chuckles, “Why do you think people call her Hoseok’s girl? Or my girl? Or Joon’s?” He sits back with a smug smirk, “I know you noticed how friendly we all were with each other. Listen, Chan buddy, if you ever thought you had y/n you were dead wrong. You see we love our baby, and if she says she wants to fuck you then she’s gonna fuck you simple as that. We’ve always let our girl have her fun because at the end of the day she comes back to us.” He grins.

You hum softly, “It’s fair game Channie, I do what I want but I’m still theirs. Joonie and the boys like to mess around with the guys though.. Surprised you lasted this long.”

It dawns on him this was all a sick game between the four of you. Chan stares in horror and disbelief, “You guys are fucking psychos..” He whispers.

“We’ll see you around… Channie.” Jungkook smirks.

Chan turns to you but you’re more focused on brushing Jungkook’s hair, “Pity Kookie, I actually liked this one.” You murmur softly without offering a single glance at Chan.

Chan fucking hates his life.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @sxtaep ( for u bby )

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bloodynereid · 1 year

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hey i was wondering if you could write a warren rojas x reader fic where the reader is an absolute rockstar and what their relationship would be like since they’re two musicians dating one another while living with the six

i love ur writing

tyyy 💕💕💕

Rhythm of Our Love

pairing: warren rojas/rhodes x fem! reader

a/n: hi! tysm for ur request and hopefully I fulfilled it the best I could. also u didn't specify if you wanted fem or gender neutral reader so i kind of just went with fem if that's okay. also this fic kind of ran away from me so I guess you just get to spend 5.3k words falling more in love with warren (I personally like longer fics). oh and there's a lot of billy bashing in this, which wasn't really intentional but yk it happens. oh and btw i hadn't watched the new episodes yet when i wrote this so this is really just mixed with some book events so book spoilers (!!) - reader is kind of like female pete if that makes sense

tw: drug mentions (mescaline, weed, pills), addiction mentions, billy bashing (don't know if that qualifies as a warning lmao), swearing, cigarette smoking, mentions of cheating (billy and camila - not warren + reader)

description: the rise to fame of a band and the love story between the drummer and bassist that accompanies it.

Y/N (bassist for Daisy Jones & The Six): Is this on? Yeah okay right. So where do you want me to start? The beginning. Geez okay let’s start at the beginning then.

You grew up living next to the Dunne brothers and ended up taking up bass after listening to Queen and The Beatles. John Deacon and Paul McCartney made those songs what they were and you were proud to be able to play something similar to them. So it was only natural that you ended up joining the Dunne brothers after Graham accidentally heard you playing one summer night.

Y/N: God I can remember the first time I played with them so clearly. They had become a pretty established band in Hazelwood but Chuck had quit, wanting to go to dental school or some shit like that, so they were going to give the bass part to Eddie, until Graham found me.

Eddie: Y/N was a lifesaver. I would have to play bass if Graham hadn’t gotten her to join. Plus she was one of the best things that could have happened to the band.

It was a chilly night but you rocked up to your neighbor’s garage wearing a pair of flared jeans and a butterfly top. Your bass slung over your shoulder and a cigarette between your lips.

Warren: Y/N was a total rockstar from the beginning. And the way she carried herself that night, man, she was the most attractive woman I had ever seen.

“So are we ready to get this show on the road? I’ve been working on the sheets that Graham gave me yesterday.” You said as you entered the small room where all the boys were already tuning up and Warren was playing a random rhythm on the drums.

“We’re opening for the Winters in two days. Make sure you aren’t still ‘working’ on those sheets.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You gave him a little salute whilst rolling your eyes which learned a few laughs from the group and a frown from Billy.

“Whatever, let’s just get this going.”

Graham: Billy was an asshole when he first met Y/N. Similar to how he was with Daisy, but he knew we needed her.

Eddie: Y/N handled Billy better than I think anyone ever has. She met his challenges with blunt sarcasm and humor. Anyone who could deal with his bullshit made an instant friend with me.

Warren: I don’t think she knew how hot I found her at that moment.

Y/N: I knew. I mean I had been harboring a little crush on Warren since middle school. I wanted to impress him and I would say I succeeded.

Warren: She had a crush on me in MIDDLE SCHOOL? If I had known that it would have made things a hell of a lot easier.

Y/N: Fast-forward two days, came the night that changed everything. I mean my first gig was the time we opened for the Winters. My fingers were cramping and I had a horrible backache from the amount of practice I had been doing. On a plus side I got to meet Camila. She was just… incredible. God knows that Billy doesn’t deserve that wonderful woman at all.

You were running on a total of 2 hours of sleep. The past two nights had been spent practicing the pieces over and over again by yourself. And then the days were filled with practice with the boys. The band needed this to be perfect and you understood the weight of that completely. You were a rockstar. You were meant for this. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself as you walked into the performing area, staring wide eyed at the space.

Y/N: All I was thinking was: “You better not fuck this up.” That was the night we also met Karen. Karen Karen, my soon to be best friend. She was the keyboardist for The Winters and let’s just say Graham fell in love at first sight.

Right before we were about to go on stage a sudden crushing feeling started to encompass your chest. You were actually going to do this. Oh fuck.

Warren: I could tell she was having a freakout. I mean if it was my first time playing with a new band AND I had only had 2 days to practice I would have been hyperventilating. So I went up to her.

“What’s your favorite fruit?” That silky voice brought you out of your spiral with the most absurd question that had ever been uttered.

“Uh what?”

“What’s your favorite fruit? Mine personally are strawberries.”

“Oh umm I don’t know, I kind of like Y/F/F (your favorite fruit).”

“Cool, you good?” That was when you realized what he had done. You sent Warren a blinding smile and leaned to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Yeah thanks I owe you one.”

Warren: Call me a sap or whatever but I can still feel that kiss. I treasured that for a long time. Anyways, she was incredible that night.

Y/N: There was like this electrifying feeling of being on stage and playing to all those people. I wanted to feel like that forever. Maybe it was also pure exhaustion but I swear it felt like I was on a high.

Billy: She played really well, I mean for a person who had two days of practice.

Y/N: We met Rod Reyes after our set. The man was a douchebag but he planted that LA dream in all of us. I was probably too exhausted to have been making decisions of that kind but…

“If you all will have me, I say fuck it let’s go to LA!”

“Let’s go to LA!”

Y/N: None of us stayed for the Camila and Billy drama, so Warren dropped me off last. We smoked weed for a while. We talked about all that weird philosophical shit that you talk about when high. Then I crashed for a few hours.

It was raining buckets. You pulled up in your dad’s car outside of Warren’s house. You had those weirdly unattached parents who really didn’t give a damn about what you did. They already had their hopes pinned on your older brothers so when you asked if you could move to LA, your parents couldn’t have helped you pack up faster.

“Bye dad.”

“Bye sweetheart. Don’t forget your bass.” He gave you an uncomfortable hug before passing your last suitcase filled with small remnants of your life.

“Hey Mr. L/N. I can take that.”

“Thanks Graham.” He quickly put up your few suitcases on the roof and you waved at your dad as he disappeared into the blankets of rain.

“Ready?”

“Definitely.” Warren helped you into the van and you got situated in a comfortable spot. You lit up one of your cigarettes and opened up the pages of your slightly damp book, waiting for a while until finally everything seemed ready to go. Well not everything.

“Got room for one more?” Camila got into the van and sent you a little smile before cosying up next to Billy.

Y/N: That road trip was one of those things that was both horrible and incredible at the same time. But when we got to LA man wow it was like we were transported and then we met Rod Reyes, again. He was such an asshole but at least we finally had some gigs lined up and a house, but calling it that might actually be a bit generous.

Warren: Graham insisted we kept the haunted room for Karen. And obviously Billy and Camila got a room. Which meant Y/N was either stuck on the couch or rooming with one of us. And… Graham and Eddie already called the bunks.

“This is so fucking unfair! Why does your non-existent girlfriend get a room and I don’t?”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Fuck you Graham. Where the fuck am I meant to sleep then huh?”

“Uh well Eddie and I are sharing the bunks.”

Y/N: It was like a really bad romance movie.

“You have got to be kidding me! Did any of you even think to count the rooms in this house?”

“Guys just shut the fuck up. Y/N you’re going to sleep in Warren’s room and that’s final. You’re all acting like children.”

Y/N: That was also one of the many times that Camila basically acted like our mother, in a good way.

“You know what, fine! I hope you’re happy Graham.” You said as you slammed the door to your new room and unpacked in a furious hurry.

Warren: There was a king sized bed that took up basically the entirety of our room. Honestly it was one of the worst rooms in the house, but at least it wasn’t haunted!

Y/N: Warren wanted to take the floor but if you saw that room you would know that the floor basically consisted of like a slab of wood. The closet and the bed took up the entire space and then there was this huge window. It didn’t even have curtains! Whoever designed that room was an idiot. But we didn’t have the money for anything else.

Warren: I tried to be a gentleman about it but like I would never have been able to sleep on the floor and I wasn’t sleeping outside.

Y/N: Not going to lie after that first night I was kind of grateful to Graham. Don’t tell him I said that though. Anyways we played so many gigs and were getting nowhere. And we were slowly running out of money. Oh and Karen did end up joining the band and she got the room.

You were all seated in some random diner with Camila counting out all the money you had gotten from gigs and your little part-time job working at a movie theater. On your side of the table sat Karen, Warren, you and then Eddie.

“Why are we still called the Dunne brothers, anyway?” That ended up sparking up a rather loud discussion of our side of the table against Billy. You rolled your eyes and leaned your head on Warren’s shoulder. You could see his stupid smile as he looked down at you so you just poked him in the ribs and he laughed.

“I for one am for changing the name.” You said as you took a drag of your cigarette, adding to the already thick cloud of smoke that surrounded the band.

“You see, Billy, basically the entire band is against you on this one.”

“No, no. The band name is what gives us credibility if we change it then all of our reputation goes out of the window.”

“Oh our Pittsburgh reputation really? Or maybe the reputation of not being able to get good gigs.” You barked back at the already angry man which made Eddie send you a grateful smile.

Then came the barrage of horrible name ideas, including one from Warren that made you look up at him from his shoulder in confusion and slight disgust.

“Look okay, the seven of us will never agree on the name.” That’s when it came to you.

“What about The Six?”

“Huh?” Everyone turned to you as you sat up and took a sip of Warren’s coffee.

“I mean no offense Camila but you aren’t technically part of the band so there’s six of us. We can be called The Six. The Five is used too much and The Seven sounds like way too many members so how about The Six?”

“You know what, I like it.”

“Me too.”

Y/N: So we had a shiny new band name, my relationship with Warren had gone from band mates to really good friends. And no I don’t mean that in an innuendo way but you get really close to someone you have to share a bed with every night. We had some good nights.

Warren: I always thought that Y/N would end up moving in with Karen after she joined but she didn’t. I think she knew that that room was haunted.

“So who do you think the most attractive person in the band is?” You and Warren were lying on the bed in a drug addled haze after taking some mushrooms he had gotten from one of his hippie friends.

“Huh?” You sluggishly turned to look at his face, finding that his eyes were already on you.

“Who do you think is the most attractive in the band?”

“Hmm I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean Graham and Billy aren’t my type. Eddie is hopelessly in love with Camila-”

“Wait what?”

“Dude are you blind?”

“No? I mean I know Graham likes Karen but she doesn’t like him.”

“That is like the most obvious observation I have ever heard.”

“Hey! So that just leaves… Camila, Karen and me. Wait, is Camila the person who you find most attractive? I’m not judging if she is.”

“I can’t lie she’s really pretty and Karen is absolutely stunning but no not the person I find most attractive.”

“Me?”

“Yes dumbass. Now it’s your turn to answer the question.”

“Oh that’s easy, you obviously.” You smiled bashfully at him as his mischievous smirk grew.

“You are too charming for your own good.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” That was when you both fell silent. Maybe it was the confidence the drugs gave you but you quickly gave him a kiss before backing away.

“You like me back?”

“Obviously you dumbass, I've liked you for ages. Why do you think I’ve been cuddling with you for the past few months? I don’t do that with every single person I know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

Y/N: As I said, a really cheesy romance movie. But I found Warren and we fit like puzzle pieces.

Warren: We were high on shrooms when she kissed me. We didn’t do much else that night, other than kissing and then sleeping.

Y/N: I may have loved Warren but we weren’t sleeping together until I knew he was serious. I had seen him with the small amount of groupies that we had. I’m not a jealous woman but that right there boiled my very core.

Warren: I stopped hanging out with the groupies after that night. Y/N became the light of my life, I wasn’t going to ruin the only good thing going for me that wasn’t the band.

Y/N: Then Billy convinced Teddy Price to listen to one of our songs. I have no idea how he did it. The next few months after that song were the most anxiety I had ever experienced but they were also the happiest. I was doing what I loved and I was doing it with the person I loved. Then we got to record the album.

Karen: Y/N and Warren went official a few weeks before we got the album deal. They were the most obnoxiously cute couple I had ever been around. And they complemented each other incredibly well.

Graham: Honestly I take it as full credit to my genius that those two first got together.

Camila: Oh Y/N and Warren… god they were one of those strangely healthy couples. They were living the life, they had each other, the band and the drugs. They were insanely happy together.

Y/N: We were going to go on tour! That was huge for us and for me. A few days before we went though, Camila told us she was pregnant. They got married that night.

Warren: The wedding? Oh I don’t remember it that much. Mescaline… well it’s a powerful drug.

Y/N: Did Warren tell you we were on mescaline the entire night? Yeah. God, I wish I had been more present in that moment but we truly were having the time of our lives. Camila being pregnant also put things into perspective for us. Protection wasn’t a big thing in the 70s but I had been taking birth control after I read a few books. I wasn’t taking any chances.

Warren: Yeah we had a deep discussion about that. I think that was one of the many times where I realized how shit it was to be a woman of that time. I supported whatever she wanted to do fully.

Y/N: We went on tour. It was fine. Billy was an asshole but he went off the rails. I mean Warren and I were a bit out of control cause you know… fame. But Billy, he went hard on all the drugs and the groupies.

Warren: We were there to have a good time but I also recognized something in Billy that I never wanted to be. I stayed away from the hard drugs and sure we hung out with groupies but I would never betray Y/N like that.

Y/N: Then Camila arrived, heavily pregnant and she found Billy getting it on with some groupie. Fuck, I really tried to call her but you never want to hurt someone like that you know. Fast forward a few shows and well we found out Camila had given birth. Teddy put Billy in a rehab center. We cut the tour short and that fucked it up with the label. I think it also made me realize how incredibly lucky I was to have found Warren.

Warren: The next few months the band was idle. Y/N and I did a ton of mushrooms and we helped babysit Julia. It was actually really nice and domestic.

Y/N: I was bored out of my mind. I wasn’t suited for an idle lifestyle. When Billy decided to stop being an idiot and rejoined the band, things finally started to look up. And then we all met Daisy Jones.

“Why can’t we just have Karen or Y/N sing this stuff? If you want an edge we have that already.”

“Oh no way, Billy. I don’t sing, I’ll help with backing but that’s it.” You said as you stamped out your cigarette on the tray.

“I’m with Y/N. Plus I agree with Teddy, it will give us a new sound.” Billy stormed out of the room at that leaving you and the rest of the band to chuckle at his dramatics.

Y/N: We were all enraptured with her when she first walked into the studio. She was wearing a button down shirt and no pants. That made one hell of an entrance. And of course, Billy wasn’t pleased.

“Hi nice to meet you Daisy. I’m Y/N.” You said as she walked into the recording studio while Warren’s arm was secured around your shoulders.

“You too. Thank you all for having me.”

“You’re welcome.” Graham answered.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” You and the rest of the band left the room and went into the production booth.

Y/N: She was incredible. Even if she did try to change up Billy’s song. Personally I always liked her version. After that recording session it all kind of blew up. Billy wanted to keep the song as it was and obviously he did that until Daisy showed up to one of our shows at The Whisky. We then headed out to our world tour, The Numbers tour as it was dubbed featuring Daisy Jones.

Warren: We were making money, a ton of money at that. Sold out shows everywhere we went.

Y/N: I’m pretty sure that was the tour that Karen and Graham started hooking up. Warren didn’t believe me, he had his own theories. Like he thought Bones, our lighting guy… *cue you breaking out into laughter*, sorry sorry, but geez yeah Warren was honestly the most clueless guy I had ever met and I loved him for it. Then came the show for Rolling Stone, that was an incredible show but Eddie… that man had basically become my brother at that point. What Billy did was one of the worst things he could have ever done to him.

Eddie: I couldn’t take it anymore so I had to do something.

Y/N: I understood why he smashed that guitar. I would have done the same thing. But my bass was also something I had basically built all by myself. I wasn’t going to hurt my baby.

After all of the drama, you quickly made your way over to Eddie before Jonah Berg came down. A cup of water in hand and a cigarette dangling from your lips.

“Ed?” You walked up next to your best friend and gave him a little shoulder nudge.

“Oh hey Y/N.” His voice sounded thick with underlying rage. One that you recognized all too well.

“I’m really fucking sorry.” And you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

Y/N: When you spend a long time around someone you kind of learn their tells. Warren and I were incredibly good at reading each other. And I was just incredibly similar to Eddie, so I knew how to help him… we both have really horrible tempers. Warren and the drugs had been helping but Eddie didn’t have a Warren.

Eddie: What Y/N did after that show… she knew I didn’t want to talk about it. She became my sister at that moment.

Y/N: I think Warren and I should have probably stopped Daisy. But we were sort of mooching off her stash. We promised each other to not go on the hard stuff but I think I was getting addicted.

Warren: Drugs were a normal thing in the 70s and we were having fun! But yeah I was feeling like I was starting to depend on pills.

Y/N: I was getting sloppy with my playing so I knew I needed to start weaning myself off it. We didn’t know much about addiction back then so it was hard to stop but we did the best we could. Well for one thing we didn’t go cold turkey.

Warren: When she told me, I understood her completely, I was feeling the effects of it too. We kind of talked through it a bunch and decided we should probably lay off the heavier psychedelics. Being rockstars meant you were down to have fun but if she wasn’t happy then I was going to try and remedy that.

Eddie: I think after the whole Glasgow thing I saw Y/N become more level headed. The same with Warren. I think they made some decision to get like moderately clean. They were still smoking pot and stuff but stopped with the pills and harder stuff.

Karen: I swear I thought they were either trying to get pregnant or Y/N already was. The fact that after that Rolling Stone interview they suddenly stopped taking anything stronger than weed is probably what made me suspicious.

Y/N: I ended up sitting next to Eddie for most of the flight back, leaving Warren to sleep. I think we were the only two band members that weren’t consulted about Daisy, but I honestly didn’t give a damn. It was nice to have another girl around and… I was probably feeling the withdrawal.

Warren: When we got back to LA, I bought a one-bedroom Gibson.

Y/N: Warren bought a boat and I bought a little house which has a boat dock, it was kind of like a perfect compromise.

Warren: I kept my boat mostly at Y/N’s house but we occasionally went on little trips. Mostly we drank beers on it and spent nights at the house. Y/N took up sports for some reason but I wasn’t going to complain, she looked hot.

Y/N: Yeah, I took up surfing, boxing and got into soccer. I was still practicing bass daily but without the band getting together much that summer, Warren and I kind of just did whatever. We smoked a lot of weed too. We were moderately clean and we were happy but I think deep down we missed life on the road.

Warren: Neither of us were ones for settling down. That’s probably why Y/N got into sports and I bought that boat. Oh and Eddie was around a lot. At first I thought he was trying to get into Y/N’s pants or something but they have this weird bond that reminded me of how my sisters and I acted.

Eddie: I visited Y/N and Warren A LOT. I don’t think they minded me being there, I basically took up permanent residence in Y/N’s spare bedroom. Y/N and I actually wrote a lot of songs during those days and we both got into surfing. And the LA surf scene was something else but I was itching for the road and they were too. So when the call came in from Graham we were all ready to leave.

Y/N: We got together in The Rainbow and that’s where everyone just started to talk about everything and what parts they wanted to play. I mean I was already writing my bass lines so I was fine in that department. Warren and I mostly stayed out of the conversation, just smoking and making little jokes.

Graham: I think this was one of the only times that Y/N was completely silent around Billy. I mean Warren and her had always been pretty independent but they seemed like they were in their own little world. Well that was at least until Eddie stepped in.

“Look I don’t want us to turn into some kind of pop group dynamic.”

“You know what I agree with Eddie.”

“Oh so you’re finally going to talk.”

“What the hell?! I didn’t have anything to contribute and was making it easier for you and now you’re getting mad at me for actually pitching in?”

Billy: Y/N and Eddie hated me. I don’t know what I ever did to them but they got on my nerves constantly.

Daisy: Y/N was a spitfire. Eddie and her kind of had this team dynamic that was based on ganging up on Billy. Not that he didn’t deserve it but there was always underlying tension.

Y/N: I never hated Billy. He just wasn’t someone I particularly liked. He thought the world revolved around him and he loved trying to be the boss. He never once listened to my ideas, even if I had been there from basically the beginning. Eddie and I were just getting fed up.

“Okay, everyone just calm down. Billy, Eddie does have a point.” Teddy Price was always the peacemaker in these things. You scoffed and leaned in closer to Warren who had taken to rubbing circles on your arm to calm you.

Y/N: We walked out of there with a new name: Daisy Jones & The Six. I guess you can call that the beginning of the end. While Daisy and Billy went off to compose, the rest of us worked on Aurora together. By the time we were going to play it for Billy I think it sounded pretty incredible but… he hated it. You could see the revulsion on his face but Teddy convinced him to keep it. Oh but Daisy loved it! I knew I liked her for a reason.

Warren: Daisy got on really well with Y/N and I during the entire time we made Aurora. We had that easy way of suggesting things for each other and giving feedback that we all followed.

Daisy: I wish I had a relationship like those two. They respected the other person in a way I had never seen before and they were so hopelessly in love with each other. I knew it was only a short time before they would get married. I was honestly jealous of what they had.

Y/N: I never went to one of Daisy’s infamous parties. Not because I didn’t want to but because I was happier. Which sounds really fucked up cause everyone else wasn’t doing that great around that time. I think the fact that I stopped taking drugs helped A LOT. Warren and I were enjoying life so you know we obviously took the next step. We got married.

Warren: We didn’t tell anyone we were getting married. And no one really knew until the band broke up.

Y/N: We got married in a little chapel on this hill near Long Beach. I refused to do a Vegas wedding even if we were eloping.

Warren: She was insanely beautiful that day. We both showed up in pretty casual wedding clothes.

Y/N: I was wearing a long sleeve all-white prairie dress that I had bought the day we decided to do it. It wasn’t my style at all.

Warren: We spent our honeymoon at our little house. And we didn’t answer the phone for like a solid four days. Good times.

Y/N: The band was freaking out by the time we came back to rehearsals on thursday. They thought we died or something.

Eddie: We thought they went on some kind of bender or disappeared into the horizon with Warren’s boat but no they arrived on thursday with these huge smiles and a new car.

Y/N: We extended the honeymoon after the band broke up. We went to Hawaii with Warren’s boat. I don’t think that was safe but we did it anyway.

Warren: Oh, the car. Did Eddie mention that? Yeah we put some of our money together and bought an Aston Martin. You know the James Bond car.

Y/N: We had some money left over from royalties and stuff so when we pooled it we had just enough to buy that car and start putting some more of it into retirement.

Warren: We still have that car. And we still live in that same house. And Y/N hasn’t made me sell the boat yet so we’re doing pretty good.

Interviewer: So how did the band react to you two getting married?

Y/N: Well, I told Eddie first. He obviously reacted as expected.

Eddie: I was happy for her but mad that she didn’t let me be at the wedding. Y/N made up for it though when she allowed me to officiate their vow renewal.

Graham: I found out a few weeks after the band broke up. I was obviously not doing well after all the Karen drama. But I went up to their house to see them and when I walked inside I saw the rings on their fingers and the rest is history. I got to be Warren’s best man at the vow renewal, I mean it was my entire genius that got them dating in the first place, it was the least they could do.

Karen: I knew when I met up with Y/N and Camila for drinks. She showed us the ring and honestly we were both very shocked.

Camila: I didn’t think she would go through with it but wow I couldn’t imagine a better match. When she asked us to be maids of honor for her wedding, I obviously accepted.

Daisy: I didn’t go to the vow renewal. Being around Billy was going to be a trigger and I knew that. But I still meet up with them a lot. Their kids love being around mine.

Billy: Yeah I was happy for them, sure. Camila told me after they went out for dinner I think.

Y/N and Warren Rojas live in that small house on the coast of LA with their three kids, Lily, Vivienne (Viv for short) and Javier. Y/N went on to be the bassist for many well-known artists like Kate Bush, Billy Idol and even worked with members of the Beatles. They are currently celebrating their 20 year anniversary, which was marked by a vow renewal a few months ago.

this is very much self indulgent - i will be writing a bunch of angst next so prepare yourselves.

taglist: @pinkdaiisies @yesshewrites1 @lisbeth122605

1K notes · View notes

atiny-moon · 8 months

Text

ATEEZ as Boyfriends

Genre: soft, fluffy, suggestive

Pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

Tags: a little bit of everything <3

Word Count: 1.6K

HONGJOONG

Definitely the type of bf to fix your clothes - like if you’re going out somewhere, i can see him helping you pick out smth to wear or even styling you himself. And when you two are out, he’s constantly adjusting your fit so you don’t look bad. The type of guy wander off in the middle of a party just so he can admire you from afar

Though he isn’t too fond of being overly emotional, will hype you up to anyone who would listen and not even in an annoying way, it just so happens that the majority of his sentences start off with ‘oh, my partner..’

Loves leaving marks - biting, hickies, etc. in places only he knows about

Will call you every time he’s eating, even if he doesn’t say anything, just bc he missed you and wanted to have you around for a little bit

Doesn’t like to cuddle but does give the best kisses the kind where he just holds your chin in place and plays with the ways his lips touch yours

Ultimate king of push and pull

SEONGHWA

Ugh, the way this man would absolutely dote on his partner. Anything they wanted - he’d be all over it. Think acts of service type of love

Loves all the cheesy romantic shit, all of it - the matching accessories, matching hairstyles, coordinating outfits, taking an insane amount of cute couple photos, going to the most aesthetic date spots just so y’all can take photos together. Knows your best angles, duh

So many gifts. And expensive gifts, too! Hwa’s got super expensive taste and i feel like he’s the type of bf to dote on you so much that he wouldn’t want you to wear inexpensive clothing. Like he’ll be like, ‘oh, babe, i got you these new silk pajamas because you said mine were so comfy’ meanwhile he’s already replaced like all of your clothes

Super comfy stay-at-home dates where you do skincare and watch the latest episode of whichever drama you’re watching. Even when he’s hella busy, he’d find time to video call you so you could watch the newest episode together.

Always smells incredibly good, addictive even

Forehead kisses & top of the head kisses are his favorite

YUNHO

Textbook romantic gentleman. The type that makes sure you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, opens every door for you, never ever lets you lift a finger, and will always give you his jacket if you’re cold

Super sentimental. Like if you put together a scrapbook of all of your time together, guaranteed this man will cry. Especially if there’s a handwritten letter explaining how much you love him - he would simply be undone

Tries to remember every single detail about you so he can either plan the perfect date or gift you the perfect item. Truly works soo hard at being a good boyfriend. Also really good with birthdays. Like, scary good.

And tbh, the type of bf to call you out on your bs - like when you’re being a little unreasonable or if you’re telling him about a situation that you’re going through, i think yunho would be the type of bf to tell you when you’re wrong but in a nice way! (maybe.. he can be kinda savage sometimes lmao)

While I don’t think he’d be super into PDA i do think he’d just always be near you like close enough to reach out and hold his hand or close enough that you two would be able to talk without raising your voices

This man loves back hugs

YEOSANG

The best at good morning and goodnight texts. They somehow always make you feel loved and special

Super supportive? The type of bf to set reminders in his phone so he can wish you good luck on whatever upcoming project you’re working on. Even if it’s like the smallest thing ever, he’d be so proud of you for working toward it and even more proud when you achieve it

Really deep and interesting conversations

I think it would be so easy to be with Yeosang - like the both of you wake up together, get hungry at the same time, get sleepy at the same time, etc

It’s not that he’s not into PDA, he just forgets about it like of course he loves holding your hand, but he got distracted thinking about what he wanted to get for lunch

Laying his head on your lap is his preferred way to fall asleep

SAN

Loooooooves physical affection. Cannot get enough of it. I think his ideal would be being able to glue himself to you so two could just walk around permanently attached to each other. also I feel like San runs really fricken hot - like a cute lil heater

The ultimate hype man. It could be a pre-workout selfie, a just finished taking a shower selfie, an all dressed up selfie, a sleepytime selfie, a i just woke up selfie, IT DONT MATTER!! San is going to hype you up every single time. Which obviously does wonders for your confidence (which was his plan all along ;) )

Loves to stay in and just watch movies. Mostly so he can spend as much time as he can cuddling with you. Matter of fact, most of the dates he plans are just excuses to spend more time with you - physically and emotionally

Speaking of, San would be such a good listener! Like I feel he’d understand where you’re coming from emotionally and provide support in a positive and affirming way and never ever make you feel like your emotions are wrong or you were wrong, for that matter truly wants the best for you

And bc he loves you so much, I feel like he would also respect you a whole heck of a lot which means the first time you guys wanna do anything sexual, it takes him a loooong time to be okay with it. Like i think you would have to initiate

That said, he would absolutely blow your back out every chance he got once he got comfortable

MINGI

Loyal af. Once he makes a decision on who he likes, it’s that person FOR EVA so get used to the idea of having song mingi in your life

The wildest communicator - like, y’all abandoned texting very early on in the relationship and now exclusively communicate via selfies/photos, voice memos & memes. His voice memos are hilarious and sometimes incredibly lewd. Like will sing you an entire song that he just made up. In voice memos. Then follow it up with what he wants to do to you in excruciatingly graphic details.

While he won’t do completely matching outfits, he is super down to coordinate outfits - wear the same colors, or complementary silhouettes, something that lets ppl know you two are an ~item~

And though I think he likes being Princess Mingi, i think he would go to great lengths to make sure you’re taken care of - whatever you need, he’d get it for you.. Or get someone else to get it for you lolol

Will always pull you into his lap. He likes how easy/fun it is to manhandle you.

Loves PDA. I’m talkin full on make-out sessions, ass grabbing, hand holding, and everything in-between. good luck getting him off you!

WOOYOUNG

Likes biting. A lot. Especially the marks it leaves

Super generous. Like, the most giving man you have ever met. Will give you the shirt off his back even if you don’t ask for it. This also extends to anyone you know, especially! family. He likes knowing he’s the one taking care of you && yours

This man is crazy into fashion and i think his style would end up affecting your style, not bc he wants to but bc he just looks so cool all the time, you’d wanna match him, if you know what i mean. Definitely gives me gomez & morticia addams vibes.

Learns your favorite dishes and cooks them for you.

I think Wooyo’d be the type of bf to be a little controlling or ride the line of being a little mean just so he can rile you up. It turns him on when you get angry. But would also definitely cut it out if he saw you weren’t having it.. He wants to fuck you, not make you mad!

Can and will makeout with you for hours

JONGHO

Would have such a hard time telling you how he feels, but has no problem showing you how he feels - whether it’s buying you a little trinket, or making sure you ate, or even just listening to you, i think you would always feel loved when you’re with Jongho

Is actually really funny? Or maybe he’s just good at learning what makes you laugh and then gets good at telling you jokes that align more with your humor

Your family would absolutely adore Jongho

Wants to experience new things with you so all of your dates are either trying out a new restaurant, or visiting a new pop-up event, or going to a new city for the weekend, anything that helps creates memories with you

Hella anti-PDA. Will actively avoid holding your hand in public. But as soon as you are behind closed doors, will be the sweetest and most loving bf - being silly/cute, soft sweet kisses, plenty of hugs (which he’s surprisingly really good at), and sooo many massages

Jongho would give the best aftercare

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 5 months

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ASTROLOGY QUESTIONS

Hey! A quick engagement post for you all. I've been wanting to have wide discussions on these topics lately and wanted anyone who felt called to answer to express their feelings on any of the questions i have below! Please dont feel the need to hesitate, its all fun and just exploring each others minds lol.

Neptune 12th housers - Do you ever feel silenced in your voice? Like the words you speak, the dreams you carry, people dont bother to listen? They just feel like its noise and dont participate in exploring who you are as an individual. It just feels lonesome.

Venus in the 1st - Do people have high standards and expectations on you? Especially on what you should be like in their own minds view? Ever had to deal with petty arguments that came from out of the blue, just to find out its cause they were secretly envious or had a crush on you?

Mars/Pluto Conjunction - Feel rageful often? How do you use this energy to bring attention to your emotions? Do you have a special outlet for this rage you carry?

Lilith in the 1st - Tired of people looking at you strange? Do you ever feel that you're 'odd looking'? Have others made you feel gross in your own skin? How often do you go to lakes and forests to clear your head?

Moon in Cancer in the 4th - Do you feel alluded or subjected to family issues more often than you should? Does family ever come around and make you feel lonesome, tiresome, and exhausting? like i mean all that you do for them is lovely, they just find it overbearing?

Moon in Taurus - Ever feel like your wants and desires are but a dream? People close the door on you when you express yourself, and only ever do they listen when your mad, bored, or tired? They only feel wanted when your not yourself, is that right?

Scorpio Venus - Is your love life boring? Like.. i got ask this lol. or was it boring BEFORE? At some point did you ever just do something so taboo and adventurous , it almost cost you your life? your past life.

did you get up one day and just figured you make the most of it? so it doesn't matter how much you express your 'lovin' (wink ;) lmao) to others as long as you got it out...?

Mercury in Aries - Does your blunt mouth get you in trouble? Do you ever just go off the dome and speak your ideas, feelings, and desires out loud it makes others think your crazy? Do people ever feel like telling you to have more 'tact' or grace in your speech? How often do you tell someone to fuck off? serious question.

Last one!!

Sun in Gemini - How many masks do you honestly keep up with? Do you ever show your true self to people? And i dont mean just one version just the whole spectrum of being a complex human.

How many secrets have you gotten out of others just by sitting quiet and observing? The spoken and unspoken ones i mean. People dont believe me when i say this, but i always say geminis are just scorpios who are very talkative lol.

None of these were to be shady, btw. I just wanted to converse and have fun with the topics lol.

Let me know in your replies babes!!!!

#astrology questions #astro asks #astro fun #astrology humor #astrology discussions #astrology observations #neptune 12th house #venus in the 1st #mercury in aries #sun in gemini #scorpio venus #moon in taurus #moon in the 4th #moon in cancer #lilith in the 1st house

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imisscherryboy-blog · 7 months

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running back 2 u

enemies to lovers — football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 2 part 3

spotify playlist ★

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven’t been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, use of american education system, reader is in a sports medicine class (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically students that help out at school games, usually water girls/boys/people, assist with injuries) i wrote this with the pov of the reader being a POC but if you’re not just disregard when i say white and stuff lmao + part 1/?, title is an nct reference, debating eventual smut, kaveh and alhaitham are gay

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh)

warnings: swearing, vivid depiction/description of injury

★ part 1 of an ongoing series ★

you hated ajax and ajax hated you. that much was safe to say. ever since that incident in 9th grade, you never talked to him, let alone acknowledged him. before that, you both had known each other since elementary school. everybody loved ajax, his teachers, his peers, and even you. he just had that personality that made everyone love him; but you knew him underneath that persona. you knew his flaws and he knew yours. he’d tell you things he’d never tell anyone, he trusted you. but, all good things come to an end. in the summer going into your first year at highschool, you found yourself never wanting to speak to him again. he ultimately became the person you two would make fun of together in prior years. a typical, white, football player. but damn was he a good running back. he used to be so charming, but now he was just a playboy that had a new girl in his bed every week. you hated him for it, you hated the person he became, but you mostly hated how he’d plague your mind like a disease.

the day of the game finally came. you and kaveh both wore your school’s varsity jackets and jeans. you guys trudged the god foresaken orange gatorade cooler out to the field for the junior varsity and freshman team. the jv game had just finished, and you began setting up for the varsity game.

“y/n, i can tell you’re scared about ajax.”

“wow kaveh, you’re sooo observant.” you said sarcastically as you both were now in the utility room, filling the water bottles for the players.

“listen, you probably won’t even have to talk to him. as much as he likes to talk behind your back, he’s scared of you. you literally know EVERYTHING about him, you could ruin his reputation in milliseconds.” kaveh had a point. you knew his deepest and darkest secrets, but he unfortunately knew yours as well. you screwed the last lid of the water bottle on tighter than usual as you responded.

“thanks kaveh, but promise me you’ll be the one giving him his water, not me.” kaveh laughed as you said this.

“i’d actually be more than happy too! he’s pretty fine anyways…”

“kaveh— please.” you sighed as kaveh only laughed louder. you walked out to the field, the sky a pretty hue of pink as the jv players left and students filed in the bleachers for the real game. you made your way to the bench, right next to the field and placed the water bottle trays down, as cheering filled the stadium, you both looked behind you.

“ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our undefeated, five-time league winners, the varsity football team!” the announcer said as the cheers only got louder. the varsity boys ran onto the field, ajax leading the team. you rolled your eyes. you’d admit, he looked good in the navy blue and white jersey, adorning the number 11. ajax was the captain and star of the team, his stats practically outdid any other running back in the county. he ranked first for almost every category, he was a good running back, you’d give him that at least. but at that moment, a feeling came over you. you felt jealous. jealous of the new cheerleader girl he was seeing, jealous of his success, you irrevocably hated him.

“god alhaitham looks good.” kaveh said, very much distracted when they began to sing the national anthem.

“you’re shameless, kaveh.”

“well, the national anthem definitely did not include gay people so…”

the game began, and the annoying and repetitive chants from the cheerleaders almost got stuck in your head. they even had a special one for their glorious star boy tartaglia! you could give zero fucks about him and his stupid chant, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring you down as the rival team took a time out. he gulped his water, sweat dripping from his slicked-back hair, before returning back to the field. as promised, it was kaveh’s job to offer him water, not yours. when one team scored, the other followed suit, the game was neck and neck. watching ajax skillfully receive alhaitham’s (the quarterback) throws and run it was something you could watch all day. but you hated him, so you pretended to look busy every time the home team ran a point. it was halftime now, and you and kaveh hung around the bench. they were up by only two points, it was practically anyone’s game, but that’s what makes the epic highs and lows of highschool football, right?

“swear to god, ajax keeps looking at you.” kaveh whispered to you as you refilled the green water bottles. the boys went into the team room as you and kaveh stayed outside. ajax’s fan girls in the stands had finally calmed down. you just looked at him and looked away as you continued to fill up the water. “like, every time he scores a touch down, he’ll do his stupid little celebration and he’ll glance over here—and then i’d look at you, and of course—‘oh, she’s trying to look distracted and pretend to not care again!’.” kaveh rolled his eyes at you, looking at you for an answer. “you still care about him, don’t you?” this time, you didn’t look at him and just stared at the bottle.

“yeah, like i’d give two shits about the school fuck boy. it’s just, i can’t help but remember how he used to be, that’s all.” it was a blatant lie, and kaveh knew. but he decided to stop pressing where it hurts. and just like that, half time was over and the team looked spent, but they still had 30 minutes to clutch. the cheers started up again. another touchdown, and chants of his name were the only things heard in the stadium. you felt surrounded. you just wanted to go home.

finally, the seventh minute began. the scoreboard emitting a soft glow displayed both home and away teams tied. everyone on the bleachers were all sat for these final minutes. including you. you watched intently with kaveh and your sports med teacher on the bench as they hiked the ball.

“alhaitham, number 9 is going for a throw,” the commentator’s voice reverberated through the field. alhaitham spots ajax, right on the 30 yard line, centered on the field. alhaitham takes a couple steps back and throws, the ball spins with accuracy. the crowd and kaveh all cheer.

“a dot! per usual from quarter back alhaitham, how many yards can their star running back score for the team!” ajax grabbed the ball and went for a right hook, swiftly dodging the defenders. he only got faster and faster as the cheers grew louder. he hooked right, and made his way for that touch down line.

“ajax! ajax! ajax!” the crowd chanted as kaveh and your teacher were now standing. you watched him closely, all of a sudden remembering back to when the two of you competed in your middle school’s flag football tournament. he had signed you up without you knowing, and you both somehow cinched first place.

“oh my god—” kaveh’s gasp snapped you out of your thoughts, as you looked onto the field.

the bleachers were silent now. ajax laid on his side, clutching his knee. the ball was long forgotten now.

“it appears number 11 is down.” the commentator remarked. your heart sank to your ass. you knew that knee injuries could fuck up anyone’s career in seconds. especially a running back’s. before you knew it, you were standing, your teacher yelled something to kaveh as he began running toward him to see what happened, you stood frozen. the cries of his fan girls behind you were the only things you could hear, kaveh was trying to tell you something, but you kept looking at ajax’s writhing body and back to kaveh, and back to ajax, and now at the rival team, and back to kaveh.

“y/n! are you listening? this is serious!” kaveh’s voice was almost a yell.

“i-i’m sorry, what do you need me to do?” you blinked a couple times.

“get the ice pack!” he yelled as kaveh made his way to the scene, the rival team went back to their bench as they were in small groups, most likely talking about what happened. you grabbed the ice pack from the cooler and ran over. his eyes were screwed shut as he cursed loudly, your teacher asking where it hurt.

“ah fuck, my knee! motherfu—” ajax bit back his curses with the back of his hand. your teacher radioed for a golf cart, which made you confused because you’d think someone would be calling 911.

“shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance..?” alhaitham asked, kneeling next to kaveh and ajax’s head. kaveh visibly looked flustered.

“y-yeah. we should! as a matter of fact, why don’t i just call them right—” your teacher cut kaveh off as he interjected.

“it’s a torn acl, if we call an ambulance right now, all they’ll do is give him some ice and painkillers which we very much have. we’re not spending 6k for an ice pack. save that money for the surgery.” your teacher remarked.

“the what..?” ajax looked at him with wide eyes as a campus supervisor came with a golf cart, the crowd was at a stand still.

“kaveh, stay here and take over for me. y/n, come with me.” you knew ajax’s injury was nothing life threatening, but you couldn’t help but worry for his future. you nodded your head as you and your teacher got into the front seat of the golf cart, cursing kaveh in your head, wishing it was him to take your place. ajax’s teammates carefully laid him on the golf cart and he cursed at them to be more careful. you rolled your eyes.

“ajax, we’re gonna need you to talk to us, we can’t have you passing out.” your teacher drove the golf cart to the recovery room, making sure to drive slowly over any bumps.

“you want me to talk? well, a torn acl is gonna ruin my goddamn career—fuck!” the golf cart jerked forward a little, making him curse.

“it’s probably not completely torn, ajax. you’ll recover in no time.” your teacher said.

“you’ll probably be out for the season.” you added, you couldn’t help but add a little salt in the wound.

“you’ll be out for the fucking year if you don’t shut the fuck up.” ajax snapped back at you.

“you need some ice dipshit?” you turned around with the ice pack and tossed it onto his knee, making him yell out in pain.

“what the FUCK is wrong with you—” he yelped in pain again, you just rolled your eyes.

“y/n! cut it out! you too, ajax. we’re here.” the teacher took the key out of the golf cart and looked at you. “i need to call his parents and file a report for the insurance, i’m trusting you to patch any cuts and tape his knee for the time being. keep the ice on it—and please don’t assault him.” your teacher was already on their way as they headed towards the office. you didn’t even get a minute to protest.

“no fucking way they just left me with this loser.” ajax scoffed from the back seat of the golf cart.

“at least my knee still works.” you grabbed the key and unlocked the recovery room, it had a couple of medical beds and cabinets filled with all kinds of medical equipment. you turned the lights on as you heard ajax outside yell.

“now you’re just leaving me? jesus, i couldn’t have asked for someone better to help me.” you ignored him as that was not what you were doing. you went to the smaller room in the back to get a wheelchair to get him onto one of the beds. you walked back outside, ajax’s face turned from one of pain to an angered look the minute you stepped outside. you wheeled the wheel chair to him.

“get on.” you said with little to no remorse.

“yeah let me just fly onto the fucking wheel chair why not. can you help me?” ajax yelled as he tried to sit up straight on the back seat. you scoffed and somehow got him onto the wheel chair. you both were silent, but you knew when ajax went quiet, he was overthinking. you knew he was thinking about what he’d do with his injury. you decided to give him something else to think about.

“it’s not that bad ajax. you survived skateboarding into a brick wall, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” you brought up an old memory the both of you shared.

“everyone saw. even the fucking scouters—i’m done for.” your words seemed to fly past his head. almost like he forgot about you and his’ history. you helped him onto the medical bed and made him sit straight so you could tape his knee. you went into the back room to get more ice. from the main room, you heard him start talking again.

“when i ran into that brick wall, you were the only one there. i didn’t have scouters that could get me d1 scholarships.” he remarked. he did remember at least. you came back with a roll of medical tape and some ice.

“you need to roll you pants up past your knee.” you went for the straight forward route as anything else would’ve gotten too awkward.

“yeah no fucking way that’s happening, cut it off for all i care.” you figured getting the leg of the pants over his injury wouldn’t be the most best of things, so you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his pants just above his thigh. he hissed in pain even though you didn’t even touch it. he was always this dramatic, you thought to yourself. you unrolled the pieces of tape and got to work. if ajax was good at football, you were the best at sports medicine. you knew how to wrap an ankle like second nature—a big part of the reason why your teacher asked you to assist, not kaveh. he went quiet again, and you’d much rather have him yelling at you than overthinking the situation after all this.

“how’s teucer?” you asked as he hissed whenever you’d place a piece of tape on his knee.

“w-why do you care? can you be any more gentle?” you looked up at him and kept working. you weren’t any gentler, you just worked slower to make it look like you were. he fell for it easily.

“he’s fine. he just graduated elementary—ow, school.” he responded after a minute passed.

“that’s good.” you said in quieter-than-usual tone. you couldn’t deny it was still awkward between you two. you hadn’t had a conversation like this in practically years, and you never thought you would have to. “so what exactly happened out there? you trip or something?” you knew he didn’t trip. you also knew that ajax had a tendency to overestimate himself, overall causing him more harm than good.

“the turf must’ve been off.” he said looking away. ajax was well aware he let himself get cocky. it was the final minutes of the game and he wanted to end it off strong. in doing so, he got himself a torn acl. good going ajax.

“mhm..”

“what? don’t believe me?” before you could answer the question, your teacher walked in. the first thing ajax asked was if they won the game or not. his “half touchdown” didn’t count, leaving them still tied.

“we won. but it was still a close call.”

ajax looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. he was already upset with his injury, and a loss especially with their title as undefeated would be 10x worse. you tried to look normal, but in truth, you were a little happy for the team. after all, you had some sense of school pride.

“your mom is outside. i’ve talked to her already and explained the injury in length. please focus on resting, then let’s talk about your next games.” with that, your teacher left you both alone again.

“can you walk?” you asked.

“i’ll try.” he said wincing as he got up. you went to his side and put his arm around you. it was silent. you helped him to the parking lot, occasional swears were heard from him. you said his mom waiting outside of the car.

“oh sweetie!” ajax’s mom held him tightly.

“hi mom, i’m fine.” his words were muffled into her shoulder.

“oh goodness, let’s get you in the car!” she helped him into the passanger seat. they spoke to each other in russian, it sounded like he was getting scolded. it was none of your business anyway. after doing so, she came back out.

“y/n? i remember you!” she said, giving you a hug.

“hi mrs tartaglia.” ajax’s mom had a soft spot for you. she’d always pack you extra food, and would never fail to treat you like one of her own, it made you happy. due to the circumstances, you hadn’t seen her in what felt like years.

“how’ve you been? we’ve missed you!” her hand stayed on your shoulder, her voice was genuine. but who exactly did she mean by “we”?

“i’ve been alright, thanks for asking.”

“ajax still talks about you, you should come over some time! teucer and tonia miss you!”

huh?

did you hear that right?

maybe it she didn’t actually mean it like that, why would ajax still be talking about you?

ajax rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

“mom i’m hurting let’s go.” he half shouted.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you soon hopefully, y/n! thank you for looking after ajax!” she said with a warm smile as she got back in the car before you could say a word. you simply waved and smiled back at her. you glanced over for a second, seeing ajax on his phone. you didn’t understand. did ajax really stil talk about you? you’d have a lot to tell kaveh..

the two of them left the parking lot in their black tahoe suv. you just stood and watched. you cursed to yourself. you couldn’t understand why ajax’s words pulled at your heartstrings a little. you were confused. and things would only get more confusing from there.

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eitaababe · 1 year

Note

Hiiii can i make a request for a possessive neteyam 🥹 i need one where he x reader argue, and he says something hurtful because he’s jealous and reader goes to leave the hut to cool off because she’s hurt but he makes it up to her ;) WINK WINK maybe a little touch of a begging neteyam as well hehe

Dirty filthy nasty talk as well sorry I’m done now LMAO

SOMEONE ELSE !

a/n — hi love! sorry i don't really feel comfortable writing smut with neteyam (or anyone lmao) just yet 😭 so i just made it a lil suggestive at the end i hope that's ok!! / also since the end is suggestive and implied to lead to something neteyam's aged up cause he's a minor and that would be awk🧍‍♂️

—

To say you and Neteyam were inseparable was practically an understatement. Ever since you'd met as kids, you always stuck together. You were there for each other when you got your ikrans, even, and you'd always go on rides together. A dynamic duo, people liked to call you.

So of course, when his family left the clan for the safety of everyone, you couldn't just let your mate leave you. So with some convincing and promising that the Sully's would take you in as their own, your parents reluctantly agreed, deciding you could choose your own future.

Though you missed the forrest, being by the ocean was something you'd never experienced before, and it was one of the most beautiful sights you've ever seen. There were so many creatures and the people were different in many ways, you were excited to learn about everything.

However, you grew less and less thrilled when you realized the time you spent with Neteyam would diminish to very little. He was always out and about, getting to ride his ilu and protecting his siblings from those in the village who looked down upon them. He was always so stressed, so tired, that when you did hang out, you always felt like a burden, or an argument would start.

So you started to keep your distance, and as a result, met new people and made new friends. You started to enjoy the presence of a boy named Rotxo, who was allegedly one of Ao'nung's friends. You were skeptic at first, not hearing so good things about his friend, but the more you got to know him, he became a trustworthy friend. He heard all about your struggles with Neteyam, always a good listener and giving good advice.

Although, Neteyam didn't see you and Rotxo's relarionship as anything friendly. In fact, whenever he spotted you two, he could be sulking for the rest of the day. Granted, it was his fault you two haven't been talking as much, and he could probably just have talked to you about it. But he didn't know how, and as a result, you'd found another person to fill his company.

Was he really that easy to replace?

Finally having enough, Neteyam wordlessly grabbed your arm, dragging you away mid-conversation with Rotxo. He ignored your protests and took to a secluded area, stopping only to be met with a harsh glare.

"What the hell, Neteyam?" You shouted, crossing your arms. Yikes. He didn't think that one through. "What's your problem? I was talking to him!"

"Well maybe I don't want you talking to him!"

"Why?" You inquired, annoyed at his antics. "You don't get to decide who I can and can't talk to. I'm my own person. Plus he's my friend. And he's been better company than you, as of late."

His heart dropped at the blow, knowing you were right. "It just makes me uncomfortable, okay? I don't like him being close to you."

"Oh, you don't like someone else enjoying my company? Sorry Neteyam, but I'm not going to wait around alone and close myself off from everyone else just because you refuse to talk to me! I happen to enjoy talking to Rotxo, and there's nothing you can do that will stop me."

"Fine then," he snapped, jealousy overcoming him. "Go! Go be with Rotxo. See if I care," he paused, sinking his fingers into the palms of his fists and unable to stop himself from digging an even bigger whole. "I have others who want my company. There's many metkayina women who would enjoy my presence."

Offended that he would say such a thing, you scoffed, not recognizing the man standing in front of you. "Fine then! Go be with another woman!"

"I will!" He responded without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on your face.

"I never want to see you again." You seethed, eyes glossy as you walked hastily away from him, leaving a regretful Neteyam.

The days that passed by all felt like a blur, your heart throbbing. Did he really mean that? Was he tired of you? Were you making a mistake when you decided to follow him and his family? Rotxo listened to all your worries, comforting you and helping you avoid Neteyam at all costs.

He kept looking for you, wanting a chance to apologize. He wishes he had just kept his mouth shut, or went after you once you walked away. The scene replayed in his head constantly, thinking of what he could've done different to make you not hate him.

So he waited until after eclipse, and when everyone else went to bed, he went out to the beach, knowing you would be there. You always enjoyed the solitude of nighttime, when nobody else was awake and you could watch the waves peacefully on your own.

Neteyam slowly made his way up to you, awkwardly clearing his throat to grab your attention. When you actually turned around and focused on him he was shocked, wide eyed and speechless. "Um, hi."

"Hi." you curtly responded, ready to leave when he grabbed your hand.

"Please, y/n. I want to apologize." He pleaded.

You gave him a look, as if saying to get on with it. He hesitated, not completely sure what to say. "I'm...i'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I was jealous that you were spending more time with Rotxo."

You stayed silent still, making him nervous. "And I don't want another woman," he added, looking you dead in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it. You are the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. You are kind, sweet, loyal, and have been nothing but the best for me. I took that for granted, so when I saw you enjoying the company of another, it pissed me off. I cannot stand the thought of you being with someone who isn't me." he stopped, and you noticed his eyes starting to glimmer in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry. Truly. And if you don't forgive me I understand." Neteyam finally finished, his chest rising up and down shakily.

"Oh, ma Neteyam," you cooed, taking his face in your hands. You wiped away the tears that fell down his face with your thumbs, kissing where they fell. "I could never want anyone other than you. I just need you to talk to me next time, okay? No more keeping your problems from me. I'm here to help you with your burdens, not hide them."

The boy nodded wordlessly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I promise, my love. I will never make you feel like I want someone else again."

He then trailed kisses down your jaw, lips softly moving over the skin of your neck. His teeth grazed over it, biting lightly. He chuckled from the soft sound that left your throat, kisses drifting down below your neck. He pressed you against a tree, knee separating your legs.

"Neteyam, not here." You breathed out, not making any attempt to stop him. But, you really didn't want to get caught by anyone in a public area like this.

"Shh, my love," he soothed, hands wafting towards your loincloth. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?"

Oh, you were in for a long night.

—

a/n — i literally had no idea how to write the ending i'm sorry if it's bad 🧍‍♂️

#avatar x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #avatar fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #— requests !#— answered

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

One Time Thing | 01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; what are you going to do when your best friend asks you to have sex with her boyfriend?

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jimin x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: best friend's boyfriend au, angst, fluff, smut

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, oral sex (f.), protected sex, breast play

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k+

𝐚/𝐧: I've decided to rewrite and repost this entire series. It's one of my first series on this blog, have been put on-hold for the longest time ever. It still is... not gonna lie, rewriting this story brought me mixed feelings about this. I'm not sure if it's worth posting and writing – so please if you like this story let me know! The future of this story depends on you (literally) because I've been thinking about deleting it. I'm just not sure if ppl will like it, so if you do please let me know. Don't ask me how I came up with this story idea lmao I don't even know but I always come out with the weirdest ideas ever.

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ (links to be added)

“What?!”

The scream rips out of your throat, loud enough to make your best friend cringe at the loudness of your tone. But you don't care. You don't seem to focus enough to care. No other words leaving your mouth while you stare completely shocked at her. You just can't seem to believe what she just said. Your rapidly beating heart says it all.

No, you must've heard her wrong. She definitely didn't say it and you misunderstood her. That's right. But then she speaks again, repeating her once said words that make you stop breathing.

“I want you to sleep with my boyfriend.” she says like it's nothing. She makes it sound as if she’s asking you to water her plants or some other dumb request.

“What the fuck?!” Horrified by her words, you scream again. “Oh my god. I know what’s happening.” you say with a hand over your chest, where you can feel every beat your heart makes.

“You know?” she asks, genuinely surprised with her eyebrows raised.

You nod. “You’re pranking me, aren’t you? It’s because I gave you vodka instead of water you asked for that one time. You’re pranking me back.” you laugh as you shake your head.

She looks at you dumbfounded looking at your crazy state. You're laughing like a maniac, wiping your non-existed tears as she only stares.

“Woah, you almost got me!”

“I’m not pranking you, Y/N. I’m serious.” she says with an absolutely serious face expression.

Your smile drops as you check her face. There's a beat of silence. You've never been more confused than you're now. Nevertheless, you still wait for her abrupt laugh, telling I got you or anything that could prove her prank worked. But she doesn’t. In fact, she doesn't do anything as her features twist into a slight worry. She isn’t the type to prank anyone anyway. Staring right back at her, you find nothing but seriousness and that's when you know.

She’s telling the truth. This is no prank.

“W-wait... are you serious?”

“Hundred percent yes. Let me explain this to you. I know it sounds crazy.”

“You think? This is the craziest shit you’ve ever said and you said a ton of it.” you deadpan, ignoring her silent laugh.

“I know this sounds really crazy and you’re probably thinking what the fuck did I just tell you...” she trails off but then suddenly laughs once she has a perfect view of your wide eyes and open mouth. What the hell is she on? Has she been doing drugs?

“I-I don’t get it.”

“Well, the thing is.. me and Jimin haven’t been really sexually active.” she starts explaining, your head shaking in a shock.

“I still don’t get it.” you interrupt her, causing her to roll her eyes while silently telling you to shut up with her expression.

“If you would just shut up and listen to me.”

“Okay I’m really curious how you’ll explain this.” you remark.

“We haven’t had sex for like months. Since I’m on birth control, I don’t know why but I don’t really want to have sex. The thing is I get horny but not to the point I want to act on it. I already tried to consult with my gynecologist but she just told me it’s completely normal for me to feel this way and that it has something to do with hormones or whatever,” she explains, not forgetting to roll her eyes as she sighs before continuing.

“She told me it’ll stop eventually. I already tried different birth controls. Jimin suggested I should stop using it but I don’t want to get knocked up. I feel much safer with birth control. But lately... we’ve been having these arguments about it. I kind of lashed out at him telling him he can fuck whoever he wants and I wouldn’t care. I’d just get so annoyed everytime he wanted to have sex. And I feel so bad because it’s not Jimin’s fault. I should be able to please him but blowjobs don't cut it this time. It’s just not enough.”

You blink, trying to let her words sink in. Once you get yourself together, at least enough to process her words, you lick your lips.

“But sex isn’t everything. You love each other so much and your relationship shouldn’t be based on sex.” you say truthfully while looking at her saddened face.

Now that the shock is fading away, you realize she's absolutely serious and this goes much deeper than you thought. All of this makes her frustrated.

“I know. Jimin is the kindest person I know. He told me that it’s okay and we don’t have to have sex but I know how much sexually frustrated he is. I feel like I’m such a bad girlfriend. After our argument we had this long conversation about it and then I was kind of thinking about you,” she says, her eyes nervously flicking to yours as you blink at her with a terrified look. “ You haven’t gotten laid in a long time always complaining how you’re not interested in having sex with a complete stranger. And I know you mentioned Jimin’s hot in the past so..”

“So what? You want me to have sex with him just because I said he’s hot? I said that about tons of men already.” And she doesn't see you having sex with all of them.

“Yeah but he thinks you’re hot as well.”

“What?”

What did she say? She has shocked you already too much today. You swear you're about to have a heart attack.

“He told me before we got into a relationship.”

That’s right. Mina and Jimin started as friends with benefits. They still slept with other people but after some time they became exclusive. After that they started dating and here they are. In a relationship completely in love.

“The thing is I know that you’re one of the kindest people I know. You always had my back and helped me with everything and I’m so grateful for you! And I know that you’ll not catch any feelings for Jimin.”

“I’m not that sexually frustrated that I need to have sex with your boyfriend. That’s ridiculous.” you say, sounding almost offended. “I barely know him.”

It's true. There are a few occasions where you and him see each other. Most of them happen at Mina's place and he happened to come there while you were there as well. It's not like you and him haven't talked. You do talk – casually but that's it. Nothing more. Plus, you're already busy with school and the only person you get to hang out in your free time is Mina. And Mina only. Well, there's Yoongi too – your other very close friend.

You could probably count on your fingers how many conversations you've had with Jimin. Not many, that's for sure. Most of the stuff you know about him is from Mina anyway. It's not like Jimin shares his personal life with you.

“That’s why it wouldn’t be so weird.” she says and you look at her completely dumbfounded by her words. Is she high? “I know it doesn’t make any sense right now.”

“I’m still shocked this isn't a prank.” you admit while you play with your nails. “Won’t you be jealous knowing me and Jimin are having sex?” The sudden thought crosses your mind. Not that you're seriously considering this stupid plan of hers!

“It’s just a one time thing. And no. I already told you how desperate I am. I need your help but I know how weird of me it is to ask you of this. You don’t have to do it. I’ll completely understand you. But you’re the only person I trust with Jimin.”

“B-but what about him? Isn’t this weird for him too?”

“Actually he had a pretty much similar reaction to yours when I first proposed this. He was hesitating about this but then he agreed to it.”

“I-I don’t know what to say to be honest.”

“Here, drink this.” she says, giving you your cup of tea she made for you. “I know you probably need something stronger than tea.” She tries to joke.

“Damn right. I could use a bottle of vodka right now.” you mumble before you take a few sips of your tea which by the way – doesn't calm your nerves. Not even one bit.

It feels like your head is about to blow up. Never in a million years you've imagined Mina would come for help about something like this. You do appreciate that she shares such a personal matter with you. But you're still not quite sure why she wants you to help. Sure, she explained herself and you're not dumb to not notice how much this truly frustrates you. But still. This has to be the dumbest ask of help you've ever experienced.

Averting your gaze elsewhere, your mind goes spiral and your thoughts wander to the mentioned man.

Jimin is handsome. There’s no secret in that.

You remember the first time you saw him. It was at a party and your mouth dropped once you were met at his sharp jaw, black hair and thick lips. All of these features make him mesmerizing and unique. After the party, you saw him in your art class but you've never talked to each other during it. He remained this mysterious guy everyone was looking and drooling at. Only if you would've known him a little bit more, you could've said you had a tiny crush on him. But can you say you had it? You didn't even know his full name back then.

And then Mina met him.

Somehow they bumped into each other and soon enough, they started to have this weird friends-with-benefits relationship. You've never drooled at him anymore. It didn't feel appropriate. Not when your best friend was having sex with him at any opportunity. It felt weird to think about him that way. Of course, he never stopped being a hot piece of man – you're not blind. You've blocked every nearly inappropriate thought of him.

Mina's voice cuts off your thoughts of her boyfriend.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. Not at all. I’m okay with whatever answer you’ll give me. I just had to try this with you because I’m so desperate. It’s been months since we had sex.” Her eyes turn glossy, sounding just as desperate as she says she is.

Knowing your best friend you're aware that this is something deep. This really must’ve bothered her when she came with this to you. She wouldn’t ask this of anyone else. Not when she’s completely in love with Jimin.

Have you ever imagined having sex with Jimin? Yes.

But do you still want it when he’s your best friend’s boyfriend? Not so sure anymore.

That sounds completely fucked up. Even if she seems to be okay with it.

Even when you don't want to admit it – Mina was right. You haven’t had sex for couple of months as well. You just didn’t want to hook up with someone you don't know, even if there were many opportunities for you to do so. You've always been picky about your taste and sex partners.

The last time you had sex was with your ex and that’s it. You've never had sex with someone who you weren’t dating with. It just wasn’t your thing. Still isn't.

What should you do? The decision is up to you. You could simply tell her no and then you would never have to talk about this again. But the desperation filling her face and the lack of sex in your life beg to differ. There's seriously something wrong with you because you catch yourself considering this. As if it already wasn't enough, Jimin's plump lips make their way into your brain. Argh! There's undeniable guilt pinching deep inside your chest because you're thinking about his lips when he's Mina's boyfriend. You can't help it.

Just the thought of seeing Jimin naked and feeling his skin against yours makes your skin hot already. Mina has opened the closed door now. Under different circumstances, you would've never dared to think of Jimin like this. Not anymore.

The lack of excitement and lust in your busy life is the cause of this. You suddenly start to imagine how this one time thing can be beneficial to all three of you.

Much to your surprise, you shock yourself and Mina when you mutter; “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Mina throws herself at you, clutching you to her body while you stay frozen, not being able to react in any way. You've no idea how this is going to go.

You are hoping you won’t regret your decision. This sounds already fucked up.

It takes only two days for Mina to set up a meeting with Jimin. You hate how businessy that sounds. Mina's idea consists of you and Jimin meeting somewhere alone, right before you jump straight to it. You're not sure if there's a point of getting to know each other a little bit better. However, she does have a point in making you two talk and make sure this is what you both want. You're not opposed to that. You definitely want to hear Jimin's opinion about this. Plus, Mina has never failed to remind you that you can back out whenever you want.

Even though you've tried to calm down your nerves and tried to tell yourself that this doesn't have to be any more awkward and weird than it already is – you just can't seem to shake off the nervosity flowing through your body. You're supposed to meet your best friend's boyfriend, talking about potentially hooking up together.

Mina gave Jimin your number which resulted in him texting you first. You don't think you could've made the first step. Not that it's required of you. It's them, well Mina, who came to you for help. As much as you'll get something out of this, potentially, they're the first ones who need help. It's not like you need one. All of this could be beneficial to you too.

Besides, you'll see how you and Jimin will get along and how the entire conversation will go.

You've agreed to meet at a local coffee shop, trying to keep it as casual as possible.

You wouldn't lie if you said you haven't considered backing out before even meeting Jimin. You're still not sure if you can face him and act all casual about this. In the end, you decide to keep your cool and at least try to see where all of this is going. Plus, you would feel bad for standing up Jimin. Or anyone who would be in his place.

Still, you nervously swallow as soon as you find Jimin sitting at a table, waiting for you. His phone is in his hand as he browses through it for a moment, just before he puts it back on the table and looks up. Your eyes lock shortly after and you realize there's no backing out now. You have to get there and meet him.

Maybe Jimin can sense your nervous state, or sees the way you hesitate but then he sends you a wide smile, waving you over. Gosh, you feel so weird. Not trying to block the entrance, you walk up to the table where he sits before you plop on the opposite side of him.

Seeing him this closer causes a lump to create in your throat. You're aware of his eyes on you as you pull out your phone out of the pocket of your jeans, trying to busy yourself before you have to truly face him. But all of this takes seconds and you're forced to lift your eyes up.

Brown hair parted in the middle, his eyes crinkle at the ends as he speaks softly; “Hi.”

It's been a while since you've heard him. Damn, you haven't seen him for weeks. That's if you don't count the art class you share. But even there, you barely paid any attention to each other.

“Hey,” you gulp, swallowing down the nervosity.

Before you can say anything more, the waitress comes to your table to take your orders. You order the first thing that crosses your mind which is a cherry tea. Jimin orders the exact same order looking slightly nervous. He doesn’t even look at the menu automatically saying 'same as her’.

“So,” he starts, chuckling and for the first time, you notice he's nervous too. “I don’t even know how to start. This is so weird.” he admits.

That makes you crack a grin.

“Tell me something about it. I thought I would run away as soon as I came here.” you laugh at yourself. Jimin joins your laughter, his top teeth sinking into his bottom juicy lip. God dammit.

“I’m going to be honest with you. I already know what my answer is and I’m not gonna change it. But if you feel like you want to back out you always can. I don’t want you to think this is something you have to do. Not for me or Mina. That’s our shit we pulled you into.” he says almost the exact same words as Mina. They both wanted you to know you don’t have to do this. And you know. God, you know - but you still want to do it.

“I know,” you smile at his caring gaze he is giving you. “But is this really something you want to do?” you ask just to be sure.

He smiles a little bit at your question. “I’m not going to lie. When Mina came to me with this idea I freaked out. But then it sounded kinda… good in some weirdest way possible. I love Mina but this is something we both agreed on.”

“Yeah, but like... I’m her best friend. Isn’t that weird?”

“It is. But I don’t really know you that much, no offense. I know you’re her best friend. She never shuts up about you but at the same time I don’t know you. No offense.” he says again, checking your reaction as if he's waiting for you to get offended.

“None taken.” you chuckle when he protectively puts his hands in front of him.

“So do you want to do this?” he asks, tone dropping lower as he stares into your eyes.

You bite your lip and without thinking you nod.

“Words. I need words Y/N.” Your name from his lips already sounds addicting.

“I do. I want this.” you speak softly, giving him the exact answer he wanted. He smirks a little bit, his sweet behavior changing to a cocky one for a bit.

You shake yourself out of the daze before it can erupt as you find your voice again.

“This is just a one time thing, right?”

“Of course.” he immediately agrees.

What kind of mess did you get yourself into?

It’s the D-day.

That sounds awful.

It’s time for you to have sex with Jimin. That sounds even more awful. You feel completely nauseous and nervous. But not in the way that makes you want to turn around. It probably sounds ridiculous and considering the situation and relationship between all three of you – you trust Jimin. You might not know him well enough, but he's familiar. He's no stranger. And from Mina's words back from the days they only hooked up, there is something to be excited for.

Which reminds you that Mina is working her shift, aware of you and Jimin hooking up today. You still can't believe she's fine with all of this and after numerous questions of whether she's sure of this or not, she has finally managed to convince you that yes, she is more than fine.

Since they relationship has started with sex, there's a chance that it's not important to their relationship that much anymore. You're not sure how they'll solve this in the future. Will Jimin fuck other girls?

Before you can burden your already ready-to-burst brain, you knock on Jimin's front door. Your jeans work as the best surface for you to wipe your sweaty hands against.

Why the hell are you constantly so nervous? Is it because you're about to have a sex for the first time in a while? Or is it because it's with Jimin out of all people? You're not sure.

The door opens and reveals Jimin.

He's wearing jeans with a black belt, with a matching black shirt tucked into them. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, exposing his forehead and brows to you as he shoots you a polite smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you almost stutter, but still give yourself a mental high-five for not stuttering.

Jimin eyes stay on your for a moment. He can probably see your nervous state. Hell, you aren’t even hiding it. You can’t but you wish you could.

“Please come in.” he says politely instead, moving to the side as he gives you a space for you to come in.

The moment you step inside, Jimin closing the door softly behind you, you note the scent of wood and something sweet. You can't put a finger on what it is, but it smells really nice.

Understandably, you've never been to his place. There wasn't any need to – let alone the opportunity. As you take off your shoes and let Jimin guide you deeper into his place, you silently take it in. You will give him points for a good taste in furniture and decoration. You're not sure what you've expected – not that you thought about what his place looks like – it still takes you by surprise. It's quite surprising seeing his home so beautiful. It's definitely modern with a personal touch of Jimin. Most men's homes are usually a big mess.

“Do you live alone?” you ask behind him, slowly following him.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you feel alone here all by yourself?” you ask curiously once you stop in the living room. Jimin motions for you to sit on the white couch and you obey, seating yourself on the soft mattress.

“Mina is here most of the time, so no.” he answers.

Your movements stop for a moment at the mention of your best friend.

“Oh, sorry. I should not mention her right now.” he awkwardly scratches the back of his head as he gives you an apologetic look. He sits on the other end of the couch, looking more comfortable with his arm stretched over the headrest.

“Why not? She’s your girlfriend after all.” you say, shrugging your shoulders. You assure him that it's okay and there's no need for him to act like Mina is not existing. However, it is weird no matter what. The last thing you want to be reminded of before having sex is Mina. You already feel so fucking weird about this and him talking about your best friend doesn’t really help.

“She is but due to our circumstances it’s not fair to you,” he says, “Do you want anything to drink? Water, coffee? Maybe some alcohol?”

He wants you to feel as comfortable as you can. If giving you some alcohol would help, then so be it. You kindly shake your head though. “Nah, I’m good.”

He nods as awkward silence surrounds you. You both look at each other and suddenly start to laugh. “This is so awkward. Are we supposed to jump right into it?” you ask laughing at how ridiculous this situation is.

“I mean.. we could. I don’t mind.” he surprises you with his words. Especially how simply they fall out of his lips.

Staring at each other, something stirs deeply inside your stomach and you recognize the little excitement. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you smile. “I suppose we could.”

He offers you his hand which you gladly take. His hands clasps around yours without interweaving your fingers. He leads you into his bedroom which is even more beautiful than the living room. He has a massive bed at the end of his room. Two night tables on each side. Big closet with mirror opposite of it. You can see some art decorating his walls but it still looks minimal.

“A-are we.. you know.. in here?” Great, you've stuttered.

“You know. You can say it straight away you don’t have to sugarcoat it.” he chuckles a little bit while closing the door behind you.

“Fine. Are we gonna fuck here?” you ask straight away and look his way.

He has a little smirk on his plump lips which he licks.

“That’s how I like it,” he mumbles more to himself. “We could move to the living room or any place you’d like.” he suggests while your cheeks burn. Did he just implied you could fuck perhaps in the kitchen if you wanted to? He absolutely did.

“No, this is fine.” you say after a while. You are more fine with this actually. You just feel weird thinking this is where he and Mina sleep together.

“I know what you’re thinking. Me and Mina haven’t had sex for so long. But you already know that.”

How is he able to read you so well when he barely knows you? “That’s why I’m here.” you say quietly walking to his bed. You touch his silky sheets which must’ve cost fortune.

“Do you want to back out?” he asks suddenly. You turn around finding him staring at you with his dark eyes. His stare changes. He isn’t looking at you innocently and friendly like a few minutes ago. You can see one thing you were sure of. Lust.

You bite your lower lip shaking your head.

“Words, Y/N.” he speaks sternly. You immediately remember the day when you met at the coffee shop. He wants you to say it out loud.

“Fuck me, Jimin.” you speak loud enough for him to quickly walk up to you.

Grabbing your face he presses your lips together. Other than being in complete awe that Park Jimin is kissing you now, you hold yourself back from moaning when his delicious soft lips taste way better than you've ever imagined. Mina is damn lucky. Your lips melt together so fast and you can’t breathe. The build up frustration of the lack of sex – on both parts – seem to get the best of you. Once Jimin pulls away to catch his breath, you both breathe heavily as he doesn't move away, pressing his forehead to yours instead. Your breath catches in your throat from the close proximity. You can smell his aftershave and fragrance that practically oozes from him. Not just that but the raunchy sex appeal as well. His lips taste like a cherry lip balm and there are traces of mouthwash on his tongue.

You wonder if this isn’t weird for Jimin. Kissing you while his girlfriend is away and she knows about this. This is so fucking weird but you can’t help yourself and kiss him again despite the lack of your oxygen. You don't know what gets to you. It's probably desperation. You don't want to talk about who he truly is. You don't want to think about Mina. You're doing this to enjoy this. You will treat him as he's just a normal guy, with no attachments to you or anyone you know.

Pushing him against his chest, he lets you push him down onto the mattress. He smirks at the dominance. You're trying to stay unaffected as you climb onto his lap. He lets you, hands hovering over your hips before he holds you there. The moment you sit down, your mouth opens once you can tell his cock is hardening. The bulge in his jeans is not that hard to notice now.

It's not like you're not wet. Fuck, you're dripping wet – you can already tell the discomfort between your legs. What you find ridiculous though, is the fact that you're not sure you've ever been this aroused and wet for your ex boyfriend.

He's barely touching you and your whole body is on fire, desperate to tear his clothes off to see what he's hiding beneath them. Jimin stares up at you, the little smirk still playing on his lips as he squeezes your hips. You start kissing his jaw and neck, inhaling secretly his scent again while you're careful not to leave any marks. A visible proof of what you're about to do – what you're already doing – is not something Mina should see. Even if she knows. You would feel like a complete idiot if she had to see Jimin and find any marks on her boyfriend.

Going back to his face and lps, you connect them again in a heated kiss even though you don’t want to kiss too much. Well, not that you don't want to but you're not sure if it seems right. After all – kissing is too intimate but you can’t help it. His lips are so addicting you always have to dive for another taste.

Your body screams for more, so you slowly grind yourself against his bulge. Throwing your head back at the sudden friction and slight relief it brings, you can't believe you're fucking doing this. Jimin is not unaffected either, he grunts as he squeezes your hips tighter, all while he helps you grind against him. He puts more pressure, leaving both of you gasping.

“Fucking hell.” he moans loudly, embarrassed how quickly out of control he is.

But you're too oblivious to his inner embarrassment, having no idea what he's been through despite Mina letting you the main problem. The truth is, his hand doesn't do its job anymore. Jerking off in the mornings or in the shower is not thrilling anymore. Not when he has a beautiful girlfriend, whom he has wanted to touch everytime she just laid beside him only in her underwear. He knows the lack of sex has made his hormones go crazy. That's understandable. It's not like he sees her as a sexual object, not at all. He was completely fine with the occasional blowjobs or handjobs (when she didn't want to mess up her make-up). But the truth is, sex might not be the most important part or thing in their relationship, it's still a key to a healthy relationship in some way.

And he did touch her. Sometimes. But it was more of him waiting for her to lash out at him. He is walking on eggshells when it comes to her. That eventually made both of them frustrated in their own ways.

He wanted to fuck his girlfriend so many times, but she was never in the mood.

But here you are. Grinding on his cock, looking like a perfect mixture of angel and devil at the same time. All of a sudden, he halts your movements and is met with your confused eyes.

“Okay you had your fun.” he chuckles deeply, biting harshly on his lower lip when he feels his hard cock poking you at your clothed entrance. You look just as fucked out, but you still find yourself to ask.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no,” he replies immediately. You are ready to laugh at that, but the only sound leaving your lips is yelping when he turns you over. He smirks when he sees your surprised stare by the sudden movement and how easily he has managed to flip you over. “My turn.” he rasps, diving his head to your neck.

Jimin mimics your movements from earlier. You suddenly feel him sucking your skin, too fucked out to tell him to stop. You don’t mind it. You find it so hot. You find him so hot.

“Is it okay for me to undress you?” he asks with a soft tone and gaze.

“Go ahead.” you nod at him.

You see his sweet smile before his fingers work on your button and zipper. You help him undress your jeans leaving you in your shirt and white underwear. You see him biting his lower lip again before he continues to take off your shirt. You are left in your underwear in seconds. The white bralette is complimenting your breasts and Jimin feels like salivating at the pure sight. Fuck, he needs to get himself together.

Jimin is unaware that you've picked your best underwear set you have in your closet. As much as he's not aware how guilty you feel for trying for him. You wanted to look good for him. It’s not like you want to seduce him. You just wanted to look your best. You still don’t understand what Jimin sees in you, or more accurately, why he had agreed to do this with you.

It seems like he wants to say something but he stops himself before pulling your panties down to your ankles. He tosses them on the floor not caring where they’re going to end. His gaze is locked up at your spread legs. Insecurity is already crawling through your whole body. You are about to clasp your legs when he stops you. Giving you a small smile seconds before he opens his mouth.

“Can I go down on you?” he asks suddenly. You lift your head and look at him surprisingly.

He wants to eat you out? Well damn, you're shocked again. You thought you’ll just have sex and that’s it. No foreplay. Not that you're complaining.

“Yes.” The answer comes immediately. And then you feel hot breath where you most need him.

He licks your pussy, having a taste of you. You moan loudly, throwing your head back in pleasure. You arch your back wanting nothing more than to touch him. But you know better and grab silky sheets instead.

“Oh my god!” you moan when you feel his tongue at your hole before he presses further. “Fuck Jimin!” You feel yourself clenching around his tongue.

He fucks you with his tongue, his two fingers pressing against your clit. He has experience, that's for sure. All this time you've craved someone else's touch and now you're getting it. You're way more sensitive which makes your orgasm approach faster than ever. You don't want it to end. Grabbing Jimin's hair and pulling onto them gently, still careful not to hurt him, you give him a silent plea of stopping. But he still keeps going, feeling you getting close.

“Stop, Jimin.” you moan and he immediately pulls away.

Mouth drenched in your wetness, his worried eyes are on you just as you breathe heavily, ignoring the feeling of disappointment your body feels. Your walls clench around nothing.

“Just fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.” you breathe, trying to calm down yourself. He immediately relaxes, something you notice just as he sits back on his knees.

“So greedy.” Chuckling he undresses himself.

You're watching his every movement while he watches your lustful gaze. He feel his chock twitching at your already fuck out state. You watch him pull his boxers off revealing his cock. You don’t know what you were expecting but damn is he thick. Knowing it's been a while since you've had sex, you wonder if he's going to fit.

“You mentioned you’re clean, right?” he asks, suddenly stroking his cock casually. You remember your conversation you had in the coffee shop. You both got tested and you’re both clean.

“Are you ready?” he asks for the last time.

You're about to nod, noticing the way he lifts up his brow as if he knew what you're about to do. Clearing your throat, you remember he wants to hear you.

“Yes.”

He chuckles at this knowing exactly what was going on inside your head.

He leans over you as he opens a drawer of his night stand. He pulls out a condom already ripping off the package. He gets back into his previous spot – he moves between your spread legs and puts the head of his cock at your entrance. “God, you’re so wet.” he says, almost fascinated.

You cringe at yourself when you find yourself almost saying just for you. He gathers some of the wetness onto his cock. He is about to tease you but god, you make it so hard for him. Spreaded in front of him like this completely naked. He says to himself little fuck it and slowly enters you. You want to squeeze your eyes shut but you don’t. You look at him through your hooded eyes. His eyes are closed and pleasure written all over his face.

“How are you this tight?” he grunts when he fills you to the brim. God, he's so thick. The words make you clench around him automatically. “You good? Can I move?” he almost begs but still stops to make sure you’re okay with this.

“Yeah, move. Please.” you whimper - the feeling of pain and pleasure becoming too much for you. You need him to move.

“As you wish, princess.” he suddenly says completely surprising you with the pet name. He probably got lost in the pleasure, you guess. And he does as he says.

He starts slowly but it feels like he can’t keep going slow as he fastens up his pace. His left hand grabs your hips so you wouldn’t move too much. His other hand takes one of your breasts, squeezing gently as his thumb brushes over your nipple.

“Have you been fucked like this?” He grunts, keeping his rapid pace. Moans escaping your lips. “I asked you something.” he growls pinching your nipple causing you to arch your back moaning loudly.

“No. No one fucked me like this.” You answer between moans grabbing his hand that's on your breast. You stare at the veiny hand, enough to make your eyes roll back. What a fucking sight.

“I’ll fuck you properly. Don’t worry.” he smirks and starts to go even rougher and faster. You don’t think that was even possible.

“Fuck.” you moan, aware of the loudness and momentarily, you think of his neighbors hearing you. All of it is gone when Jimin speaks through clenched teeth.

“Moan my name.” he gasps.

You hesitate, not sure what to do. But his hand leaves your hip and instead comes around your neck. Your eyes widen, walls tightening when he squeezes slightly. Not too much – you barely feel it.

“I said, moan my name Y/N.” he growls like some beast having you moan his name again and again. You feel your orgasm approaching still not wanting to cum. It’s too soon for you. You could go for hours like this. As much as embarrassing it is to admit.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my cock.” he keeps grunting from above you and the blissful sound of his moans makes you squeeze him tight. The knot suddenly rips and you're cumming around him, your entire body feeling light.

You feel him twitch inside you, giving you a few firm thrusts before his moves become sloppy. Big fuck leaving his lips as he spills inside the condom. Once he's done, every drop of his cum inside the condom, he lays beside you while you both breathe heavily. You close your eyes for a bit trying to catch a breath.

Moments later, you feel the mattress dip as he moves. Opening your eyes, you see him standing up. He throws the condom into the bin that sits in the corner of his room. Sitting up, now that the moment is over you feel the weird feeling coming back.

You've never been in this situation before. What are you supposed to do? You should probably get the hell out of here. Jimin's eyes are on you, watching you and your naked figure as you quickly get to the edge of his bed, grabbing your shirt.

“I, uh, I should probably go.” you mutter awkwardly, quickly putting on your shirt followed by your panties. You don't bother to put the bra on, silently showing how quickly you want to get out of here.

“You can take a shower if you want.” he offers while putting his boxers back on.

You look at him stopping all your movements debating what to do. “Look, I don’t want to make this weird. Go take a shower, I’ll wait and then you can go home, okay? You don’t have to feel like escaping.” he says softly, but his eyes are nothing but serious.

As much as you want to leave, you kind of don’t. But the sound of shower and the thought of wiping the sweat and smell of sex sounds good. The whole bedroom reeks of sex.

“Okay.” you reply, picking up jeans from the floor.

“The first door on the right.” he tells you and with soft thank you you scurry into the bathroom.

His bathroom has a nice shower but also a bathtub on the opposite side. You quickly clean yourself thinking of how good Jimin’s touch felt. It’s too good and it’s all you can think about. You slowly shake your head thinking it’s from the adrenaline you feel right now. When you dress your clothes back on you slowly walk into the kitchen where Jimin is standing.

He turns around when he hears your footsteps. “Are you okay?” he asks you once his eyes find yours.

You nod despite feeling a big ache between your legs. He really fucked you roughly. “Do you want something to drink or eat?”

His behavior makes you a little bit surprised. He acts like nothing happened while you’re freaking out inside. “No, thanks. I should probably go.” you say awkwardly.

He escorts you to the front door where you quickly put your shoes and jacket on. When you are about to leave, his soft voice calling your name stops you. “Thank you.”

“For what? That’s what we all agreed on.” you laugh nervously. He simply nods, opening the door for you.

“I’ll see you.” he says with a little smile.

“Bye, Jimin.” you smile and quickly turn around to hide your red face.

When you hear the soft thud of a closed door, you exhale heavily.

Holy shit, you just slept with your best friend’s boyfriend. And it was fucking great.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jimin fic #personasintro

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chelseeebe · 7 months

Text

gasoline.

so this was supposed to be like a the bear au and then i just got carried away and now it’s just whatever the hell this is lmao it’s been sitting in my docs since july and i thought it finally needed to see the light of day :)

this is two parts in one bc i hate doing two seperate parts but it’s highlighted where p1 ends and p2 begins

wc: 12k+ oops

‎♡‧₊˚

Look, the sleazy, deteriorating walls of Frank’s had never been his idea of a dream. But flunking high school and a failed band had meant limited this is where he’d ended up. Running the line at the frankly failing restaurant was more like his idea of hell but it paid the bills and with a solid team of other degenerates, meant that it wasn’t all that bad.

Well, that was until the devil incarnate came along. And by devil incarnate he means you.

Eddie couldn’t grasp why someone of your stature would ever take a job at such a shitty restaurant, with your fancy knives and kitchen lingo that really meant nothing to him, why wouldn’t you look for something else? Something better?

You’d ended up here because… well, despite going to culinary school, getting the big job after you had graduated and doing everything by the book so to speak, you’d missed that burning passion that could only be found in the shittiest, dirtiest kitchens.

Well that, and the fact you’d been let go. But that wasn’t relevant.

“Honey, I’ve been here for years, I really don’t give a shit about anything you’ve gotta say,” flapping his arms around at your suggestion of maybe washing his hands when he got back in from smoking, “Helen never had a problem with it, so why do you?”

“First off, I have asked you not to call me honey or whatever other stupid pet name you wanna give me… it’s chef,” brows furrowed, the rest of the kitchen pretending not to listen to your latest bickering, “and secondly, Helen is gone, so whatever rules she implemented mean nothing now, okay? You wash your hands when you come back in or… or…” struggling to come up with a suitable punishment.

“Or.. or what?” he mocks, turning to his colleagues for a little backup, “you gonna fire me? ‘Cause I’d love to see you try,” refusing to back down.

It was the principle, you see. Eddie really would’ve had no issue with washing his hands if literally anyone other than you had asked. He was positively fuming that you had just flounced in here and started laying down a bunch of bullshit rules that no other soul had cared about in his five years working here. Not only that, you’d beaten him to the head chef role. He was certain that he was a shoe in the second Helen announced that she was moving on. Only to walk in one morning to your grinning face, your uniform crisply ironed and this certain energy only Eddie had seemed to sense.

You sigh, you never liked to be the first one to resign after an argument but Eddie was relentless and would’ve kept at it all day if you didn’t, “Just wash your hands.. chef,” it was entirely too busy to spend all day going back and forth with the man child.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he’s smirking now, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wanted you.

“Please,” you frown, hand firmly on your hip as you stare back at him. You felt pathetic begging for the tiniest bit of respect in your damn kitchen but it was simply the only way to get him to cooperate.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he goads, brushing against your shoulder as he makes his way to the sink, the rest of the kitchen is in complete silence, watching and waiting to see how this one would end.

You readjust your collar, pressing your lips together in a firm line, choosing to ignore his childish remark. There would come a day that he’d regret every horrid thing he’d said to you and maybe that day wasn’t today but it would come and you could not wait.

It’s another month of butting heads with the long-haired prick before things come totally to a head. His inability to just follow simple orders had you at wits end, because Eddie truly believed that he knew better. A suggestion to add thyme to the mash potatoes had caused all out war in the kitchen.

“No, we add rosemary… not fuckin’ thyme,” he spits, aggressively stiring the pot, his back to you, guarding his precious dish from your grabby hands.

“And I’m saying to add both- actually no, I’m not saying, I’m telling,” grabbing the container of thyme and attempting to sprinkle it into the pan, “move out of the way, that’s an order.”

“Oooo,” he mocks, knuckles turning white from his grip on the handle, “An order.. I’m so scared,” chuckling as he blocks you from reaching over his shoulder, “why d’you think you know better, huh? You don’t know shit about this restaurant, we’ve done it my way for years and that’s not gonna change now.”

“Because I’m the fucking chef and I know better than you,” finally snapping at the man, slamming the container down onto the stainless steel countertop, “move. now,” you bark, widening your eyes as he twists around to meet yours, you could feel the disgust radiating from his glare.

“No.”

You huff, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fucking ponytail around your hand and slam his head into the worktop, “Step out chef,” a simple order that you thought was far more gracious than he deserved.

His mouth falls open, still gripping onto the now-overworked potatoes, “What the fuck?” frantically flailing for some comradery from his fellow workers, it seemed that they’d all fallen into place, no longer the bunch of grimy assholes he once knew.

“Step out,” you persist, teeth gritted as you stand strong on your order, tilting your chin to meet his harrowing gaze. Eddie didn’t frighten you per say, but he was intimidating and if it came down to it, you probably weren’t going to be the one to win that fight.

“Fuck this,” he exclaims, slamming the pan down onto the stove top with a loud bang before storming off out of the fire escape door, not before grabbing his cigarettes from the shelf you’d repeatedly told him not to keep them on.

There’s now mash potato all over the hob that would probably need some extensive scrubbing and would ensure that your kitchen would absolutely reek of the stuff all night. If you could have it your way, you’d have made him scrub the entire oven with a dang toothbrush until you could see your face in the metal.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cheeks burn as the rest of the kitchen watches on in utter amazement, even the old, hardened chefs had taken to your ways even if it had taken a little bit of pushing. There was no understanding as to why he couldn’t just listen, just shut up and get on with his job without trying to constantly argue and bite back. Maybe because you were a woman? You were younger than him? Or maybe it was simply because someone was finally up to the job of challenging him and he hated that fact.

Whatever it was, it was getting on your last nerve.

Eddie wasn’t by any means a bad chef, he was innovative and knew how to make shit taste good, he was just incapable of accepting that maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the only way.

You smooth your clammy palms down your apron, nodding at Tina. A subtle way of telling her to carry on and take charge while you dealt with the pathetic man outside.

The door slams as you step outside, looking around the dark alley for the man, following the trail of smoke to his slouched position around the corner. Now, this was the difficult part, you weren’t really looking to fire him but what choice did you have if he couldn’t just accept that you were his boss now.

“Have you calmed down?” breaking the silence, fingernails pressed into your palm leaving tiny crescent moon indentations.

You never were one for confrontation.

He scoffs, refusing to look in your direction as he puffs on the cigarette, “I’m calm.. are you calm?”

Even now, he couldn’t just smile and nod, always had to say something else, “I’m calm,” swallowing the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, “do you want to work here?”

“Nobody wants to work here, shit- even you don’t wanna be here,” chuckling to himself, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yes I do. Do you? Because I can help you if you don’t, trust me I am not scared to just let you go.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, tossing the cigarette to the ground before finally meeting your gaze, “you’re firing me?”

“No,” relaxing your shoulders, “but I need to know that you want to work here. That you aren’t going to keep arguing with me about stupid shit because I truly do not have the energy for it anymore,” watching as his expression falls, at a stretch you’d say he looks remorseful but that could very well just be the moonlight reflecting on his face, granting him more grace than he deserved.

The alley falls into silence, the only sounds being that of the bustling city around you and Tina’s faint voice barking instructions inside the kitchen.

His eyes avert to the concrete, with a pained expression he breaks the silence, “I do… wanna work here,” it’s like that tiny sentence caused him physical pain to get out.

“Good,” you nod, his words may mean nothing but it’s a relief to finally hear that he gives somewhat of a shit about this place running smoothly, “Eddie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good chef… but even the best chefs have to take orders sometimes and you are no exception to that.”

Eddie untenses his jaw for what must be the first time in ten years, that tiny bit of affirmation was exactly what he was looking for, “...thank you,” he turns his head towards yours, “I think you’re… you’re an okay chef,” the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he pushes himself from the rough brick.

Your eyes roll instinctively but you’re not mad, for once, “get back inside,” waving him off towards the door without turning to look at him.

Taking the moment to gather yourself and your thoughts. Who knew if Eddie had meant what he said or if it was even going to change anything but it had definitely meant something. It wasn’t a burning desire of yours to come in and be the new evil boss in fact, it was the very opposite of what you’d pictured. There just wasn’t much lee-way when you were given a team of stubborn assholes that had gotten far too used to slacking off.

Frank’s could really become something if everyone wanted it and were willing to put in the effort required to get there. Sure, you probably weren’t going to earn a Michelin star but you were sure you could make it worthy of something.

Eddie had mostly kept to his word. Finally washing his hands and keeping his hair out of his face, even if you had had to nag at him a little. There wasn’t as much kick back as before. Sure, he’d roll his eyes and huff and puff but he’d actually do it.

It’s another Saturday night, you’re not so busy but enough to keep you on your toes. Just longing for the moment you collapsed into your bed and didn’t have to think about this place until Monday morning.

Eddie sidles up to where you’re working, going over the rota for the next two weeks. Weighing up if waking up at the ass crack of dawn was actually worth all this.

“So I was thinking..”

“Uh oh,” you add, snapping the book shut before turning to him, he’s hopeful. Well, that or he’s about to say the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah great thanks.. so I was thinking, it’s getting warmer, right? I think we should put sandwiches on the menu, and not just boring old sandwiches.. like, like good ones,” his vocabulary is limited but you get what he means.

You ponder for a moment, staring into his wide, optimistic eyes. It was a good idea to be fair to him, you just weren’t sure if you had the time to conjure up a whole new sandwich menu on top of everything else on your plate.

“Okay, I actually think that’s a great idea,” you two were civil, not exactly the best buds but you think maybe now you could trust him. “If you can come up with some ideas and make them for me.. I’ll think about it.”

His grin is infectious as it spreads across his face, “I got you… what are you thinking? Something with chicken or..” fishing for ideas.

You throw your hands up, a shadow of a smile on your lips, “that is entirely up to you, okay?”

He nods knowingly, slowly backing away, eager to get started on his first individual project since your arrival.

“I’m trusting you with this!” you holler after him, getting back to the mess of a rota in front of you.

“Yes boss,” he calls back from somewhere in the kitchen, “I mean chef,” catching himself.

Your heart warms a little. Maybe your lectures hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all?

No matter how hard you stare at the screen, willing for something to magically appear, it doesn’t. The line marker blinking at you, taunting you, pleading with you to just write something. Anything!

There’s a quiet wrapping of knuckles against the door causing your head to fly up, finding a surprisingly clean Eddie standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” spinning your chair slightly, “shit, sorry I forgot to say you’re good to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” flashing him a tight lipped smile.

“Oh no… most of ‘em have already gone,” vaguely motioning to the now empty kitchen, “uh… a few of us were gonna grab a drink and wondered if you’d wanna join us?” He resembles a shy child, fingers tapping along the battered door frame.

“Oh!” you must’ve sounded shocked as his eyebrows travel up his forehead in surprise, getting invited out by your crew had just.. never really happened before, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t tonight,” pointing at the blank word document, “the menu is due next week and I uh- I have nothing but you guys have fun,” shooing him off.

It was a Thursday night and you couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up tomorrow with a blinding hangover.

“You need help with that menu shit? I mean, my sandwiches are a hit so.. maybe I could help?” placing his jacket on the old cabinet in the corner, prepared to help no matter what you replied.

You’re not exactly in the position to say no to help at this point..

“I mean.. yeah, if you can think of six amazing, brilliant, showstopping new dishes then be my guest because I sure as shit can’t,” unintentionally coming off a little rude.

It’s just frustrating, the first big step you were taking for this restaurant and you were still somehow managing to fuck it up

“Okay, what’ve you got?” he peers over your shoulder at the blank screen, “ah, right,” he sucks his teeth, “not great.”

“No.. no it’s not,” slouching down the chair, “I’m completely fucked,” pushing the loose strands of hair from your forehead.

“You’re not completely fucked- not yet,” dragging the spare chair around to the other side of the desk, “I’m sure we can think of something tonight,” pulling the laptop closer to him.

You smile at him, grateful for his positivity even if it was fake.

The pair of you throw some shoddy ideas back and forth for a half hour. None of them good enough to make it to the word document, instead getting scribbled onto a ripped out page from your notebook.

“I am fucked, aren’t I?” you frown, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

He chuckles softly, “nah.. there’s some good stuff here,” running his finger down the messy list.

You feel completely vulnerable with him here, it might have been the lack of sleep or just the fact that you appreciated his presence so much but you foolishly begin to let your thoughts wander.

“I just feel like I’m fuu-,” immediately regretting opening your mouth, “no, you know what? Doesn’t matter,” you look at the clock on the wall signalling that it had gone well past midnight, “you should get going, it’s late,” pretending to scroll on the still-bare document.

“No, what were you gonna say?”

You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your foot against the leg of the chair, “I said it doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does,” he pushes, egging you on.

You take a sharp intake of breath to signal that you weren’t willing to go any further with this. Why couldn’t he just fucking drop it?

“Oh my God, you started this conversation and now you don’t wanna finish it,” frustrated that it had seemed like you were finally beginning to seem like you were somewhat human, he grabs his discarded jacket, rolling his eyes as he starts to exit the office.

“I’m scared I’m not doing a good job… you all obviously care about this place and I’ve just come in here and ruined it,” biting down onto your bottom lip, “and as much as you all pretend to like me, I know you don’t and- and that’s fine,” you shrug, exasperated with the weight of a thousand bricks hanging onto your shoulders, “I don’t care about being liked, I just want this restaurant to work but it feels like I can’t even do that,” slumping forward, confounded and slightly in shock that the first person you’d spilled all of this to was fucking Eddie.

“I do like you,” he says quietly, stopping in his tracks, throwing his jacket back down, “everyone does… you’re making this restaurant better,” rejoining you at the desk, “we’re all just stubborn and mean so no one’s told you but you’re doing good,” a reassuring smile overcoming his lips, his hand wavers, unsure of whether to reach out to touch your shoulder or if that was a step too far.

He flops back into the chair and you offer him a genuine smile for his words. It was really all you could muster without starting to cry. Coming into an already established restaurant with new ideas and ways of working was never easy but to be met with such pushback from him had made it even harder. So to now have him say in front of you, telling you that what you’re doing is right, well it meant the world.

“Thank you,” you mouth, blinking earnestly as you flip the laptop lid shut, it was too late and you were far too tired to even try to continue. “That really means a lot from you,” attempting to turn your vulnerability into a joke.

“I mean it, though,”scooting closer on the chair, “I just enjoy arguing with you too much to admit it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, that much was true, he definitely enjoyed getting under your hair and pissing you off as much as he could.

“We should go, it’s super late and I’ve got all day tomorrow to do this,” sliding the pen into the pot, feeling his eyes still boring into the side of your face.

You stand from your seat, expecting him to follow but he stays firmly planted in his chair. Hand reaching out to grab your wrist as you grab your bag. Jolting away as you’re not expecting the sudden contact.

He swallows, standing up before deciding whether to just fuck it or if this was about to get him fired. You’re blissfully unaware that this internal battle was even happening until his hand is on your cheek, tilting your chin upwards before closing the distance between your bodies, smashing his lips to yours.

Oh shit.

It takes a second for your brain to process what was happening but you don’t.. dislike it. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, sliding his tongue into your parted mouth with a quickness.

Leaning into the kiss, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on his shoulders. You’re taken aback by how easy it feels, moving together just right. The small of your back crashes into the rigid desk, pulling you out of the kiss and back into reality. Staring back at his darkened eyes with a slight bemused expression.

“No.. not here,” squeezing his shoulder. His hand paused on your shirt button, getting ahead of himself. Maybe you had found yourself wanting to fuck Eddie but not here. You weren’t that stupid.

His hand falls, swinging to his side, “oh.. you didn’t- did I fuck up?” still mere inches from your face, so close in fact, you could feel his breath on your flushed cheek.

“No.. no, I just..” deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, “do you wanna go back to my apartment? It’s not far,” blinded by the haze of lust that was filling the small room to the brim.

His eyes grow wide, realising exactly what you meant, buzzing with impatience and excitement. “Yes.. yeah I’d love to,” his plump lips still wet with the remnants of your mouth.

You nod, letting go of his shoulder to gather your things, and yourself, before pulling him out of the restaurant. Eddie is more than willing to leave his van in the parking lot, jumping into your car with an primal eagerness.

The car journey is quiet and you wonder if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. What would everyone at work say? Maybe they didn’t have to know? This could be a one time thing and you’ll both just never mention it again. Well, you hope anyway.

You think your head might just burst the second he walks into your apartment, somewhere you had never expected Eddie to ever appear.

You’re quick to continue the abandoned kiss, not giving him any opportunity to make wise cracks about your apartment. It somehow felt easier if it was just mindless sex where you didn’t speak.

Guiding him towards your bedroom because the couch felt just a tad too casual. His hands are everywhere, sneaking underneath your blouse and then back down into the waistband of your pants. You shove him backwards onto your bed, clambering on top quickly so as to not give him a chance to start speaking or to do anything stupid.

Eddie’s obviously not keen on giving you the higher ground, gripping onto your waist and flipping the both of you so that he led on top. He’s got this devilish grin on his face that is so smug, you just want to slap it off of him. You chase the taste of his mouth with yours, becoming accustomed to the mixture of cigarettes and mint. God, you hope this doesn’t become a regular thing.

He pulls away from you to gawp down the space between your bodies, mouth hung open, gasping for breath while his fingers skillfully unbutton your pants, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, “woah… when the hell d’you get that?” staring at the black ink covering your thigh, a rose curling around the length of your flesh.

A dumb decision you’d made the first week of culinary school. You felt out of place alongside the other chefs who were absolutely covered in tattoos and felt the need to join them. Except, you hadn’t exactly thought about it and just went along with the first thing the dodgy artist had suggested. He’d also quite purposely left out just how much such a large piece would fucking hurt, especially for a first tattoo.

You join him in looking down at it, curling your lips in disgust, “when I was like… eighteen, it’s ugly and I hate it so thank you,” continuing your task of getting his jacket off, ignoring the fact that he was still ogling the inking and slightly starting to regret your decision to bring him here.

“It’s fucking sick, what are you talking about?” he’s smirking, running his fingers along the thick lining as your pants hang around your knees, “I thought you were like… boring,” finding the hem of your lacy underwear and tugging on it.

Your lips hover above his, eyes hooded as you glare at him, “can you just shut up before I regret everything and make you leave?”

He nods instantaneously, connecting your lips with a quickness, shaking his jacket off of his arm and onto the floor with a thud. Repositioning his knees to either side of your thighs, you’d done a good job of getting your shirt half-off, his fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons as you break from his lips, leaving wet kisses along his stubbly jawline.

“Holy fuck, you’re joking?” his eyes just about popping out of his head as your pierced nipples spill out of your bra. Another spontaneous teenage decision you hadn’t got round to getting rid of yet.

His hand is immediately drawn to your exposed breast, full of pure glee, “you’re a dark horse, you know that right?” thumb running over the erect nipple as you fumble with his tattered old belt.

Your mouth opens to protest his ogling but is quickly replaced with a soft gasp, his thumb working miracles on the sensitive bud. Head falling back against the pillow when his lips replace his thumb, licking and sucking on your nipple with a wicked grin.

“Shit,” you moan, his growing erection rutting against your core, “can you- please hurry up,” it sounds strangled coming from your throat, embarrassed that you’ve completely melted into a pile of putty beneath him. If you’d have known that his mouth could be put to such good use, maybe you’d have tried this earlier.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, leaving one last kitten lick to your chest before rushing to get his pants down. Kicking them off to the side somewhere, the clunk of his belt buckle hitting your bed frame on the way down.

“Oh baby, that all for me?” remarking on your absolutely sodden underwear, hurriedly pulling them down your thighs, before using the same hand to position himself at your dripping entrance.

You’re too desperate to think of anything smart to say back, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d probably just start begging.

His face mere inches from yours as he pushes himself inside, a groan from somewhere deep in his chest falls out, “Jesus Christ,” he stutters, willing himself not to cum right now. Sex is always better with someone you detested. Now why is that?

Your arms loosely knot around his neck, intertwining your fingers with his hair, trying your utmost to hold eye contact as his hips begin to move. Slow at first, reaching the hilt before pulling back and sliding in, it’s excruciatingly slow and your legs tighten around his waist, begging for more.

“Faster.. please Eddie,” whining as his pace quickens, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah yeah.. yeah, say my name,” he blabbers, one hand sliding between your, thumb tapping against your swollen clit before rubbing tiny circles to the sensitive surface.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling incredibly full as his tip nudges against that soft, spongy spot. Your eyes squeeze shut, illuminated with an illustration of stars and white hot light. Your heart wasn’t eager to just adhere to his demands like that but shit, when he sounded this desperate, you couldn’t help it.

Chanting his name like an oath in time with his thrusts. The filthy sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanying the strained groans coming from his throat. It was far too late and your neighbours could surely hear every single thing.

“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his hips stutter, “you gonna cum for me? Huh?” dropping his forehead to rest against yours.

Your thighs squeeze around his torso at the words, feeling yourself grow closer to your impending orgasm. His thumb still expertly rubbing your clit, slow but deep thrusts as he nears his own end. Your brain too hazy to think coherently about anything as you tighten around him, overcome with the blinding pleasure of your orgasm.

“Yesyesyes,” you garble, trembling as you come undone completely, back arching from the mattress which brings your bodies impossibly close. Tugging gently on his curls as a means of encouragement, not that he needed it.

“Ohhh fuck yeah.. shit,” unable to stop himself in time, spurting thick ropes of cum inside of you. You’re too fucked out to truly think about the implications yet, still gasping for air as he pumps his cock a few measly times before pulling out and sitting up on his knees.

His wild hair stuck to his moist forehead as he looms above, trying to catch his own breath between your knees. “I’m so sorry.. you’re not.. you can’t get pregnant, can you?” one hand coming to rest on your thigh.

Your eyes roll on their own, accelerating back to Earth at an insane pace, “no,” reshuffling so you laid comfortably on the pillow, “but you can’t do that again,” glaring up at him without any realisation as to what you just said.

“Again?” his brows raise, still poised between your legs, “there’s a next time?”

You huff, turning on your side, away from Eddie and his stupid doe eyes and that ridiculous smirk. Reaching down to grab a shirt from your bedside table while he chuckles to himself.

Ashamedly, your heart skips a beat when he slides in behind you, pressing his body into yours. You were losing it, and embarrassingly quickly too. Ah fuck.

A hand snaking around your waist pulls you from your sleep and for a brief moment you start to think someone had broken in and decided to crawl into bed with you. Until said hand creeps down to your hip and those lips you’d hung off last night press a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” you grumble, placing your hand atop of his to stop it creeping into the waistband of your shorts.

“Ah c’mon..” frowning against your back, “best way to start a long day.”

“I have to get ready for work, so do you actually,” keeping your head firmly on the pillow, there were no real intentions of getting up. Not yet.

“Hmm.. five minutes,” hand descending even with yours on top, his smirk evident, dripping through his words. You shudder as his hand reaches your cunt, leaning backwards into his chest, ever so slightly parting your legs.

“Five minutes,” you agree, fully acknowledging that you were slipping into dangerous territory here.

“Did you fuck Helen too?” you ask, not really wanting to know the answer but just having to know if you were right in your stereotyping.

Every kitchen had one. The one that seemed to make their way around everyone eventually. You were sure Eddie was that one and you were the last on his hit list.

“What? Helen was like fifty dude,” messing with the volume dial on the radio.

“So? Did you?”

He’s silent for a second, throwing his hands into the air, “it was one time,” raging that you’d caught him out on such a baseless accusation.

“I knew it,” nodding smugly to yourself, he most definitely has the aura of the kitchen bike and that was for sure.

“Yeah but… you’re like actually hot and I know what you’re thinking but no, I am not a slut… it was once and we were drunk and that was it, so you can shut up,” deciding to turn the stereo off, not a fan of your choice of Taylor Swift records.

“I’m like… actually hot?” mimicking his tone.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, of course that’d be the only part of the sentence you picked up on, “hon, you don’t notice me pop a boner everytime we argue?”

Your face screws up, unsure of whether to take it as a compliment or if you should be speaking to HR, “wasn’t generally looking in that direction if I’m honest,” swinging round into the car park, just past Eddie’s abandoned van, “thanks though… I think,” smiling at him as you gather your things.

“It was a compliment, by the way,” stepping out of your car, tapping the doors of his rusty old van before walking inside, going on and on about Peggy (his van) and how important she was to him.

You’re not entirely paying attention as you walk into the kitchen, startled by the presence of somebody already clattering about in there. Eddie follows closely behind, just as confused as you that anybody sane would be here this early.

“Hello?” you call out, rounding the corner to spot Marcus who had taken it upon himself to come in early to start prep, making a monumental mess of the counter.

“Oh yeah, hey… I wanted to start now ‘cause I need to leave early- you two came in together?” perplexed by the sight of Eddie peering over your shoulder, the batter covered wooden spoon pointed at the pair of you.

“Right… er- his van broke down last night and I said I’d give him a ride,” nodding at your obviously fabricated story, looking to Eddie for some back up.

He nods along happily, “I’m gonna take a look at ‘er later, fingers crossed or you’ll be givin’ me rides all week,” slinking away into the locker room with a sly smirk on his face, thankfully hidden by the shoddy wall as he winks.

“God forbid,” you quip back, scrunching up your nose as you leave the two of them and make your way to the office, throwing your bag onto the cluttered desk and collapsing onto the desk chair.

You had to get this damn menu done by Friday or you were completely, utterly fucked. Already three days behind on the schedule, you’d be lucky if you even made it home tonight. Flinging the discarded laptop lid open to be met with the very much blank menu once again. An email pings through that makes your heart jump. It must’ve gone unseen when you were otherwise occupied last night.

Hello,

I hope this email finds you well.

I just wanted to confirm that Joan will be in attendance on May 18th as per your invitation. She is looking forward to trying the new menu and will subsequently write a review expecting to be published on or around the 20th.

Thank you,

Imogen Smart, The Indianapolis Star

Oh shit oh fuck oh balls.

It had slipped your mind that you’d even invited her along to try the new menu. What a colossal mistake this would turn out to be.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You’re slouched over the desk, head in your hands when Eddie creeps through the open door, startling you when he speaks, “you good?” making his way to the desk, leering down to look at the screen as if it was any of his business.

“I really do not have time for you right now,” smoothing out your new-found forehead wrinkles. You never had time for his bullshit but you certainly did not have time for them now.

“Eh, what the fuck? I was inside of you like three hours ago and now you’re being weird again?”

“Shhh- shut up,” you whisper-shout, the chair rolling back as you stand rather ferociously, staring at the gap in the door and just praying that Marcus was too busy doing whatever the fuck he was doing to hear.

“Jesus… chill out,” his hands are on your shoulders, soothing your nerves irregardless of how much you cared to admit it.

You blink at him, cheeks burning, “I just- I have so much to do today, this critic is coming and I still haven’t finished the men-”

Your sentence is rudely interrupted with his soft lips pressing against yours, caressing your cheek with his rough hand. It’s automatic, but you’re leaning into it, finding yourself gripping onto his bicep as he nudges you back towards the desk. It’s probably a good thing that your tailbone smacks into the sharp edge, pushing him from you as you come back to planet Earth.

“Stop.. stop,” gently squeezing his arm, the other consoling your throbbing spine, “I need you out there today, okay? You’re gonna have to take charge, get shit done and do not bother me unless that kitchen is on fire or you’ve cut your arm off, okay?” lowering your head to meet his eyeline.

“My arm? That’s a bit extreme,” deciding to turn your high stress situation into a joke.

“Yes your arm, finger you can deal with, capiche?”

“Yes ma’am,” hand lingering on the small of your back, “you sure you’re good?”

You exhale slowly and perhaps a tad too harshly snap, “yes.. I’m okay, now unless you have a brand new menu for me.. get out,” sweetening the blow with a sickly smile, motioning for him to leave.

“Okay okay..” he begins walking to the door, “I’m in charge, right?” ever the opportunist.

“Yes, but do not make me regret it,” flashing him a warning look.

“Sweet,” winking at you as he slips out of the door, rubbing his hands together like the little demon he is. You roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart thuds with affection.

Whatever was blossoming had the potential to fuck up every single good thing you’d done for this place, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to at least see how far you could go before total chaos.

- p2

You had meant for it to be casual. Like a few times a month sorta thing. And yet somehow you’re sat with your head on Eddie’s shoulder, half asleep as the gory horror film he’d picked plays on.

It had started that way, to be fair. After a stressful day or on a quick lunch break you’d catch him and pull him into the office. It’s no surprise really that it didn’t take long for the rest of the kitchen to catch on.

But back to right now, you’re only supposed to be resting your eyes as you lean into his shoulder. He smelt like kitchen, cigarettes and the new cologne you’d bought for him as his old one was quite frankly disgusting and had irritated your nose. He jolts upright when the screen flashes, knocking you from his shoulder and rudely pulling you out of your slumber.

“You’re a prick,” you mumble, glowering in his direction before opting for the opposite side of the sofa, the side that wasn’t rude.

He snorts but quickly realises that you are very serious and very much not happy, “I’m sorry.. come sleep on me again,” pleading with you, “or d’you wanna go to bed?” clicking the pause button on the remote.

“I wanted to go to bed an hour ago,” grumbling into the cushion as he’d ignored your request and swore that you’d just love this new movie. You didn’t. It was fucking boring.

“Okay okay, let’s go to bed,” he shuts the television off before standing from the couch, towering over your curled up body, “I’m not fuckin’ carrying you,” already wise to your tricks.

You groan something incoherently, something deeply offensive to his entire bloodline, before pulling yourself from the couch. “You know, if we’d gone to bed when I’d asked, I would’ve let you put it in my ass,” shrugging innocently before leading the way to your bedroom.

“Wait what? You didn’t say- I didn’t know that was an option!” speed-walking to catch up with you, incredibly eager to figure out if this offer was still on the table.

It was not.

“Yup, shame really.. you should probably listen to me more,” clambering into the unmade bed with the tiniest smirk on your face.

He’s not far behind, leaping into your bed, “we can still do that though, right? It’s only..” glancing at your alarm clock, “..two” he doesn’t even sound sure of himself.

“Nope,” pulling the blanket over your shoulders, purposely choosing to face the other way, “you missed your chance buddy.”

Whoever had done the ordering (you) had royally fucked up and left tomatoes off of the list. So as a consequence of your stupidity, you were now in Bradley’s trying to balance ten packets of stupid fucking tomatoes in your arms.

You’re not even looking where you're going, too focused on not dropping the damn horrid red things as you skulk through the store. It’s already too late when you bash the elbow of some innocent bystander, knocking multiple packets to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grumble, grabbing at the discarded fruits with your spare hand.

The kind gentleman had already started to try and balance them back in your arms. You look up to thank the stranger to be met with a face you hadn’t seen since high school.

“Steve Harrington? I- what the fuck?” you remark, clutching onto the produce so as to not cause another collapse.

“Holy shit, it’s you,” he’s utterly dumbfounded, staring back at your face in amazement.

You’re suddenly extremely aware of your dirty uniform and messy hair, eyeing his well pressed suit and just general put-togetherness. His hair still perfectly styled though just a bit shorter now.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you lived in Indiana anymore?” the last you’d heard of him, his father had sent him away to his office in New York, desperate for his son to have the life he never had.

“Ah.. well, I do now, bit of a long story,” chuckling awkwardly as he takes the majority of your tomatoes to the counter, lightening the load.

“Oh well, that’s cool..” you nod to the cashier who asks if you’d like a bag or multiple bags in your case, “I’d love to catch up but I’ve got a bit of a tomato crisis, uh..” digging in your pocket for the company card.

“Yeah definitely… here let me,” he grabs one of the jam packed bags under his arm, “I’m gonna assume these aren’t all for you?” leading the way to the parking lot.

“Oh no, I fucking hate tomatoes.. I messed up at work so it’s my job to fix it,” loading the bags into your dusty old car, “here, take my number and we can plan something.. it’s been so long,” grabbing for your phone in your apron.

“I uh- I actually have your number,” he nods, not bothering to get his own phone out.

“I’ve changed my number since high school, Steve.”

“No, yeah I know.. I got it from Robin, I was s’posed to call you when I got back..” rubbing his thumb along his forehead and into his hair, “I’ll give you a call later and we can do something,” smiling softly as he closes your back door.

“Oh, okay.. yes please call me, I- uh I really have to get back,” sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling with your keys, as you roll the window down to continue the conversation.

“I will, I hope your tomato crisis.. gets better,” shrugging awkwardly as you start the engine. Wincing at his choice of words.

“Me fucking too,” rolling your eyes as you pull off, not entirely registering what had just happened, focused on getting these stupid vegetables back to the restaurant.

It’s not until an unknown number flashes up on your screen that you think about it again. He’d left it until you were right in the middle of stuffing dinner down your throat to call of course.

“Hello?” you muffle into the phone, chewing on the lukewarm piece of chicken.

“Hey! It’s Steve.. you said to call so.. I called,” he sounds nervous, like he was calling a stranger and not you.

“Oh hey.. sorry I’m eating,” covering your mouth as you loudly swallow, “how are you?”

“Yeah I’m good, hope your crisis turned out okay,” laughing into the receiver.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.. thank you for your help, you saved me from squishing a ton of tomatoes.”

“Of course,” he clears his throat, “would you wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? I take it you’re busy with your.. tomatoes but I’m free pretty much whenever.”

“Yes.. yes erm-,” you set the phone onto loudspeaker and flit through the bookings for tomorrow, it wasn’t insanely busy and you were sure they would manage without you for an hour or so, “does ten sound good for you?”

“Ten is perfect,” you can hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you there then, enjoy your dinner,” still sounding as awkward as ever.

“Okay.. I’ll see you then, then,” making a mental note for tomorrow that you’d probably end up forgetting anyway.

You end the call, locking your phone and finally giving all your attention to the cold plate of food in front of you.

“Who was that?” Eddie appears out of nowhere, frowning as he walks into the office.

“Hmm? Oh, my friend Steve,” devouring the chicken without a second thought as to why he was even questioning it.

“Your friend? That you’re going for coffee with…?”

“Were you listening to my conversation?” blinking up at him.

“No.. I overheard you- don’t change the subject, you’re ditching work for a date?” he’s scowling, coming to perch on the desk.

“It’s not a date,” you warn, prodding the fork into his rib, “he’s a friend from school and we’re catching up while it’s quiet tomorrow, is that okay with you?” shaking your head, not that you were genuinely asking for his approval.

He narrows his eyes, “I suppose..” he takes the fork from your hand, helping himself to your dinner, “it’s just coffee?” asking tentatively as his greedy ass tucks in.

“Oh my God yes, it’s just coffee,” he was incredibly jealous for someone who was not your boyfriend.

“Okay okay.. sheesh, no need to get defensive.. date whoever you want,” shrugging as if he couldn’t care less.

“You’re the one getting jealous, not my fault you never ask me to go for coffee.”

“Because we spend every waking moment together anyway,” repetitively banging his heel into the desk, irritating you to no end. “But I’ll make sure to ask you to go for coffee from now on.. don’t want some loser taking my place.”

You huff, pulling the plate away from his greedy hands, “are you done?”

He shuffles backwards, still picking at your food despite your obvious attempts to get it away from him. “Okay okay.. I’m done.”

Eddie, in fact, does not drop it.

He’s still pouting when you climb into bed, sighing to himself like a pathetic old dog. Except now, he’d become desperate and slightly weird about it. Making all sorts of promises and hypothetical dates for you two to go on.

“Why don’t we go for coffee tomorrow? I’ll even pay,” walking his fingers along your side.

“Eddie please, can you stop? Who am I in bed with right now? Because it’s not Steve, I can tell you that,” exasperated by his incessant attempts to piss you off.

“Okay.. okayy,” retiring this tired bit for the night at long last, “you’re still taking me to work, right?” settling his hand on your waist, cuddling into your back.

“Yes, you bum,” switching the lamp off before setting your head on the pillow.

“I’m not a bum,” feeling him frown against your back, “it’s not my fault you refuse to get in my van.”

“It’s a death trap, I’d rather risk walking along the highway,” smiling into the darkness.

“Yeah whatever, good night,” he mumbles, pretending to be pissed off until you feel the tiniest, sweetest kiss to your shoulder.

You’re running late, as usual. Something about the bookings being fucked for tonight meaning you were either going to have a full restaurant or have absolutely no one show up.

It didn’t matter to you, not right now anyway because you’re jogging along the sidewalk to get to the dang café before Steve thinks you’ve abandoned him.

You’re huffing and puffing when you shove open the door, making a royal fool of yourself as anyone would believe you’ve just sprinted in a marathon to get here.

Steve jolts up the second he hears the door go, giving you a small wave from his table in the corner. It’s a relief that he hadn’t just up and left considering you were fifteen minutes late.

“I am so so sorry,” you say hurriedly, sliding into the other chair, “another crisis and obviously I’m the only one who’s capable of fixing things so..” you stop your rambling to look at him properly, “sorry- you don’t care, shit did you order?”

He chuckles nervously, “yeah.. I didn’t know what you wanted so I didn’t get you anything,” he stands up, “what d’ya get?”

“Uhh a cappuccino would be great.. thanks,” setting your bag down on the vacant chair beside you.

You chat about nothing and everything for a while until Steve turns the conversation back to high school. Now, you and Steve had a weird relationship during high school; hung around the same group, had a massive crush on the guy and was pretty certain that he at least liked you too. It had just never amounted to anything.

“I remember in school, you always used to cook shit for us.. it’s crazy that you’ve got your own restaurant now,” shaking his head in slight disbelief.

You’d bring tupperware full to the brim with whatever random shit you’d cooked up the night before. Forcing your friends to eat it and share their opinions no matter how harsh they could be.

“It’s not really my restaurant,” sipping the cappuccino he’d kindly bought, “I just run it and make sure it doesn’t burn down or go bankrupt,” laughing to yourself.

“So it’s technically yours..” fingers fiddling around with the empty sugar packet, “I’ll have to come by sometime, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

“I mean, I could probably get you in tomorrow.. if you wanted?”

“Well yeah, that sounds great,” smiling earnestly across the table.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later but you should definitely bring your wife, I’d love to meet her,” you vaguely remember seeing the extravagant wedding pictures on Facebook a few years back.

You hadn’t paid much attention as to who he’d married just recalled noticing the absolutely gargantuan manor house in the back and how stunning her dress was.

His smile fades and his mouth opens to speak but doesn’t manage to squeeze anything out. You get the feeling that that might have been the wrong thing to say. Immediately wanting to slide down your seat and hide under the table.

Steve takes it well though, laughing softly, “Ah.. not anymore but uh- thank you for bringing that back up,” playfully shaking his head.

“Oh no, oh my God.. I’m sorry,” grimacing because of your big fat mouth, “I thought I’d seen it on Facebook but maybe that wasn’t you.. oh fuck.”

“No.. it probably was me, we just- yeah not anymore,” wiggling his empty hand in your direction, only just now are you noticing the lack of a ring.

“I’m sorry,” smiling apologetically, “I’ve gotta ask though.. what happened?”

He sits back in his chair, preparing for the absolute novel of a story he was about to tell, “well, my dad moved me to New York, wanted me to learn how to be a man or whatever,” waving his arms about, “and I met the love of my life- I thought I met the love of my life.. we got married and it was great for a little while but she..” he inhales, recalling the still bitter memories, “..obviously didn’t feel the same way,” you’re sat eager eyed, waiting for the real gossip, “she was fucking her boss.. whole time.”

“Shittt…” baring your teeth in a pained expression, “that’s awful Steve, I’m so sorry,” gingerly patting his outstretched arm, “what a bitch.”

He nods along, “yeah she is,” his fingers drum a rhythm into the table, “that’s why I’m back here… I’m sick of New York.”

“God,” guilt rising into your chest for being the one to bring that back up, “at least you’re home now, right? Must be nice seeing everyone again,” your eyes flitting to your phone that had lit up for the umpteenth time.

eds:) : when r u coming back??

eds:) : helloooo?

eds:) : stop fucking ur boyfriend and come back 2 work

eds:) : i’m being serious now we need u

Steve follows your gaze to your phone screen, realising that you’d been sitting here for a while now and he’d just pulled you from your work to talk about his messy divorce. “Work?”

You look back at him, “yeah.. I’m gonna have to run, but I’ll get you a table for tomorrow,” pushing your chair back, grabbing for your bag, “bring whoever.. I’ll text you the details!” offering him a small smile as you rush out of the busy cafe not bothering to wait for his reply.

Eddie is just as irritating as expected when you get back, hanging off of your arm the second you walk in the door.

“So, you just had coffee? You were gone a long time, man,” an attempt to play off his jealousy, though it was hardly working.

“Don’t call me man, and yep, just coffee. Like I’ve said a hundred times before,” hanging up your bag and tying the apron around your waist.

“Right.. he wasn’t tryna do anything though, was he? ‘Cause I can tell him straight if you need me to,” hanging around your ankles like a lost puppy dog.

“He’s in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think you need to do anything, big boy,” gently patting his arm.

“Ohh so that’s why he’s back and trying to fuck you now.. I get his game.”

You turn to face him, sandwiched between his body and the rusty lockers, “will you just relax? Please,” running your hands down his chest.

Eddie frowns slightly, but nods, “he’s got nothin’ on me anyway..” a silhouette of a smirk forming on his face, “you know who’s givin’ it to ya good,” planting his lips on yours before you get the chance to express your utter disgust.

You’re smiling when he pulls back but push him away from you regardless, “do not ever say that shit to me again,” tightening the straps around your waist, walking away from the freak and into whatever hell awaits you in the kitchen.

It’s not very surprising that Steve comes in alone, your heart aches a little seeing him sat at the table on his own.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is watching your face with a foul scowl on his. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you announce that you’re going to see how he is, practically snarling at the thought.

He knows the dish in front of him is Steve’s order, he’d audibly criticised the fact that Steve had removed the mushrooms from his food, is he a fucking toddler or something?

His eyes dart around the room, pursing his lips as he prepares to maybe just let the glob of spit fall out of his mouth and accidentally into Steve’s childish dinner.

“Don’t,” Tina’s hand clamps over his mouth, stopping his despicable plans in motion.

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he protests, glowering at his co-worker. He definitely was going to do it and she knew it.

“Leave him alone,” flashing him that universally understood look that tells him not to even dare, “can you blame her, though? Meow,” grinning as her eyes flicker to you and Steve through the tiny window.

Eddie kisses the back of his teeth, whipping the dish towel at her, “ha ha very funny,” she’s desperate to rile him up as much as possible, taunting him with her mean quips.

His eyes slide to the window, met with the image of you absolutely cracking up at something Steve had said. It was the kinda laugh he loved to force out of you, usually late at night when you were overly tired and a little hazy. Unheard by most people. It was a slight comfort to know that Steve definitely wasn’t that funny, he could almost bank on it.

It’s like torture watching the pair of you interact for what feels like forever. Pulling his eyes away, deciding to go for a cigarette instead of putting himself through any more of that.

The air outside is still, it’s getting colder again but it seemed like Indiana was still hanging onto the dregs of summer; the sky illuminated with streaks of pink and orange. Maybe that’s what he was doing? Desperately clawing to keep your thing alive all the while you were trying to wriggle out of it.

He’s harshly pulled out of his self-pitying cloud, “Eddie?” you call out of the door, bounding over to where he was slouched against the brick wall, “thank you for doing that.. he said it’s great,” your toothy grin making an appearance.

Eddie grunts something in response, trying desperately not to think of you smiling at Steve like that.

“What? You okay? Why’re you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” he shrugs, lying through his teeth. He couldn’t help it, his heart twisting and contorting with every mention of that prick's name.

“Yes you are,” sighing softly, “you’re actually jealous? I thought you were just joking,” stepping toward him as he throws the cigarette to the floor.

His eyes eventually find yours, “I’m not.. jealous,” curling his finger into the bow of your apron strap, using it to pull you in, “I don’t get jealous,” another blatant lie.

“Mhm is that right?” you giggle, his behaviour over the past few days had proven that statement to be false. Wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek begins to rest on his chest.

Desperately trying to convince himself that this is a sign. That if you’d really wanted to, you’d be in there, doing this with Steve. But you’re not. You’re here. You’re clinging onto him and everything is fine.

The door handle at the front of the store rattles a couple times before whoever is behind it gives up and knocks, you all look at each other slightly confused before Eddie takes the plunge and goes to answer. You’re standing behind the counter with a guarded expression, not prepared for whatever crazy was trying to get in at stupid o’clock in the morning.

Steve is standing behind the open door with an apologetic smile, holding up a takeaway cup obviously bought for you. Eddie is less than thrilled, skulking back into the kitchen with the most horrendous scowl plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve text first,” kicking the door shut behind him, offering out the warm cup for you to take.

You breathe a sigh of relief, “yeah.. that would’ve been a good idea, thank you though,” gladly taking his offering.

“I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I didn’t catch you before I left so thought I’d stop by,” sipping on his own coffee, poised in the middle of the restaurant floor.

Eddie’s stood leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen from the front of house, arms crossed against his chest. Disapproving glare set solidly on Steve.

“Yeah absolutely, I’m glad you liked it,” smiling fondly at the man, sipping appreciatively on your cappuccino.

“I uh- I have a question for you,” his eyes flit to Eddie who was still stood with his eyes narrowed, scowling, “in private.. if that’s alright?”

You spin to look at Eddie, nodding towards the back, “I’ll meet you in my office in a minute,” shooing him off, “please.”

He snarls back at you, looking back over his shoulder to shoot daggers into Steve before eventually disappearing into the kitchen. For someone acting so jealous, you’d think you’d have been in a committed relationship for years.

Rolling your eyes as you trundle closer to Steve, “ignore him.”

“He a handful?”

“Mm and a mouthful sometimes,” perching on one of the tables, totally oblivious to your innuendo.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, blinking ferociously as you finally catch on.

“Oh no- I just meant he’s like.. rude,” stumbling over your words, cheeks beginning to burn.

“I know what you meant,” Steve assures, though he looked a little flustered himself.

Your eyes squeeze shut, “just continue,” rolling your hand, desperate for him to forget you’d opened your mouth.

He clears his throat, “so I was talking to my buddy.. he owns Garson’s in the city and he was saying there’s a spot opening for a sous,” glancing at you, “I just mentioned your name and I’ll give you his number but he said he’d love to meet you,” his mouth twitching into a smile.

Well, that was not at all what you were expecting.

In fact, it was a massive curveball ball that you’d not rehearsed a response to.

Garson’s was insane, they’d just earned their first star and everybody who was anybody was trying to get a reservation. It would be career defining to even stage there.

“Oh wow… Steve I actually don’t know how to reply to that,” placing your coffee onto the table in fear of dropping it on the floor.

“Well obviously think about it, I’ll text you his details later, he seemed pretty eager to get someone in so.. don’t take too long,” drumming his fingers onto the table.

“Yeah.. right, holy shit,” you remark, trying to take it all in. It’s unclear what to even say to him in this situation, thank you seemed too small but slathering his face in kisses was probably a step too far.

“I gotta go, let me know what you decide,” his smile honest and genuine as he grabs his coffee and heads to the door.

Just before he slips out, you jump back into action, “thank you!” beaming with pure unadulterated joy.

He nods, disappearing into the street as the door slams shut behind him.

You can barely contain yourself, practically skipping through the kitchen to go and find Eddie who you were absolutely certain was not going to share the same level of excitement you possessed.

“What’s got you so happy? He ask you out on a real date finally?” turning up his nose without you saying a word.

“Noo..” you chime in, still riding the high, kicking the door shut behind you, traipsing over to rest your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “so.. Steve said there’s a position going in Garson’s and it’s basically mine if I want it..” struggling to contain your grin.

His hands falter, brushing down your sides to now hang limp beside him, “what?” Unsure if what he had heard had been correct.

“There’s a job at Garson’s and it’s basically mine.. isn’t that great?” grabbing at the back of his neck. You were expecting a little more happiness than this, you can’t lie.

He looks almost offended. Features screwed up in pure confusion, as if you’d insulted his mother. “So you’re leaving? Some fancy job pops up from your fancy pants boyfriend and you’re suddenly abandoning us?”

“Wha- no? I’m not abandoning anybody,” removing your arms from his shoulder, “this is an opportunity to actually do something with my career, show everyone what I’m capable of,” you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just pretend to be happy for you.

He stands up, the chair making a god-awful noise behind him, “so you get to come in here, change everything and then jump ship as soon as something better comes along?” eyes that once looked at you with pure adoration now full of disgust.

You’re gobsmacked. Utterly speechless that he was acting like such a petulant jerk. You hadn’t seen this side of him since that night so many months ago in this very office.

“Eddie, what has got into you? This is good news! You didn’t expect me to stay here forever, did you?”

“I don’t know,” exasperated, “I just didn’t expect you to run to the next best thing so soon,” he looks venomous, mean.

“I’m not! He’s my friend and he’s helping me out.. why are you being like this?” he may as well have torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it in front of you.

Eddie scoffs, running a hand over his mouth, “your friend… who you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly has this great new job for you and has absolutely no ulterior motive? Ha, right.”

It finally clicks in your brain, he doesn’t really give a shit whether you stay or go. This was about hating Steve and being a jealous loser despite still not asking you to be his girlfriend.

“That’s what this is about? You think Steve.. what? That he wants to fuck me? You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

“It’s not about that,” raising his voice, chest puffed out. This was the Eddie you’d met and hated six months ago. You were sure you’d never have to deal with that prick again. “I don’t.. I don’t care what or who you do, I just think you’re a traitor and I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.”

Your face falls, blinking rapidly as the tears prick in your eyes. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat. He could be an evil prick when he wanted to be and before, it never would’ve upset you this much. But now it felt personal, like you’d let him in only for him to use everything you’d told him against you.

“Get out,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction at least, waiting until the door is slammed in your face to let them fall.

Humiliated and utterly pathetic as you flop into the chair, letting the tears fall free.

If he was trying to convince you to stay, then he’d failed. Majorly.

You’re hidden in the office for the remainder of the day. Courtesy of Eddie’s horrible words.

And he’s just a ray of sunshine in the kitchen. Clattering about as he drops pans, recklessly launching knives and utensils onto the counter.

Marcus has had enough of his tantrum, tapping on his shoulder, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” steering Eddie towards the back alley.

He slides down the brick wall, cigarette poised between his lips while Marcus mouths something to the rest of the beady eyed staff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asks, he’s genuine but stern. Has talked the boy down a multitude of times but this seemed different.

“She’s fucking leaving..” blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth, “some stuck up restaurant that dickhead Steve got her into.. that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Marcus’ mouth opens but doesn’t speak, deciding to get down to Eddie’s level, perching next to him on the floor, “and why’s that made you so angry? She break up with you as well or somethin’?” struggling to understand why he cares so much.

“No,” Eddie glowers at the floor, “you can’t break up if you’re not together. I’m just.. I’m pissed off, she came in here.. changed everything and now she gets to just move on like it’s nothing.”

Poor Marcus is trying to piece it all together in his head. Settling on the only sensible conclusion that maybe whatever was going on between you and him was perhaps a hell of a lot deeper than either of you were admitting.

“So.. you’re pissed that she made this shithole better? You sure that’s it?” questioning the validity of Eddie’s anger.

“What’re you tryna say?” Eddie snaps, gritting his teeth together. How dare Marcus not believe his incredibly flimsy words?

“That you’re not really angry ‘cause she’s moving on, you’re pissed because of this new guy and you think he’s.. he’s gonna take your spot or something? I can see right through you bro,” clapping his hand emphatically on Eddie’s shoulder, having caught him red handed.

Eddie glares at the man, snarling but unable to respond. Because he was right. Eddie is a pathetic, insecure loser who can’t bring himself to just admit to you that he was jealous of Steve. It was easier for him to just make you hate him than to be honest with you about how he felt, at least that way you didn’t have the opportunity to shut him down. You couldn’t reject him if you didn’t know.

“You’re gonna fuck this up forever if you keep acting like this,” Marcus sighs, getting up from the floor, “get in there and apologise or you’ll just push her right into his arms and I really don’t wanna deal with you if that happens,” flashing him a stern but well-meaning glare before disappearing back into the kitchen.

His eyes squeeze shut, and as much as he didn’t want to hear that, he knew he was right. Self-sabotage had always been his forte except this time he was truly terrified of the possibility of losing you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

There’s a quiet knock on your office door and you’re just about prepared to bite the head off of whoever dares to disturb you.

“Come in,” you bark, dropping the pen onto the desk in frustration.

A very meek Eddie peeks around the door, testing the waters to decide if it’s safe to fully come in without you throwing something at him.

Nothing collides with his head so he pushes the door open, holding onto a plate of pasta he’d made especially for you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, still deciding on the right words to say.

“You haven’t eaten all day..” he decides on, gingerly placing the plate in front of you on the desk, “you don’t have to eat it but don’t throw it away,” stepping back from the desk with extreme caution.

You’re taken aback, not at all expecting the kind gesture, blinking at the delicious food in front of you. “Can I have a fork..?”

“Shit yes I got one,” digging in his apron pocket for the utensil, laying it down next to the plate gently.

“Thank you,” you nod, poking your fork into the food. It is delicious and it was still warm which is an even better bonus.

He smiles slightly, “I wanted to say.. I’m sorry for being an asshole, you should..” trailing off into silence, swallowing the lump in his throat, “you should go for it, it’s a great opportunity,” reassuring himself even if he didn’t quite believe it.

You chew slowly, apprehensive about his sudden change in attitude. This surely hadn’t been a conclusion he’d reached on his own and you wonder just who in the kitchen had given him a pep talk before sending him in here. You appreciated it nonetheless. As weird and complicated as you guys were, you weren’t quite ready to give it up already.

“Really?” you look up, trying to gauge his reaction. It was evident that he was putting on a brave front and he still had some apprehensions about it all but for you he was willing to ignore them.

Your heart swells. Which makes you feel a little sick. In a good way though, well, you think so anyway.

“Yeah.. you’re a great chef and you deserve better than this shithole,” one side of his mouth twisting into a smile. The words are heavy and difficult to get out, but they’re true. He means it and would really do anything to ensure you were happy. Even if it did mean swallowing his pride and letting you follow that douchebag Steve.

You stand from your chair, rushing over to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you..” resting your chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

He was going to miss these little moments the most, he thinks. Shaking his head slightly when his mind flits to the thought of you in some other kitchen doing this with someone other than him.

“You want some food? Don’t wanna eat this whole thing myself,” pulling away from his grip, motioning back towards your desk.

“Thought you’d never ask,” masking the ache in his heart with a sloppy grin.

If his uncle had taught him anything, it was that you had to make sacrifices for the people you loved. Or thought you loved. Whatever.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to show his stupid little face again and it irks Eddie to know that you were probably texting with him this entire time. Getting excited about this new position with another man. Blergh. It was knocking him sick.

You look over Steve’s shoulder to give Eddie a small glance, smiling ever so tenderly as you disappear into your office. That should be enough confirmation that he truly had nothing to worry about. It was just a job. Oh God, what if you find someone else to bicker with? Look what had happened to you two.

That sicky feeling returns and he wants to bolt. But he doesn’t, he’s big and brave and instead chooses to focus on finely dicing some onions until you reemerge from your office. Whenever the fuck that would be.

It must be a whole half an hour before Steve walks through the kitchen, giving Eddie a sly pat on the back on the way out. Smug prick. He just grips the knife tighter, waiting for you to confirm that you’d be gone next week and that he should really start moving on before you left.

“Ed’s can I talk to you outside?” your voice snaps him out of his pity party, giving the rest of the crew what looked like a sympathetic smile, you’d tell all of them the bad news later.

He knew this was it. You were about to lay it all bare, tell him it’s okay, maybe we can still be friends? I hope you understand but I have to go and work at this fancy restaurant with my fancy high school boyfriend, sorry!

Reluctantly walking into the alley way, the alley way you’d shared many sneaky kisses, reassuring words and that one time you’d got carried away and almost gave him a hand job right then and there. It was painful, the once comforting aura of the brick walls had since vanished.

He’s already bracing for the worst, keeping his back to you as he walks further down the path. It’s the only way he could be sure that he wouldn’t end up begging on his knees for you to stay. And even then he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen.

“Will you look at me?” your voice echoing through his veins.

He does, turning on his heel excruciatingly slow. Bottom lip starting to sting as his teeth cut into the skin.

“When are you going?” solemn and miserable, honestly trying his hardest not to start pleading with you.

“Never,” shaking your head, “I’m staying here,” feeling incredibly smug. You looked it too, nose scrunched up as you grin at him.

Fuck. He’s not even sure if he’s heard that right. But the blood rushes back through his body and he almost crumbles, falling to his knees to thank whichever being up there had answered his prayers. The glum look he’d seemed to possess had vanished, grinning like a fucking maniac as he bounds over to you. One minute you’re on the floor and the next you’re being spun around, his arms almost crushing you.

“What? Why’d you change your mind? I- fuck I’m so happy,” setting you back on solid ground, much to your relief.

“Well, the thing is.. there’s this guy who works here, he’s a bit of an asshole but for some reason I really like him and he’s convinced me to stay,” fingers digging into his biceps, still afraid that you might become airborne at any moment.

There’s not time to catch your breath before he’s crashing his lips into yours with great force, sending you flying backwards against the wall. His hands grabbing at anything he could touch, travelling the length of your body to brace your cheeks. Keeping you steady, making sure this was actually real. Christ, he thinks he loves you.

Scrap that, he’s fucking certain that he loves you.

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